Chapter 2

The sun hadn't even fully risen when the door to Brianna’s new bedroom creaked open. She scrambled to sit up, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest.

It was her mother. Eloise was already dressed in a sharp power suit, looking like she hadn't spent the night in a house full of monsters. She didn't look at the red rose or the small dagger sitting on Brianna’s nightstand.

"Why aren't you dressed?" Eloise asked, her voice cold. "Declan expects us at the breakfast table in ten minutes."

"Mom, someone pinned a knife to my door last night," Brianna whispered, her voice shaking. "And Eric... he cornered me in the hallway. He touched me. We have to leave."

Eloise finally looked at the dagger, but there was no fear in her eyes. Only irritation. She walked over and picked up the rose, tossing it into the trash can.

"Don't be dramatic, Brianna. You're twenty-three years old, not a child. Dawson is just testing you. He's the Alpha of this empire, and he's protective. As for Eric, he’s a billionaire and your stepfather’s closest ally. If he was being friendly, you should learn to be grateful."

"Friendly?" Brianna felt a hot tear track down her cheek. "He put his hands on me, Mom. I felt like I couldn't breathe."

"Then learn to hold your breath," Eloise snapped. "I spent twenty years scrubbing floors so you could have a life like this. I sold everything to get us here. Do not ruin this for me because you're too sensitive for the real world."

Eloise turned and walked out, leaving the door wide open.

Brianna felt a hollow ache in her chest that was far worse than the fear. She was completely alone. At twenty-three, she was supposed to be starting her life, but instead, she had been traded like a piece of livestock to settle her mother’s debts and ambitions.

She dressed in a simple, high-necked sweater and jeans, hoping to hide as much of herself as possible.

The breakfast room was filled with the smell of expensive coffee and tension. Declan was reading a digital newspaper, while Dawson sat at the far end of the long table, staring at a laptop. Raven was there too, looking perfectly polished sipping a green juice.

"Good morning, Brianna," Declan said without looking up. "Sleep well?"

Brianna looked at Dawson. He was wearing a black dress shirt, the top buttons undone. He looked up, his grey eyes settling on her with a cruel, knowing glint. He knew she hadn't slept. He had watched her get cornered by Eric and did nothing.

"She looks like she saw a ghost," Raven giggled, leaning toward Dawson. "Or maybe she just realized she doesn't fit in."

"Sit down and eat," Dawson said, his voice a low command.

Brianna sat as far from him as possible. A maid placed a plate of eggs in front of her, but the smell made her stomach turn.

"I asked you a question, Brianna," Declan said, his tone sharpening. "Did you sleep well?"

"I... there was a rose on my door," Brianna said, her voice small. "And a knife."

Declan paused, his eyes flickering toward his son. Dawson didn't blink.

"A gift from Dawson, no doubt," Declan said with a small, dry laugh. "He has a strange way of welcoming people to the pack. It’s a Van Doren tradition. Strength and beauty. Don't let it rattle you."

"It rattled her enough to cry to her mother," Dawson drawled. He shut his laptop and leaned back, his gaze raking over Brianna like she was a faulty piece of machinery. "She’s weak, Dad. She’s going to be a liability."

"She’s your sister now, Dawson," Declan said.

"Step-sister," Dawson corrected, the word sounding like a curse. "And only on paper. In this house, you earn your place. What do you bring to the table, Brianna? Besides a pretty face and a mother who knows how to climb?"

The insult hit like a physical blow. Brianna’s hands shook under the table.

"I have a degree in finance," Brianna said, trying to find some scrap of dignity. "I graduated top of my class."

Dawson laughed. It was a dark, humorless sound. "A degree from a state school? That’s adorable. I’ll have my assistant find some filing for you to do in the basement. 

"Dawson, be nice," Raven purred, though her eyes were mocking. "Maybe she can help me organize my shoe closet."

Brianna pushed her plate away. "I’m not hungry."

"You’ll stay until I’m finished," Dawson said. It wasn't a request. The sheer gravity of his voice pinned her to the chair.

She sat there in agonizing silence for twenty minutes, forced to watch him drink his coffee and discuss multi-billion dollar mergers with his father. She was a ghost at the table, a servant in a silk cage.

When they finally rose, Dawson caught her arm as she tried to bolt for the stairs. His grip was like iron, his fingers digging into her skin through the thick wool of her sweater.

"A word," he muttered.

He dragged her into a small coat room off the foyer and slammed the door. The space was tiny, forcing her back against a rack of heavy fur coats. Dawson loomed over her, his scent of cedar and cold rain filling the small space.

"Let go of me," she hissed.

"You told your mother about Eric," Dawson said, his face inches from hers. He looked furious. "Do you have any idea how much power that man holds over this family?"

"So you saw him touch me and your only concern is his power?" Brianna asked, her voice cracking. "You’re a monster, Dawson."

"I’m a realist," he snapped. He stepped even closer, his body heat radiating through her clothes. "If Eric wants something, he takes it. If you make a scene, my father will ruin your mother just to keep Eric happy. Is that what you want? To be back on the street with nothing?"

"I’d rather be on the street than in a room with him. Or you."

Dawson’s eyes darkened. He reached up, his hand tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck. It wasn't a caress. It was a claim.

"You don't get to choose anymore," he whispered. "You’re a Van Doren now. That means you belong to the pack. And in this pack, I decide who touches you and who doesn't."

"You don't own me," she gasped, her heart drumming a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

"Don't I?" He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "I bought your life the second my father signed those papers. I paid off your mother's gambling debts. I paid for your degree. Every breath you take in this house is mine."

He pulled back, his eyes searching hers with a terrifying intensity. For a second, the hatred in his gaze flickered, replaced by something scorching and hungry. He looked at her lips, and Brianna felt a traitorous jolt of electricity shoot down her spine.

He moved as if to kiss her, his grip on her hair tightening, but then he stopped. He shoved her away with a look of pure disgust, as if he couldn't believe he had even thought about it.

"Clean yourself up," he said, straightening his cuffs. "We’re going to the office. You’re going to start earning your keep."

He walked out, leaving her shaking among the coats.

Brianna spent the next hour in her room, trying to stop her hands from trembling. She was trapped. If she stayed, Eric would hunt her. If she fought, Dawson would crush her.

She walked to the window and looked out at the jagged cliffs. The drop was hundreds of feet down to the crashing waves. For a moment, it felt like the only way out.

A knock at the door startled her.

"Come in," she said, thinking it was the maid.

The door opened, and Eric walked in. He wasn't wearing his blazer this time. His shirt was open at the collar, and he held a glass of dark liquid. He didn't say anything. He just locked the door behind him and slid the key into his pocket.

"The house is empty, Brianna," Eric said, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm. "Everyone has left for the city. Just you and me."

Brianna backed away until her heels hit the edge of the balcony door. "Dawson said he was taking me to the office. He'll be back for me."

Eric smiled, and it was the most horrific thing she had ever seen. "Dawson left twenty minutes ago. He told me to make sure you got settled in."

He took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving hers. "Now, why don't we pick up where we left off in the hallway?"

Brianna reached behind her, her fingers fumbling for the handle of the balcony door. It was locked.

She was trapped in a room with a predator, and the only man who could stop him had intentionally left her behind to be broken.