Possession

The penthouse was quiet, almost too quiet.

I sat on the edge of the bed, hands trembling, trying to process the whirlwind of the day. The wedding, the vows, Adrian’s words—“You’re mine.”—replayed in my mind like a constant drumbeat. My pulse raced just remembering the way he had leaned close in the chapel, his voice low, his gaze sharp.

I told myself it was fear. Pride. Survival. My mother’s life. That’s all it was.

I was wrong.

The sound of the door opening made me jump.

Adrian stepped in, tall, sharp, predatory. His eyes immediately found mine, dark, unreadable, commanding. He didn’t smile. He didn’t even speak at first. He just watched me, and in that silence, I felt like a criminal caught in the act of thinking forbidden thoughts.

“You’re awake,” he said finally. Calm. Controlled. Dangerous.

“I… I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered, my voice smaller than I intended.

He walked closer, slow, deliberate. Each step echoed in the vast penthouse, making my heart hammer. I wanted to retreat, but the wall behind me blocked any escape.

“Good,” he said. “Because neither can I.”

My stomach twisted. The possessiveness in his tone… it wasn’t just words. It was a warning. A claim. A promise. And it made me shiver in ways I hated.

He stopped a mere foot away. Close enough for me to feel his heat, close enough for the faint scent of him—clean, sharp, intoxicating—to fill my senses.

“Victoria,” he murmured, low, almost a growl, “you will not be allowed to forget who you belong to.”

I swallowed, heart pounding. “I—”

“You’ll learn,” he interrupted, his gaze darkening. “I own your nights, your days… your life. And you will obey me, because I will make sure you survive this… intact.”

His words were harsh, controlling. But there was something in them… something that made my chest tighten in a way I hated. My pulse raced. My body betrayed me.

I wanted to step back. I wanted to argue. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Adrian’s hand reached out, not touching me—just hovering, claiming space, pressing the air around me like an invisible grip. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I whispered, barely audible, my voice trembling.

He smiled faintly. Not warmth. Not kindness. But possession. Approval. Dominance.

“Good,” he said. “Because the moment anyone tries to take you… I will make them regret it. You’re mine. All of you. And I don’t share.”

I felt a shiver run through me, equal parts fear and… something else. Desire. Confusion. Hatred tangled with fascination.

“Now,” he said, voice dropping an octave, closer, “come to the living room. There’s something you need to know… about the rules.”

I followed, heart racing, trying to ignore how my body reacted to his proximity.

He stopped at the door, turning to face me. The way he looked at me… it wasn’t admiration. It wasn’t love. It was claiming, calculating, dangerous.

“You will wear what I tell you to wear,” he said. “You will eat what I allow. You will not answer calls without permission. And at night…” He leaned closer, dangerously close, eyes dark, lips barely inches from mine. “…you will be in your room when I say. Because I will not tolerate mistakes.”

My breath hitched. My pulse raced. The air between us was thick, suffocating, almost electric. His presence was all-consuming, and I hated that my body responded.

“Do you understand?” he repeated, each word a strike, a warning, a command.

“Yes,” I whispered again, barely able to speak.

He straightened, his gaze softening just slightly—but not enough to forgive, not enough to make it gentle. “Good girl. You will learn quickly. And Victoria…” His tone dropped, darker, dangerous, filled with a possessive hunger that made my stomach twist painfully. “…you belong to me. Not because of love. Not because I asked. But because I want you. And I will make sure you know it, every single day.”

I swallowed hard, the words sinking like lead into my chest. He wanted me. Claimed me. Controlled me. And I could feel my body betraying me, betraying my mind, betraying everything I had sworn to keep intact.

He stepped back, leaving a charged silence, but the tension didn’t dissipate. It clung to me like a second skin, impossible to ignore. My knees shook. My hands tingled. My pulse was racing in a dangerous rhythm.

I hated him. I wanted to hate him. And yet…

I realized, with a shocking, terrifying clarity, that I was already falling into the trap he had set.

Not love. Not yet. But desire. Fear. Fascination. Confusion. All tangled together.

And Adrian Vale…

Adrian Vale was smiling faintly. Not because he had won. Not because he was gentle. But because he knew. Knew exactly the effect he had on me.

I sat on the edge of the sofa, trembling, heart hammering, utterly, completely, helpless under his possession.

And I knew one thing for certain:

I was trapped.

Completely.

Irrevocably.

And Adrian Vale would make damn sure I never forgot it.