BOUND

The penthouse looked different in the mornings, so bright and vast that it made Aria feel smaller than ever.

She sat on the balcony with a blanket around her shoulders, half-drinking the tea Maria had brought but tasting none of it.

Below, the city buzzed on without her. Students hurried to early classes, workers spilled out of subway stations, and children tugged at their parents’ hands. Normal people. People who hadn’t sold their bodies to a man like Luca Cross.

She wondered if her mother was awake yet. If her father’s back still ached from the cold cell floor. If they would ever forgive her when they learned the truth.

She pulled the blanket tighter, fighting the sick twist in her stomach that had nothing to do with the baby. A single line from Luca’s late-night phone call drifted back like poison:

If she doesn’t learn to obey, she’ll learn to beg.

No. She wouldn’t beg him. She couldn’t.

Maria found her still staring at the skyline.

“Mr. Cross wants you to eat more today,” she said, setting down a covered tray. “And he asked me to remind you to rest.”

Aria’s throat went dry. “Remind me?”

Maria only shrugged. “He worries.”

But her eyes slid away, and Aria’s chest burned at the lie.

“He doesn’t worry,” she whispered. “He owns.”

That afternoon, Luca returned early, a rare thing. She heard his voice in the foyer, brisk and smooth, as he ordered some faceless assistant to bring in the boxes piled by the elevator.

When she stepped out, she found him at the marble counter, scrolling through a document. His tie was half-loosened, his sleeves rolled up like he might be human if you squinted.

“What’s this?” she asked, nodding at the boxes.

“Your things.”

“My… what?”

“From your dorm. It’s not safe for you to stay tied to that place. Everything you need is here.”

Her stomach lurched. Anger sliced through the numbness. “You went through my things? My dorm room?”

Luca finally looked up, eyes cool, unbothered. “Maria packed them. You won’t need anything else now.”

A brittle laugh broke from her lips. “So you’ve cut me off completely. No friends. No school. No life.”

His jaw tightened. “I’ll arrange a tutor if you want to keep up with classes.”

She slammed her hand on the counter. “I don’t want your charity, Luca! I want my life back.”

For a moment, he looked like he might break too—a flicker of something raw in his eyes before the steel shuttered it again.

“You made your choice,” he said, voice tight. “Now you live with it.”

That night, Aria curled on the edge of the massive bed she refused to share with him.

Her old textbooks sat stacked on the nightstand, but she couldn’t bring herself to open them. The pages were stained with memories of who she used to be a girl who dreamed of late-night study sessions, of graduation, of her parents smiling in the crowd.

She pressed a palm to her belly, willing herself to feel something warm for the life inside her. But all she felt was the crushing weight of what she had traded away.

In the hallway, Luca’s voice rose again—low, in that other language that slipped through the door like oil.

She caught only one word: Aria.

She buried her face in the pillow. She told herself she hated him—his gaze, his touch, his power over her. But deep down, beneath bruised pride and fear, a traitorous spark curled in her ribs every time he was near.

When he finally came to her room, she pretended to be asleep.

She felt his shadow lean over her, his breath soft at her ear.

“You don’t have to fight me, Aria,” he murmured, as if she were listening. “I’ll give you everything. All you have to do is stay.”

Her chest tightened at the words, a strange mix of fear and longing coiling within her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will away the heat that pooled in her belly, the way her fingers trembled despite herself. Yet no matter how fiercely she tried to resist, her body betrayed her.

She leaned just a fraction closer to him, drawn to the warmth, the steady pulse of his presence, the sense of safety and danger all wrapped into one.

He lingered, close enough that she could feel the faint brush of his breath against her hair, but not close enough to touch.

Every second stretched thick with unspoken promises and the weight of everything she hadn’t yet allowed herself to admit.

Finally, with the barest shift, he pulled back, leaving a ghost of warmth in the space between them.

Aria’s shoulders slumped, and the sudden emptiness pressed in around her, almost heavier than the thought of surrendering to him.

The soft click of the door behind him echoed through the room like a verdict, sealing her fate all over again.

She pressed a hand to her chest, her heart racing, and whispered to herself,

I don’t know how to resist him. I don’t know if I want to.

The silence that followed was deafening but it was a different silence than before.

Full of tension. Full of possibility. Full of the kind of longing that could either save her… or destroy her.

She sank into the chair, the ache of him lingering in every nerve, every thought.

And for the first time, Aria realized that fighting him wasn’t just impossible

It might be the very thing she no longer wanted to do.