CHAPTER 3

He hangs up the phone and slips it into his pocket. The room falls silent for a few seconds, broken only by my ragged breathing and the relentless rain hammering against the windows.

I’m still cuffed to the bed, half-naked, my body throbbing where he touched me. Guilt chokes me. How could I have reacted like that? How could I have felt pleasure at the hands of the man who kidnapped me on my wedding day?

Declan stares at me. His blue eyes are dark and hungry, but something softer flickers in them when he talks about his daughter.

“She waited six years for you,” he says quietly. “I’m not going to make her wait any longer.”

He releases the cuffs with a soft click. Before I can move, he pulls me up by the waist and sets me on my feet. My legs tremble. The torn dress barely covers me. He grabs his damp jacket and drapes it over my shoulders, covering me as best he can.

“Wear this for now. I don’t want her seeing you like this.”

As if that matters anymore.

He guides me out of the room, his hand firm on the back of my neck. We descend the stairs. My heart pounds harder with every step.

In the entrance hall, a little blond girl stands beside Luka—the calmer blond who had the laptop on the jet. The moment she sees me, her blue eyes—identical to Declan’s—widen.

“Mommy…?”

Her voice is small, filled with a hope that splits me in two.

Claire.

She takes one hesitant step, then another, and runs toward me. Her little arms wrap around my waist with surprising strength, her face burying into my chest.

“Mommy… you came back… you really came back…”

I freeze. My body doesn’t know how to respond. But something inside me—something instinctive and deep—does. My hands shake as they settle on her back. The scent of children’s shampoo and something sweet rises to me. My chest aches painfully.

“I… I don’t…” My voice cracks. Hot tears spill down my cheeks. “I don’t remember…”

Claire lifts her face, eyes shining with tears, but her smile is huge and radiant.

“It’s okay. Daddy said you’re sick in your head. But you’ll get better. I’ll help you remember. I know all our favorite songs, the secret spot in the garden, and—”

She keeps talking fast, desperate, like she’s been saving up six years of words. I just hold her, feeling an overwhelming wave of love swell in my chest even though my mind is still blank.

Declan watches us from against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes never leave us. There’s possessiveness. Pride. And a dark hunger that makes me shiver.

Luka clears his throat.

“I’ll take Matt home. I’ll leave you three as a family.”

Who is Matt?

He leaves. It’s just the three of us.

Claire doesn’t let go. She clings tighter, as if terrified I’ll disappear.

“You’re not leaving again, right, Mommy?” she asks, her voice small and scared. “Daddy said you came back to stay. Forever.”

I can’t answer. My gaze meets Declan’s over the top of her head.

He watches me with that suffocating intensity. His lips move, almost soundless:

“Say yes.”

My throat closes. Claire squeezes me even tighter, her wet little face pressed against my chest.

And I, trapped between the terror of the man who kidnapped me and the inexplicable love I feel for this child I don’t remember giving birth to, whisper in a broken voice:

“I… I’m staying.”

Claire lets out a happy sob and hugs me harder.

Declan smiles. A slow, dark, victorious smile.

He steps closer, wraps one arm around both of us, and kisses the top of my head, murmuring against my hair:

“Good girl.”

And I feel it deep in my chest—I’ve just signed a contract I can no longer tear up.

Claire doesn’t let go of me for even a second.

I feel her little heart beating fast against mine, and something inside me cracks a little more.

“You’re shaking, Mommy,” she whispers, lifting her tear-streaked face. Her blue eyes look at me with pure worry. “Are you cold? Daddy can give you a sweater. He always gives me one when I’m cold.”

I can’t speak. My throat is too tight. This is all too much. The house, the photos, and this child calling me "Mommy" like I’m the most important person in her world.

Declan stands behind me, his big, warm body pressed against my back. One of his hands rests possessively on my waist, fingers pressing lightly—a silent reminder that I’m not going anywhere.

“She’s okay, princess,” he says, his voice surprisingly soft when he speaks to her. “Just tired from the trip. Let’s go up to her room, yeah?”

Claire nods but still doesn’t release me. She grabs my hand with both of hers and pulls me up the stairs, chattering nonstop.

“My room is right next to yours and Daddy’s. I drew lots of pictures for you while you were… sleeping. And the teddy bear you gave me when I was a baby is still there. I took care of him every single day.”

Every word feels like a sweet knife to my chest. I climb the stairs as if in a nightmare, feeling Declan’s burning gaze on the back of my neck the entire time.

When we enter the bedroom again, I stop in the doorway.

This time I really see it.

It’s beautiful. Soft cream walls, a large bed with white linens, and an antique telescope by the window. There are photos of me pregnant, photos of me with baby Claire, and a guitar leaning against the wall.

I feel like an intruder in someone else’s life.

Claire pulls me to the bed and makes me sit. Then she climbs into my lap and hugs me again.

“You’re going to sleep here tonight, right? With me and Daddy?”

I look at Declan, who stands in the doorway watching us with that same mix of hunger and satisfaction.

“I… I don’t know,” I murmur.

“Yes, she is,” Declan answers, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “She’s sleeping here, Claire. With us.”

Claire smiles, relieved, and snuggles closer. I wrap my arms around her almost instinctively. My body seems to remember the motion even if my mind doesn’t.

After a while, Declan approaches and strokes his daughter’s hair.

“Time to brush your teeth and put on pajamas, little one. We have all day tomorrow to be together.”

Claire grumbles but obeys. Before leaving the room, she gives me one more tight hug and whispers in my ear:

“I love you, Mommy. Even if you don’t remember yet. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

When she leaves, the room falls silent.

Declan locks the door.

I stand up from the bed quickly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You can’t force me to sleep here.”

He walks toward me slowly, peeling off the rest of his damp shirt. The muscles in his chest and abs shift under the low light. The wedding ring on the chain sways against his skin. My eyes trace every tattoo.

“I can,” he says simply. “And I will.”

He stops right in front of me, so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

“You can pretend you don’t want me. You can cry. You can feel guilty.” His hand rises and grips my chin. “But tonight you’re sleeping in our bed. And I’m going to hold you while you sleep. Because you’re my wife. And I waited years to do this again.”

I swallow hard, feeling that damn heat return to my belly despite everything.

“I’m scared of you,” I confess, my voice barely audible.

He leans in, resting his forehead against mine. His breath is warm against my lips.

“Good. Fear is a good start.” He brushes his nose against mine. “Because when the fear mixes with desire… that’s when you’ll start remembering who you really are.”

He kisses me. Slowly this time. Almost gentle. But still possessive. Still dominating.

And I, against every ounce of my will, close my eyes and kiss him back.

Just a little.

Just enough to hate myself even more.