I couldn't breathe.
"You?" I whispered.
His fingers were still resting against my cheek, warm and steady, as if he hadn't just shattered my world.
"The men your father owes," he continued calmly, "stopped caring about money weeks ago."
My pulse thundered in my ears.
"What do they want from me?" I asked, my voice barely steady.
His jaw tightened.
"Leverage."
The word hit harder than any scream.
"I'm not some object to trade!"
His eyes darkened.
"In their world," he said quietly, "you are."
Silence swallowed the room.
I stepped back from him.
"You're lying."
"If I were lying," he replied smoothly, "I would have let you run tonight."
I hated that he had a point.
"You expect me to believe you're protecting me?" I snapped. "You locked me in."
"I secured you."
"That's not the same thing!"
"It is when your life is at stake."
His calmness infuriated me.
"Then why didn't you tell me before?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he walked to the window, staring out at the dark estate grounds.
"Because I wanted you to hate me," he said finally.
I froze.
"What?"
"If you believed I bought you out of cruelty," he continued, "you would resist. You would fight. You would stay sharp."
I stared at his back.
"You're insane."
"Perhaps."
He turned toward me.
"But alive."
I shook my head.
"This is manipulation."
"Yes."
He didn't even deny it.
"And yet you're still breathing."
My chest tightened.
"Who are these men?" I asked.
He hesitated for a fraction of a second.
"They're not small-time collectors," he said. "They operate internationally. Human trafficking. Weapons. Private auctions."
Cold crept into my veins.
"Auctions?" I whispered.
His silence was answer enough.
The room spun.
"They would have sold me."
"Yes."
The honesty in his voice felt like ice.
"And you?" I asked quietly. "What makes you different?"
His gaze locked onto mine.
"I don't share what belongs to me."
The possessiveness in his tone sent a dangerous shiver down my spine.
"I am not your property," I said firmly.
He stepped closer again.
"No," he said softly. "You are my responsibility."
The words weren't gentle.
But they weren't cruel either.
They carried weight.
"Why?" I demanded. "Why would you care what happens to me?"
He studied me carefully.
"You think this is about debt?"
"It started that way."
"Yes."
"And now?"
He moved closer until the air between us felt electric.
"Now it's about war."
My breath caught.
"What war?"
"They want to send me a message," he said quietly. "Taking you would do that."
My stomach twisted.
"So I'm bait."
"You were."
Past tense.
"What changed?" I whispered.
His hand lifted slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
"You did."
My heart stuttered.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
The tension between us felt different now.
Less predator.
More storm.
"You should have told me," I said softly.
"And risk you panicking?"
"I almost ran into their hands tonight!"
"I know."
My eyes widened.
"You what?"
"I had eyes on you."
Of course he did.
"You followed me."
"I protect what's mine."
"There you go again."
His lips curved faintly.
"You'll get used to it."
"I won't."
"You will."
The certainty in his voice was terrifying.
And strangely comforting.
I hated that.
A sharp knock interrupted us.
He instantly stepped back, the warmth in his eyes vanishing.
"Yes," he said coldly.
The door opened slightly.
"Sir," a guard said, "we intercepted a message."
His expression hardened.
"From them?"
"Yes."
My pulse spiked.
"What message?" I demanded.
The guard glanced at me uncertainly.
"Speak," he ordered.
"They know she's here."
The air turned suffocating.
"How?" I whispered.
His jaw flexed.
"Doesn't matter."
"It does matter!"
He ignored me and addressed the guard.
"Double security. No one enters without my authorization."
"Yes, sir."
The door closed.
Silence.
"They know," I repeated.
His gaze returned to me.
"Good."
"Good? Are you insane?"
"It means they're impatient."
"That's not reassuring!"
"It means they'll make a mistake."
"And what if I'm the mistake?"
He stepped toward me again.
"You're the reason they'll lose."
My head spun.
"I don't want to be part of your war."
"You already are."
I swallowed.
Fear crawled under my skin.
"They won't get you," he said firmly.
"You can't promise that."
"I can."
"You're not God."
"No," he replied quietly. "I'm worse."
A chill ran down my spine.
He wasn't joking.
"Why are you telling me all this now?" I asked.
"Because from tonight on," he said calmly, "you don't leave my side."
My heart skipped.
"What?"
"You will attend meetings with me. Events. Public appearances."
"Like what?"
"Like someone untouchable."
Realization dawned slowly.
"You're going to use me."
"I'm going to make them afraid to touch you."
The strategy clicked into place.
"If they see you publicly with me," he continued, "they'll hesitate."
"And if they don't?"
His eyes darkened.
"Then they declare war openly."
"And what happens then?"
His voice lowered.
"Then I end them."
The cold promise in his tone was absolute.
I stared at him.
Trying to understand the man who claimed to protect me while caging me.
"You're dangerous," I whispered.
"Yes."
"And I'm supposed to trust you?"
"No."
He stepped closer once more.
"But you're safer with me than anywhere else in this world."
The truth in his eyes scared me more than lies ever could.
Because deep down…
I believed him.
War begins in Chapter 6. Add to library if you're ready.