Chapter 3: The Price of Yielding

The heavy door of the west wing suite locked with a soft, metallic click. The sound reverberated through the vast room, echoing down into the soles of my bare feet.

I spun around, driving my palms against the hard wood.

"Open the door!" I screamed, my voice cracking against the tall ceiling. I balled my hands into fists, beating against the paneling until my knuckles burned bright red and raw. "Let me out! Mrs. Gable! Anyone! Help me!"

Silence answered me. The corridor outside remained dead.

I backed away slowly, my chest heaving as I fought for oxygen. My frantic gaze swept the suite—a sprawling expanse of cold grays, white marble, and dark room dominated by a massive king-sized bed wrapped in white sheets. Across the room, floor-to-ceiling glass doors opened onto the private balcony.

I bolted toward them, grabbing the brass latch and pulling with all my weight.

Locked.

"Damn you!" I choked out, tears of pure rage blurring my vision.

Searching for anything to breach the glass, my eyes landed on a heavy bronze statue of a stag resting on a side table. I seized it with both hands, its weight heavy in my arms. Pulling it back over my shoulder, I swung it with everything I had.

Clang!

The bronze bounced off the glass with a ringing vibration that numbed my arms to the shoulders. I pressed my face against the pane. Not a single crack. It was reinforced, bulletproof glass.

My fingers gave out. The statue slipped from my grasp, thudding heavily into the plush carpet.

I collapsed onto the edge of the bed, wrapping my arms tightly around my waist. Hot tears spilled over my lashes, falling down my face. The last lingering effect from the drug was gone, replaced by the suffocating reality of my situation. I was trapped on a private island, devoid of a phone, money, or a line to the outside world.

Aiden, I thought, squeezing my eyes shut.

His warm, gentle face flooded my mind—his soft brown eyes, his quiet laugh, the reassuring way he held my hand when we walked home from the office. Right now, he was probably scouring the city, calling every emergency room and precinct, out of his mind with terror.

The hours bled together in suffocating darkness. The sun sank beneath the horizon, swallowing the stormy ocean in pitch blackness. I had refused the dinner tray left in my room. I sat huddled in the corner of the grand headboard, listening to the relentless, violent thrashing of the waves against the cliffside below.

At exactly ten o’clock, the electronic lock clicked.

A sliver of warm corridor light sliced through the room. A tall shadow crossed the threshold, and the heavy door clicked shut behind him.

Roman.

He had shed his suit jacket and tie. The top buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone, his sleeves folded neatly up his forearms. In the pale moonlight filtering through the glass, he appeared even broader, more dominating.

My muscles locked instantly. I scrambled off the bed, backing across the floor until my heels struck the locked balcony glass.

"Get out!" I rasped, my voice trembling. I scooped the bronze stag off the carpet, raising it like a weapon. "Stay back!"

Roman didn't slow his stride. He moved toward me with effortless grace, his face entirely unreadable.

"You left your dinner untouched," Roman said smoothly, stopping five feet from me. "And you’ve been crying."

"I told you to get away from me!" I spat, my shaking hands straining to hold the heavy metal aloft. "I am not your surrogate! I will never let you lay a hand on me! Step any closer and I’ll kill you with this!"

Roman’s eyes dropped to the bronze statue in my grip, then rose slowly to meet my gaze. A faint, smile touched the corner of his lips.

"You’re holding a weapon you barely have the strength to lift, Sunny," he murmured, taking a slow step forward. "Do you truly believe that trinket will protect you from me?"

"Try me!" I shrieked, swinging the metal downward with all my force.

In a matter of a second, Roman moved.

He was blindingly fast. Before I could bring my arms down, his heavy hand clamped around my wrists. With a sharp twist of his grip, a flash of pain forced my fingers to unlock. The bronze statue crashed into the rug.

"Let me go!" I shrieked, kicking wildly at his legs and driving my knee upward.

Roman didn't flinch. He caught my other wrist, pinning both of my arms firmly behind my back. In one fluid motion, he pulled me flush against his broad chest. The heat radiating through his shirt was suffocating. I twisted, squirmed, and tried to sink my teeth into his shoulder, fighting like a trapped wild animal.

"Fighting me only exhausts you, Sunny," Roman breathed into my hair, holding me securely without visible effort. "And it is completely futile."

"You monster!" I sobbed, tears spilling down my face as my physical strength proved entirely useless against him. "This is kidnapping! Money doesn't give you the right to own people!"

Roman tightened his hold on my wrists just enough to immobilize me. He dipped his head until his lips brushed my ear.

"I don't care about the legalities, Sunny," he whispered, his low voice vibrating straight into my bones. "I care about total possession. You belong to me now—your body, your time, your entire life."

"I will never bear your child!" I choked out through my sobs. "I’ll starve myself! I’ll throw myself off this balcony! I will die before I let you touch me!"

Roman let out a low sigh. He didn't raise his voice or show anger. Instead, he reached into his pocket with his free hand, produced a sleek black smartphone, and illuminated the screen in front of my face.

"Look," he commanded flatly.

I tried to turn my face away, but his thumb caught my jaw, forcing my gaze down to the glowing display.

It was a live surveillance stream. The camera was angled at a familiar, dimly lit street—a small white sedan parked beneath a flickering streetlight in front of a brick apartment complex.

My heart stopped. "Aiden..."

"Your darling boyfriend," Roman whispered against my ear, his tone chillingly calm. "Currently sitting in his living room, hyperventilating as he dials the police for the tenth time today, out of his mind because you disappeared."

A wave of horror flooded my veins, instantly snuffing out my rage. "How... how do you have a camera there?"

"I have unlimited reach, Sunny," Roman said smoothly. "Now look at the black SUV idling across from his building."

I stared at the screen. A dark vehicle with blacked-out glass sat quietly in the shadows directly outside Aiden’s entrance.

"In that car sit two of my men," Roman murmured, his thumb trailing over my cheek in a possessive touch. "One tap on this screen, and they walk upstairs. By sunrise, your sweet boyfriend will be dragged out in handcuffs, charged with massive financial fraud. The evidence is already sitting on his personal computer. He’ll serve twenty years in a maximum-security facility."

"No..." I gasped, shaking my head in terror. "No! He didn't do anything! He's innocent!"

"And if twenty years in prison doesn't break your defiance," Roman continued offhandedly, "I can send a different command. That black car can hit him while he crosses the street tomorrow morning. A tragic, fatal accident."

"Stop it!" I shrieked, my voice shattering into a ragged sob. "Stop! Don't touch him! Please, God, don't hurt Aiden!"

"Then make your choice," Roman said.

He released my wrists and stepped back, holding the glowing phone between us. His pale ice-blue eyes stared down at me, entirely cold and unyielding.

"Keep fighting me," Roman said softly. "Refuse your food. Scream all night. And watch me tear his life apart, piece by piece."

I stood frozen in the moonlight, my entire frame shaking violently. My hands hovered uselessly in the air between us.

All my fire, all my defiance, crumbled into ash. I could survive a locked room. I could endure pain. But I could never live with myself if gentle, innocent Aiden was murdered or thrown into prison because of me.

"What..." My voice dropped to a broken whisper. "What do you want from me?"

A slow, terrifying smile curved Roman’s lips. He lowered the phone, sliding it into his pocket, and took a step forward until his shadow swallowed me whole.

"Take off the slip, Sunny," he murmured, his long fingers brushing a stray tear from my cheek. "And do it like you mean it."

Tears streamed down my face in silence. With trembling fingers, I reached for the thin silk straps resting on my shoulders. I pushed them down one by one. The smooth cream fabric slid down my body and pooled around my ankles, leaving me exposed in the freezing moonlight.

Roman’s gaze swept over me without hurry. He reached out, his hand cupping my jaw to tilt my face upward. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine in a kiss that tasted of salt, absolute power, and my complete defeat.