Chapter 4

Day 3.

Anna had learned the rhythm of the estate.

Breakfast at nine, brought in by the silent woman she now knew as Marta. Cameras blinked in each corner, but they didn’t follow her. That was the first clue — they were watched, but not constantly.

Tyler never came before noon. She guessed he liked to let her stew. Or maybe he believed the luxury would soften her resolve.

It didn’t.

If anything, the marble floors, silk curtains, and untouched bookshelves reminded her of exactly what this was — a high-end prison.

But she had a plan now.

And if Tyler wanted a performance… she’d give him one so convincing, he’d never see the knife coming until it was at his throat.

---

That afternoon, he came to her again.

This time, dressed in a black sweater and jeans. Less mafia prince, more charming recluse.

“Care for a walk?” he asked, standing in the doorway like a suitor on a date instead of a captor visiting his prisoner.

Anna tilted her head, lips curved into a calculated smile. “As long as you don’t shove me into a van again.”

Tyler chuckled. “That depends on your behavior.”

She stood and walked past him, deliberately brushing his shoulder with hers. His subtle inhale didn’t go unnoticed.

They walked through the west garden. The sun was warm, and the wind smelled like lavender. A small fountain gurgled in the center.

“You have an obsession with perfection,” she said softly, glancing around.

Tyler kept his hands in his pockets. “Beauty makes life tolerable.”

“Even when you force it?” she asked, turning to him with innocent curiosity.

He smiled. “Even more so when it doesn’t resist.”

Anna gave a light laugh. “Do you always flirt with the women you kidnap?”

“I’ve never kidnapped anyone before,” he replied.

She looked him over. “Hard to believe.”

Tyler stopped walking and faced her. “You’re different, Anna. I’ve known that since the moment you looked me in the eye and told me you’d cut out Abel’s tongue.”

“That wasn’t flirtation,” she said. “That was a threat.”

“And I found it irresistible.”

She looked away, letting her expression soften just enough.

“You know,” she murmured, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

“Dangerous habit,” he said.

“I’ve been wondering who you are when no one’s looking.”

He raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

Anna turned to him fully. “You built this empire. The business, the image, the myth. But who’s the man underneath all the smoke and mirrors?”

“Is that your strategy?” Tyler asked. “Win me over with sweet curiosity?”

“I could ask the same of you,” she said. “Or was kidnapping me supposed to make me fall for you? Was that your idea of romance?”

He looked at her carefully.

“You think this is about love?” he said quietly.

“I think it’s about power,” she replied. “And you’re not used to losing.”

He didn’t deny it.

Anna stepped closer. “What if I told you I don’t hate you, Tyler?”

His eyes flickered. “I’d say you’re lying.”

She smiled, soft but not sweet. “Not entirely. I hate what you did. But you… you’re not what I expected.”

“And what did you expect?”

“A monster.”

“And now?”

“I see a man trying too hard not to feel.”

Tyler was silent for a moment. The breeze stirred the trees around them.

Then he asked, “What do you want, Anna?”

She didn’t answer immediately. She stepped closer still, until she stood toe to toe with him.

“I want to understand you,” she said softly. “Before I decide how much I can forgive.”

It wasn’t a confession. It was a trap — and it worked.

Tyler’s breath hitched.

She saw it.

The hesitation. The flicker of something vulnerable.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he said, almost to himself.

“No,” she whispered. “You want me to be. But what you really crave… is for someone to see you. Without fear. Without worship. Just… see you.”

He said nothing.

She turned and began walking back toward the house, leaving him standing in the sunlight, confused and silent.

---

Later that night, Anna sat in the private library Tyler had shown her. The fireplace crackled softly. Her fingers traced the spine of a rare poetry book on the table.

The door creaked open behind her.

She didn’t turn.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said.

“You knew I would,” Tyler replied, stepping in.

She looked over her shoulder, face unreadable. “I left the book open for you.”

He glanced at the page.

Pablo Neruda. A poem about desire — aching, maddening desire.

“You’re clever,” he said.

“I told you I’d try,” she replied.

Tyler sat across from her, eyes fixed on her face.

“You’ve changed your tune,” he said. “Yesterday you swore you’d destroy me.”

Anna leaned forward, her voice low.

“I still might.”

His eyes narrowed.

“But maybe,” she continued, “there’s something worse than being destroyed.”

“Like what?”

“Being ignored.”

Tyler stared at her. “That’s what this is about? Attention?”

“No,” she said. “This is about control. And I’m not letting you have all of it.”

He stood, suddenly tense. “Don’t play with fire, Anna.”

She stood too, matching his intensity.

“I’m not playing,” she whispered. “I’m learning.”

“Learning what?”

“How to make you fall for me first.”

Tyler blinked.

And then — he laughed. A real, unguarded laugh that startled even her.

She smirked. “What? Didn’t expect your hostage to flirt back?”

“I expected you to scream. Cry. Curse me. Not seduce me.”

“Maybe I’m tired of screaming,” she said. “Maybe I’ve realized the only way out… is through you.”

Silence fell between them, electric and dangerous.

Tyler stepped closer, then hesitated.

“If you keep this up,” he said darkly, “you might actually make me believe you care.”

Anna leaned in. “Maybe I want you to.”

His hand hovered near her cheek, trembling for a second.

Then he stepped back.

“You’re dangerous.”

“I learned from the best,” she said.

He left then — no threats, no promises.

Just a quiet door closing behind him.

---

Later That Night

Anna lay in the massive bed, staring at the ceiling.

Her heart thundered.

You’re getting too close, her thoughts warned.

But she knew the truth.

The closer she got, the more he unraveled. The more control she took back.

She didn’t need to love him.

She needed him to believe she might.

Because when that belief turned into trust…

She’d break him.

And when he least expected it—

She’d walk away with everything.