Chapter 1: The Proposal Trap

Chapter 1: The Proposal Trap

 

My knees buckle, but his arms catch me, steady and unyielding.

 

I taste whiskey, want, danger—the intoxicating mix of a man I both fear and crave.

When he pulls back, breath ragged and eyes wild, he asks:

“Still want to marry me?”

I swallow hard.

“Yes.”

His grin is devilish, certain.

“Then let’s give them a wedding they’ll never forget.”

Suddenly, a sharp beep shatters the fragile moment—coming from the guard’s earpiece.

His expression shifts—urgent, alarmed.

“What is it?” I demand, heart hammering.

“There’s been a breach… downstairs.”

A cold wave of dread crashes over me.

“What kind of breach?”

The lights flicker ominously.

Travis turns toward the windows—wide floor-to-ceiling panes that frame the city skyline.

Then—

A distant boom.

The entire penthouse trembles violently beneath our feet.

Glass explodes outward in a dazzling rain of shards.

The chandelier swings wildly, casting fractured light across the walls.

From the depths of shadow—

A voice.

Cold. Threatening. Familiar.

“You shouldn’t have done this, Kourtney.”

I spin, searching frantically.

But no one is there.

Only shadows.

Only the first fracture in what was supposed to be an unbreakable plan.

Only the beginning.

The shattered glass crunches beneath my heels as I race to the broken windows. The night air rushes in—cold and biting—carrying the distant echoes of sirens and shouting. My heart pounds like a war drum, torn between fear and the sudden surge of adrenaline.

Travis’s presence behind me is a steady anchor, though I can feel the tension radiating from him like heat off a flame. His jaw clenches tight, eyes narrowed as he surveys the destruction.

“We need to secure the perimeter,” he commands, voice low but sharp. “Are you hurt?”

I glance down at the torn sleeve of my gown—only a shallow scratch bleeding red—and shake my head. “I’m fine. What about you?”

He rolls up his sleeve to reveal a deep bruise blooming like a dark flower near his wrist. “Nothing serious. This is just the beginning.”

“Beginning of what?” The words escape before I can stop them, the dread settling heavy in my chest.

He turns to me, eyes locking onto mine with fierce intensity. “The Forger family doesn’t play by rules.”

His name is like a curse and a promise all at once.

A warning I wish I hadn’t ignored.

Suddenly, his phone buzzes—sharp and insistent. He pulls it out, face hardening as he listens.

“They’ve breached the lobby,” he says grimly. “Armed. Not here for a casual visit.”

I swallow hard, fighting the panic rising in my throat. “What do we do?”

He pulls me close, hand steady on my waist despite the chaos. “We fight. Together.”

His words are a lifeline, pulling me from the edge of despair.

Despite everything, I want to believe him.

The sound of footsteps echoes from the hallway, heavy and determined.

The guards tighten their formation as a group of masked men storm through the door.

“Get behind me!” Travis orders, voice cold steel.

I obey without hesitation, the heat of his body grounding me, steadying the storm inside.

The intruders move fast, but Travis is faster. His every move is precise, controlled—a predator in his element.

I watch, breathless, as he disarms one attacker with brutal efficiency, then spins to block another’s strike.

My pulse races not just from fear but something more primal—admiration, desire, something raw and untamed.

For a moment, our eyes meet across the chaos.

His gaze burns with something I can’t name—something dangerous and thrilling.

The fight is over almost as quickly as it began, the masked men retreating with curses and threats.

Travis turns back to me, breathing hard but victorious.

“Are you still with me?” he asks, voice rough.

I nod, heart pounding. “Always.”

He pulls me into a fierce embrace, the weight of the world falling away for just a heartbeat.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs against my hair. “And I’m not letting go.”

His words are a promise and a warning—one I’m not sure I’m ready to accept.

But as the city burns below us, one thing is clear: this dangerous dance has only just begun.

The heavy door slammed shut behind the retreating intruders, their curses still lingering in the air like smoke. Silence fell, thick and suffocating, but it wasn’t peace. It was the calm before another storm.

Travis pulled me tighter against his chest. “We’re not safe yet. They’ll come back.” His voice was low, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable — a man who had fought wars far worse than this.

I buried my face into his neck, inhaling the sharp scent of whiskey and something darker — danger, power, and the reckless promise of forever.

“You scared me,” I whispered, the admission raw and trembling.

His fingers threaded through my hair, steady and sure. “Good.”

I blinked up at him, heart skipping. “Good?”

He smirked, that cocky, infuriating grin that made my knees weak. “You’ll remember this night — not for the danger, but for how alive you felt. Because I’ll make sure of it.”

I swallowed hard, a mix of fear and want twisting in my gut.

“Come,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “We have a wedding to plan. And a war to win.”

The room had shifted since the chaos. Where once it was a battlefield, it now felt like a sanctuary — a fortress forged from our shared defiance.

Travis pulled out the contract again, the gold seal catching the chandelier light, gleaming like a challenge.

I sat beside him on the velvet sofa, our shoulders barely brushing, the electricity between us palpable.

“Read it carefully,” he said, voice softer now but laced with steel.

I traced the embossed letters with a trembling finger, the words blurring beneath my gaze.

As I spoke the terms aloud — promises of marriage, power, silence — his gaze never left me, dark and intense.