CHAPTER 4: THE TERMS OF HIS POWER

“I hate suspense. I still want my answers," Rivera insisted. To her, satisfying her curiosity was more important than whatever consequences the answers she sought bore.

“But I live for suspense.” He stepped closer and reached out, his fingers catching a stray lock of her hair. It was a slow, deliberate gesture. Rivera wanted to flinch, and swat his hand away, but her body wouldn't obey.

She hated that this man, this cruel, arrogant stranger knew exactly what he was doing to her. His words were cruel but his touch was gentle, calculated and mesmerizing.

'He's bad for you,' a voice screamed in the back of her mind.

“Have you ever considered that maybe you’ve trusted my discretion too much?”

"Hmm," he hummed softly as his fingers slid from her hair to her cheeks.

“I could easily go out there and tell my side of this story. Imagine how bad that'd look for you. It makes me wonder if you're not really as thorough as you think you are," she pushed, even though her heart hammering against her ribs.

She didn't know where she found the courage to threaten a man like him, but if it's what would lead her to get her answers, then she didn't mind.

She needed to scare him into surrender, and she expected anger, but he didn't seem threatened. He seemed captivated. Slowly, he withdrew his hand, only to trail his knuckles down the line of her jaw with a light, maddening touch.

“You’re a daring darling, aren’t you?" he said instead. "I actually love that.”

Rivera didn't understand why a threat like this would amuse him. He obviously looked down on her.

“You think I wouldn’t do it?” Rivera frowned, her skin still buzzing where he’d touched her.

“No. I think you simply haven’t read the marriage contract you signed two years ago.”

“What marriage contract?”

“The one stating that as long as you're married to me, you are obligated to obey my directives, protect my secrets and uphold my reputation.” Her eyes widened. Reagan’s voice went cold, the playfulness vanishing. “If you breach that contract, you are required to repay every cent I’ve ever given your family, plus damages. Immediately.”

“What?” Rivera felt the blood drain from her face. She stumbled back, her heels clicking sharply against the stone.

That document was the paper she signed on her wedding day. She had thought it was just a marriage certificate. She wished she had listened when her gut screamed at her then to back out of this marriage.

With no means to pay back such an amount, she'd become nothing but a mere slave to this stranger.

“I’ve been a complete fool to expect decency from a man like you,” was her bitter response.

“A man like me?”

“Yes. A man who hands his wife to his best friend and expects that nothing will happen between them for two years.”

His expression darkened instantly.

“I guess your reputation is the only thing you care about. It makes me wonder what exactly you did to end up in prison,” Rivera added.

“What do you mean by 'expect nothing to happen between them'?” he demanded sharply. He stepped toward her again, but this time, there was no gentle touch.

She paused, then smiled. That smile unsettled him. Finally, it seemed she had found some sort of weakness to poke at.

“You can never be entirely sure, can you? What if I told you that while you were away, Luke and I were together in every way a husband and wife should be?”

Reagan stiffened. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it? You may not trust me, but do you trust him that much? Two years is a long time to live with a woman and keep your hands off her.”

“Of course, I trust Luke." Reagan knew that Luke would never betray him, but something wavered beneath his certainty.

She clicked her tongue mockingly. “You know, you’re more naive than you look.”

That did it. In one swift movement, Reagan grabbed her, pulling her against his chest. His grip was firm and possessive. She could feel the hard line of his body, the heat radiating off him, and the sheer, suppressed violence in his grip.

“What happened between you and Luke?”

Rivera struggled, but he was like a wall of granite. She realized fighting was useless, so she went still, meeting his stormy gaze with a coldness of her own. “What do you think? If you're so worried, go ask him.”

He released her. She straightened her dress and lifted her chin. She was ready to make her demands now.

“If you divorce me, you won’t have to worry about any of that. And I'd never tell a soul about your secret or that I was ever your wife. None of this will matter. I’ll go back to Arizona. You keep your secrets, I keep my freedom."

The suggestion stunned him. Women had always begged to stay, never to leave. She was different.

“I'll never divorce you. Divorce would damage my reputation.” His voice had a time of finality. Her heart sank. "And you won't be leaving this estate without my consent. You are my wife. Public sentiment matters. I cannot have you roaming freely.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “So I’m just property?”

“You will obey my terms. Unless you have a way of repaying me in a month's time.”

"A month! That's outrageous," she protested. She wouldn't be able to pay that amount of money back even if she put everything she had for sale and worked tirelessly for the rest of her life.

"That's what the contract says. You know, you don't strike me as a dull one. You should have read through that paper before you signed it. Even a child knows that much."

"Well, unlike manipulative men like you, I didn't expect a contract to be hidden in an innocent wedding certificate," she shot back.

"Fair point, but life's unfair Rivera. I hope you'll always remember that, because you'd need some real grit to get through it." He then summoned one of the live-in staff who was about Rivera's age.

“Isabel. You’ll be in charge of Mrs. Royce. Help her settle in. Take her shopping tomorrow. She won’t need her old belongings any longer.”

“I’m not your prisoner,” Rivera said with a shaky, defeated voice as Reagan turned to leave.

He paused, then, without looking back, said, “You are now.”

Rivera could see it now that Reagan is nothing like Luke. He's a cruel man with no empathy, and she was not doubtful that he would make her life a living hell.

Upstairs, Reagan restlessly paced his bedroom. He stopped by the window and looked down at her small figure below.

Was I too hard on her? How could she not remember me? After everything.

Then his thoughts drifted back to her words about Luke. Luke hadn’t called or come to see him. That wasn’t like him. It was suspicious.

Could something have really happened between them?