Chapter 13

From across the hall, Mr. Sinclair’s voice cut in, sharp and bitter. “This is outrageous.”

Roman didn’t turn. He didn’t need to. He could feel the man’s glare burning into his back.

“You barge into my house, Roman Thorne, you dictate when and how things are done, and now you act as though you own her already?” Mr. Sinclair’s fists trembled at his sides. “She’s my daughter, not your property.”

Roman’s voice came out low, even, but deadly. “She will be my wife. And I don’t share what’s mine.”

Mr. Sinclair’s face darkened, but Mrs. Sinclair stepped forward quickly, laying a hand on her husband’s arm. “Darling, please… let it go. This marriage is what matters. It’s what we’ve been working toward.”

“Working toward?” Mr. Sinclair barked. “What I saw just now was him undermining me in front of her. Possessiveness isn’t respect, it’s weakness.”

Roman finally turned his head, his eyes glacial as they landed on the elder man. “Weakness,” he repeated slowly, “is letting your daughter taunt and defy you without consequence. Possessiveness...” his gaze slid deliberately back to Elena, lingering on the curve of her smirk, the fire in her eyes “...is knowing no one else will ever dare touch her.”

The words slashed through the room like a brand.

Mr. Sinclair bristled, his lips curling as though he wanted to spit curses at the billionaire. But Mrs. Sinclair tightened her grip, whispering urgently in his ear.

The man gave a frustrated growl, then stormed away, muttering under his breath.

Roman turned back to Elena, his expression unreadable. She hadn’t moved. Still leaning on her trunk, still smirking as though none of this touched her.

“You don’t scare me,” she said quietly, almost too soft, but the steel in her tone made his pulse kick hard.

Roman leaned in close enough that only she could hear. “Good. Fear is boring.”

Her smirk widened. “Then you’re in for a very long marriage.”

The driver returned, announcing that a second vehicle was already on the way to handle her… unusual luggage.

Roman didn’t so much as blink. He reached for Elena’s arm, his grip firm but not bruising, his voice commanding.

“You’re coming with me. Now.”

Elena allowed him to guide her toward the door, her lips curving as she tossed one last glance over her shoulder. “Don’t keep staring at my cases, Roman. Curiosity doesn’t suit you.”

Roman’s eyes darkened, his jaw flexing hard as he led her out to the waiting car. Because for the first time, he wanted to know and Roman did not like wanting.

The car door shut with a solid thud, cutting off the last of the Sinclair estate. Roman slid into the backseat beside Elena, his phone already in hand, his voice clipped as he barked orders.

“Drafts aren’t good enough. I want the final contract ready on my desk in one hour. Every clause airtight, every loophole burned. Do you understand?”

The line crackled as his lawyer stammered out an agreement.

Roman’s gaze remained cold and fixed ahead, his long fingers tapping once against his knee as the city blurred past the tinted windows.

Beside him, Elena leaned back lazily, watching him with the amused gaze of a cat who had cornered a lion.

“You’re very charming on the phone,” she drawled, her tone light, mocking. “Do all your lawyers quake when you breathe at them?”

Roman didn’t look at her. “They’re paid to follow orders, not question them.”

Elena hummed softly, as though mulling over his words. Then, as his conversation with the lawyer shifted into details of asset protections and confidentiality clauses, she shifted too, her posture changing, her voice turning sweet, almost sing song.

Her lashes fluttered, her lips curving in faux innocence. “Oh, Roman,” she cooed, tilting her head, “if I’m going to be such a dutiful wife, shouldn’t I have some incentive?”

He finally turned his head, arching a brow at her sudden shift in tone.

Elena leaned closer, her smile dazzling, playful. “I think…” She tapped her chin as if considering. “When I sign that contract, everything under your name should become mine too. Properties, accounts, businesses. All of it.”

The driver nearly choked on his breath in the front seat.

Roman’s lawyer, still on the line, stammered, “Sir, did she just say...”

Roman’s eyes never left Elena’s, his expression unreadable. “Yes,” he said smoothly, cutting the man off. “Add it.”

The silence that followed was thick enough to crush air.

Elena’s smirk faltered, her laugh caught in her throat. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Roman’s lips curved, slow and dangerous. “Deadly.”

On the line, the lawyer’s voice trembled. “M.. Mr. Thorne, are you sure you...”

“Do it,” Roman commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “Every asset, every share, every account. Add her name. Today.”

“Yes, sir.” The lawyer disconnected hastily, leaving the car in a heavy, stunned quiet.

Elena blinked at him, her heartbeat stuttering despite her outward poise.

She had thrown the words like darts meant to tease him, meant to prick his pride. She hadn’t expected him to catch them and drive them deeper.

“You’re insane,” she said finally, her tone half a laugh, half disbelief.

Roman leaned back, his eyes pinned on her, hungry and sharp. “You wanted everything under my name. Now you have it. The moment you sign, it’s yours.”

Her pulse jumped. “Why would you do that? You don’t even trust me.”

His voice dropped low, lethal and intimate. “Because you won’t leave. And if you try...” His gaze cut through her, a promise of both destruction and desire. “You’ll realize too late that having everything tied to me means you can’t breathe without me.”

Elena’s lips parted, but words refused to come.

Roman’s eyes raked over her face, lingering on the flicker of surprise she tried, and failed, to mask.

His smirk returned, slow and satisfied.

“Speechless?” he murmured. “That’s a first.”

She swallowed, forcing her smirk back onto her lips. “Careful, Roman. Give me too much power, and I might start enjoying it.”

He leaned in, so close their shoulders brushed, his voice a dark caress. “Good. I want you to enjoy it. That way, when I take it all back, it’ll hurt more.”