A Proposal of Separation

Nathalie witnessed the heated moment between me and the guy whose name I didn’t even know yet. But instead of hesitation, a surge of pride flared within me, fanning the flames of a sudden idea.

He’s not a bad option… If I use him as a fake boyfriend, I can finally get away from Nathalie.

My gaze assessed the man standing before me—towering, confident, and effortlessly exuding raw magnetism. He was exactly the kind of distraction I needed.

Dismissing the flicker of nervousness from earlier, I straightened my shoulders and walked toward Nathalie with purpose. His wide eyes followed my approach, his grip tightening around the wine glass he held. But then, just as quickly, his lips curled into a knowing smirk—a smirk laced with warning.

I refused to falter. If he wanted a game, I was more than ready to play.

The taste of the stranger’s lips still lingered on mine as I strode toward Nathalie, my steps deliberate, my confidence unwavering. His eyes darkened as he watched me, his fingers tightening around the stem of his wine glass.

I stopped in front of him, tilting my head slightly. “Let me go, Nathalie,” I said smoothly, a teasing smirk tugging at my lips. “Because I doubt you can handle my new boyfriend.”

Before he could react, I plucked the glass from his hand and took a bold sip, the burn of the liquor fueling my defiance.

Nathalie’s jaw clenched. “Bella, you’re too naive to understand the risk.”

I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. “I’m not,” I countered. “Your tricks won’t work on me anymore. You’ve played with me for too long.” I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice just enough to make sure the sting of my words hit. “Believe me or not, I have no interest in dating a gay man.”

His expression flickered—shock, anger, something else—before he masked it with that same smug smirk. But I wasn’t done.

“Why don’t you go find a guy who actually suits you?” I whispered, letting my words drip with mock sweetness.

Then, without breaking eye contact, I licked the last drop of liquor off my lips, placed the empty glass back in his hand, and patted his cheek in mock sympathy.

His smirk faltered for just a second.

And that was enough.

After the party, I walked toward the cab, the night air cool against my skin. Just as I reached for the door handle, a rough hand grabbed me, yanking me inside.

Panic surged through me as I landed against the leather seat, my breath hitching. My first thought? Debtors. They had finally caught up with me.

“Listen,” I blurted out, my voice rushed. “Just give me a few more days, I swear I’ll—”

A firm hand shot up, pressing against my lips. The warmth of skin against mine sent a jolt through my body. My words died in my throat.

"One more word,” a low voice warned, dark and edged with danger, “and you’re finished."

My pulse pounded as the hand slowly pulled away, and I finally met the stranger’s piercing gaze.

“What’s your relationship with Ronin?”

The question cut through the silence like a blade, sharp and demanding.

I swallowed hard. This wasn’t about money.

This was something far worse.

My brows knitted in confusion. “Who?”

He let out a sharp breath, his patience thinning. “The guy you were standing with.” His voice dropped lower, “The mafia don.”

My stomach twisted. Mafia? My mind raced, piecing together the fragments of the night. The man who kissed me—was that Ronin? But before I could fully process it, fingers curled around my chin, tilting my face toward him.

“Listen carefully,” he murmured, his grip tightening. “If you value your life, stay away from him or work for me.”

A chill ran down my spine. My throat felt dry, but I refused to let fear show. I forced myself to glare back. “Work for you?” I stuttered.

“Yes! You heard it right. You need to work with us against the mafia don!” He said with boldness in the tone. My head was spinning at this point not because of the liquor but the freaking demand. How am I supposed to work for him? And what on earth is a mafia don?

Ronin… I heard the name before but my tight routine and increasing debts never allowed me to waste my time swooning over these mafia don. What would I have to do with them?

Would he care to pay my debts? 

What if I don’t? I asked.

His lips curled into a smirk, void of amusement. “Then you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

“You have time till next morning to make a decision.” 

Before I could react, the door flew open, and I was shoved out of the car. My body hit the cold pavement with a gasp, pain shooting up my hands as I tried to break my fall.

I barely had time to catch my breath before another set of footsteps approached.

“Bella.”

My head snapped up. Nathalie stood over me, wearing a cringe smirk. I was too terrified from the warnings that my eyes welled up with tears.

And in that moment, I wasn’t sure if I had escaped danger—

Or walked straight into another trap.

Without a word, he crouched down, gripping my arm and pulling me up. “Get in.” He gestured toward his sleek black car parked beside the curb.

I hesitated, my mind screaming at me to refuse, to run—but my body refused to move. The weight of the warning I’d just received still clung to me, tightening around my lungs like a vice. I had no choice.

Silently, I slid into the passenger seat, my hands clenched together to hide their trembling. Nathalie said nothing as he started the engine, the low hum filling the tense silence. 

Ronin. The mafia don. So the guy I just kissed was actually a don I should fear?

I risked a glance at Nathalie, his jaw set in a hard line, his grip firm on the steering wheel.

“Where are we going?” I finally asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

His lips curved slightly, but there was no warmth in them. “Home.”

Minutes later, the car pulled through towering gates, leading to a grand estate bathed in soft golden lights.

A palace.

And suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I had escaped one captor—only to land in the hands of another.

I could feel Nathalie’s presence behind me, his warmth pressing closer, his breath drying the sweat on my forehead.

“Oh bella, see you can’t even survive a night without me. That’s a terrible idea to end this relationship.” His fingers brushed my arm, trailing up to my shoulder in a touch that once would have melted me. But not anymore.

I stepped away, my body rigid. “Don’t,” I said firmly. “Whatever magic you had—it’s gone, Nathalie. You lost it.”

“I know you, Bella. You’re drowning in debt. Your debtors are hunting you down. Only I can save you.” The edges of his mouth were curled up.

I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head as I wiped away the tears threatening to spill. “So this is it?” I whispered, my voice trembling with bitter realization.

I was never wrong in getting this man, he was one asshole I should have ran away from in the first place, had it not been for the debts. I was stuck with him, but now i have options. 

The offer from the abductors. I could actually work for them and get enough money to pay my debts, saving myself from the mess of licking his ass. 

 “You don’t love me. This is all about control, about keeping me here for your benefit.” I met his gaze, my heart shattering. “I was a fool to think you actually loved me.”

His lips curled into a smirk, but I saw the flicker of something in his eyes—something dangerous. “Oh, come on, Bella,” he scoffed. “You don’t love me either.”

I froze.

“That’s why you stayed, isn’t it?” he continued, stepping closer. “The money. The comfort. Me.”

“So, you think I would never come across your post you made on your socials. You believe I was unaware of your flexes, how you were becoming popular in your friends circles using my name and the luxuries I provided you.” He huffed.

Tears slipped down my cheeks as the truth cut through me like a blade.

Maybe he was right. Maybe we were both playing a game neither of us could win.

But I wasn’t going to lose myself in it anymore.

Nathalie watched me, his lips curling into something that almost resembled amusement. Then, as if my rejection meant nothing, he said smoothly, “Marry me.”

I stiffened, my breath catching in my throat.

“But,” he continued, his voice calm, calculated, “we won’t have to live together. You’ll have your own space, your freedom.” He tilted his head slightly, studying my reaction. “You’ll get my name, my protection… and in return, you’ll keep your debtors off your back.”

Disgust twisted in my stomach. “So that’s your grand solution?” My voice trembled with fury. “A business transaction disguised as a marriage?”

He shrugged. “It’s a fair deal, Bella.”

Something inside me snapped.

Slap!

My palm collided with his cheek, the sharp crack echoing through the grand room. Nathalie barely flinched, but the flicker of something—anger, or maybe amusement—danced in his eyes.

“You arrogant bastard!” I spat, my body trembling with rage. “You think I’d sell myself to you like that?”

I turned away, my vision blurring with unshed tears, and before I could stop myself, my hands reached for the expensive crystal vase sitting on the ornate table. With a furious cry, I hurled it to the ground. The shattering sound was like music to my ears.

Then another. And another.

Priceless decorative pieces, delicate sculptures, glass artifacts—each one met the cold marble floor, breaking into shards. My chest heaved, my fury spilling out in destruction.

Nathalie stood there, watching me with maddening calmness, his hands in his pockets.

“Feel better?” he asked, his voice infuriatingly composed.

I turned to him, my breath ragged. “Go to hell.”

His smirk deepened. “Darling, if you marry me, you might just take me there yourself.”

I grabbed the nearest object to throw, but he caught my wrist, pulling me close, his breath warm against my face.

"Think carefully, Bella," he murmured, his grip tightening just enough to make my pulse race. "You might not like me, but I'm still your best option."

I glared at him, my heart pounding.

I would rather burn in hell than be trapped in his twisted game.