Adeline did not sleep.Every time she closed her eyes, Donovan's voice returned—calm, certain, unyielding. Desire, he had said, grew best when it believed it had a choice.She hated that part of her wanted to believe him.Morning arrived quietly. No guards barged in. No orders barked through doors. Instead, breakfast appeared—set neatly on the table near the window, untouched by human presence.A test, she realized.She ate anyway.By midday, Ethan came.He knocked once before entering, a courtesy she hadn't been offered before. He didn't look at her immediately, instead scanning the room as if ensuring it remained untouched by weakness."The boss wants you downstairs," he said.Her stomach tightened. "For what?"Ethan finally met her eyes. His gaze held something unreadable—warning, perhaps. Or pity."To talk."That frightened her more than punishment.They walked through corridors she had never seen before. Not the brutal, blood-stained parts of the estate—but the polished ones. Marble floors. Quiet halls. Power disguised as elegance.Donovan waited in the study.He stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, suit immaculate as always. He didn't turn when she entered."Leave us," he told Ethan.Ethan hesitated for half a second before obeying.The door closed.Silence followed."You didn't run," Donovan said calmly.She stiffened. "There was nowhere to go.""That's not what I meant."He turned then, eyes dark and sharp. "You could have broken. Screamed. Refused to eat. Refused to stand."She lifted her chin. "Would it have mattered?"A faint smile touched his lips. "Yes."He gestured to the chair opposite his desk. She sat slowly, like approaching a wild animal."You want to leave," he said. Not a question."Yes.""You think you can still be who you were before," he continued. "The girl who danced for money and dreamed of college."Her jaw clenched."That girl is gone," Donovan said evenly. "She died the moment you ran into my world."Anger flared. "You took her.""No," he corrected. "Reality did."He stepped closer, resting his hands on the desk, leaning just enough to invade her space."I'm not here to force you, Adeline," he said. "I'm here to offer you terms."Her heart pounded. "Terms?""You stay," he said. "You learn. You observe. You adapt.""And if I don't?"He straightened. "Then I let you go."Hope sparked—dangerously fast."But," he added calmly, "you leave without protection. Without money. Without the people you love being safe from the enemies you've already attracted."Her breath caught."You think the men who saw you that night don't remember your face?" he continued. "You think knowledge disappears once it's gained?"Tears burned, but she didn't let them fall."This is blackmail.""This," he said quietly, "is the cost of survival."He walked toward her then—not touching, not threatening—just close enough to make her feel the weight of him."I will not cage you," Donovan said. "But I will not pretend you are free."She whispered, "And what do you get?"His eyes softened—not kindly, but truthfully."You," he said.Not your body.Not your obedience.You.Silence stretched between them.Adeline realized then that this was not the beginning of captivity.This was the beginning of consent under pressure—and it terrified her far more."I need time," she said finally.Donovan nodded. "Take it."He turned away, dismissing he without another word.As Ethan escorted her back upstairs, Adeline understood one brutal truth:Donovan wasn't trying to trap her anymore.He was teaching her how to stay.
