Ann's chest heaved as Damian's lips pulled away, leaving her breathless and angry all at once. She pushed him back with trembling hands, but he barely moved — his smirk only deepened.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her voice cracked, but her eyes didn't waver this time. "What am I to you, Damian? An asset? A puppet to keep under lock and key?"
His smile faded. For a heartbeat, something cold and sharp flashed in his eyes — then it was gone, hidden behind that mask he wore so well. He traced his thumb along her jaw, ignoring her flinch.
"You're my wife, Ann. That's all that matters."
"No," she shot back, stepping sideways so her back pressed to the locked door. "That's not an answer. Who are these people? Why is my face on that wall? Tell me the truth for once!"
Damian sighed, as if she were a stubborn child refusing to listen. He turned his back on her, crossing the room to the wall of photographs. His fingers drifted over them casually, like a king surveying pawns on a chessboard.
"They're threats," he said finally. "People who wanted to hurt me. To hurt us."
"Us?" Ann laughed, but it came out as a shaky, broken sound. "Don't lie. You don't care about us. You care about power. Control. You married me because—"
"Because you're mine." His voice snapped like a whip. He turned sharply, closing the distance between them in two strides. His hands pressed to either side of her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. "And no one takes what's mine."
Ann's breath caught in her throat. His closeness used to comfort her. Now it felt like a cage.
"You can't keep me here forever," she whispered.
Damian leaned in, his forehead brushing hers, his scent mixing danger and desire until her head spun. "Watch me."
His lips brushed her ear. "I love you, Ann. That's the only truth that matters."
She hated how her knees weakened at those words. She hated how her heart still wanted to believe him — the same heart that knew he could destroy her with a single secret.
He kissed her again, slower this time, soft enough to break her resolve piece by piece. His hands slid down her arms, caging her against the door. When he pulled back, his breath was warm against her lips.
"You're tired," he murmured. "Come back to bed."
But Ann's mind raced. If she went with him, she'd never get another chance. Not after tonight.
As his hand closed around hers, she forced herself to smile. "Alright, Damian. Let's go back."
He didn't see the way her free hand slipped the key into her robe pocket.
He didn't feel her heart pounding not from love, but from the new plan blooming behind her eyes.
This time, Ann wouldn't wait for his secrets to destroy her. This time, she'd unlock her own escape.