Ann hadn't slept all night. She lay awake in Daniel's impossibly large bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, listening to his quiet breathing beside her.
He always slept like he owned the darkness, too — still, silent, except for the subtle catch in his breath when dreams came for him. Dreams he never spoke of, though she knew they weren't peaceful. Not with the blood he carried on his hands. Not with the secrets he'd buried deep enough to make even the city's criminals tremble.
But tonight, it wasn't Daniel's secrets that kept her awake. It was her own.
She shifted carefully, turning onto her side to look at him. The faint city lights slipping through the curtains carved soft shadows across his face. In sleep, his features softened — the sharp jaw, the cold eyes, the mouth that could order a killing as easily as it kissed her breathless.
Sometimes she wondered if she'd fallen in love with the man or the monster. And if there was really any difference at all.
When she finally slipped out of bed, dawn was just a smear of blue on the horizon. She padded barefoot through the penthouse, the marble floor cold against her skin.
She reached the balcony and stepped outside, wrapping her arms around herself. The city spread out below her — glittering lights, crawling cars, the illusion of normal life.
Somewhere down there, a man named Victor was waiting. Her brother's old friend — or so he claimed. The only person who might know how deep Daniel's claws really went into her family's ruin.
She shivered. Daniel had forbidden her to see Victor. He'd said it softly, with that dangerous edge in his voice that made her stomach knot in fear and longing all at once. "You don't need his answers, Ann. I am your truth now."
But she needed them. More than she needed her next breath.
She didn't hear him approach until his hands slipped around her waist from behind. She startled, but his warmth anchored her.
"You're cold." Daniel's voice was a low rumble against her ear.
Ann tried to twist away. He didn't let her. He pulled her back against his chest, chin resting on her shoulder.
"I couldn't sleep," she whispered.
"Liar." He kissed her neck, right under her ear, where he knew it made her melt. His lips lingered there, burning her skin in the cool dawn air. "You were thinking again."
Ann stiffened. "About what?"
He turned her to face him, hands braced on either side of her waist like a cage. His eyes were darker than the sky behind him. "About leaving me."
Her mouth fell open. "Daniel—"
He silenced her with a kiss — slow, deep, possessive. He tasted like sleep and secrets and danger, all wrapped in warmth she hated herself for craving.
When he pulled back, his breath brushed her lips. "If you ever think about running, Ann, you should know…" His thumb traced her jaw, deceptively gentle. "I will find you. There's no place on this earth you could hide."
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She forced her chin up. "And if I'm not hiding? What if I'm just searching for the truth you keep burying?"
His eyes flickered — a storm behind glass. "What truth?"
"About my brother. About my father. About why you keep me in this gilded cage and swear it's for love." Her voice cracked. "I know Victor's back in the city."
Daniel's hands tightened on her waist — not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her how easily he could. "Forget Victor. He's a ghost clinging to lies. If you talk to him, you won't like what you hear."
Ann's eyes filled with tears. She hated how easily he made her tremble — with fear, with longing. Sometimes she wondered if she was trembling for him, or for the girl she used to be before he stole her name and remade it into Mrs. Daniel King.
She turned her face away. "You can't control who I talk to."
His laugh was soft, almost tender. "Sweetheart. I already do."
He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. For a heartbeat, she felt his mask slip — the monster retreating, the man underneath clinging to her like a drowning man.
"I will protect you from everything, Ann," he murmured. "Even the truth."
When he left her standing on the balcony, she stayed there long after the sun clawed its way up the sky. The city below didn't care about kings or monsters. It just swallowed secrets and kept moving.
Later that day, Daniel was gone — a meeting with men who called him Mr. King with shaking voices and lowered eyes. The penthouse was too big, too quiet.
Ann found herself standing in front of her wardrobe, hands shaking as she packed a scarf, sunglasses, her phone. She paused to look in the mirror — at the girl with tired eyes and a wedding ring that felt heavier than chains.
She slipped out through the service elevator. No driver. No security detail. Just her heartbeat thundering in her ears as she climbed into a cab and gave the driver an address she'd never dared speak out loud.
Victor was waiting at an old café on the edge of the city — the kind of place that smelled like burnt coffee and stale cigarettes. He sat in the back, alone, nursing a cup that looked untouched.
When he saw her, he rose — older than she remembered, thinner, a scar cutting through his left brow. His smile was sad. "Ann. Or should I say Mrs. King?"
She sat across from him, hands wrapped around her coffee cup. "Tell me what you know."
Victor glanced at the door, then back at her. "He'll come for you, Ann. If he knows you're here—"
"Let him." Her voice was steady for the first time all day. "Tell me."
Victor leaned forward. "Your brother didn't die because he crossed the wrong men. He died because Daniel made him cross them. He set him up — a test. And when your brother failed, Daniel buried him. Literally."
Ann's stomach turned. She wanted to scream, to deny it. But deep down, the part of her that hadn't drowned in Daniel's warmth knew.
"Why?" she croaked.
Victor's eyes were cold. "Because Daniel needed you to have no one. No father to stand in the way. No brother to protect you. Just him."
Ann's head spun. Her vision blurred. She grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself. "You're lying."
Victor's mouth twisted into something like pity. "You already know I'm not. And you know what's worse?" He leaned in closer. "He loves you, Ann. In his twisted way, he thinks he saved you from your own family. He believes it."
Ann pushed back from the table so hard her chair screeched across the floor. She stumbled out into the street, the city spinning around her.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She didn't need to look to know who it was.
She answered anyway.
Daniel's voice slipped into her ear like silk and poison. "Come home, Ann."
Her knees buckled. "Did you know I'd find him?"
A soft laugh on the other end. "I knew you'd try. I know you, Ann. Better than you know yourself."
She could feel the leash tightening around her throat — made of silk, kisses, and the weight of his secrets. "Why, Daniel? Why me?"
For a moment, the monster dropped his mask. His voice was raw, so quiet she almost missed it over the traffic. "Because you make the monster feel human."