"You will marry him, Selene, and that is the end of this discussion," Mrs. Hart said coldly.
Selene knelt before her, held down by two bodyguards, tears streaming down her face. "Mother… Mother, please. You can't do this to me. Please, I beg you," Selene pleaded.
Mrs. Hart's face showed no emotion.
Not because she felt nothing.
But because the family business was in shambles, and this was the only way left. The only sacrifice she could offer.
"Take her away," Mrs. Hart ordered.
The guards bowed, then dragged Selene to her feet.
"Mother! Mother, please!" Selene screamed, struggling against their grip. "Mother!"
Her cries echoed through the halls as they dragged her toward the garage, where a black Rolls-Royce waited. The guards shoved her inside and shut the door behind her. One of them gave a brief signal to the driver.
Then the car pulled away, carrying Selene into the future her mother had chosen for her.
The car pulled up in front of a vast mansion, its towering structure looming over Selene like a prison dressed in wealth. The door opened, and before she could steady herself, she was dragged out and led into the mansion hall. The guards shoved her forward, and she landed hard on the polished floor.
Right at his feet.
When Selene looked up, the irritation and hatred on her face were impossible to miss.
The man before her smiled, a cold, deadly smile. He sat imposed on the grand chair with commanding authority, a dark aura seeming to emanate from him. This was the most dangerous man in the country.
But Selene did not fear him. She loathed him with all her heart.
"Caesar," Selene drawled, his name leaving her lips cold and hateful.
Caesar's smile didn't vanish. If anything, it widened. "Well, hello, dear. Miss me?" he teased.
Selene spat on the ground. "You wish." Her tone turned colder.
Her mother had married her off to Caesar to restore the family's glory and honour.
And Selene had run.
Selene Hart came from an aristocratic family slowly crumbling into ruin. Their wealth was fading, their name slipping from the ranks of high society. Her father had died five years ago, and his death had shaken the family business so deeply that it never fully recovered.
Then Caesar came.
A mafia crime lord. A businessman. The owner of one of the largest and most influential corporations in the country. He had proposed marriage to Selene through her mother.
Mrs. Hart, desperate and cornered, had accepted. To her, it was the family's only escape from complete bankruptcy.
Selene had screamed. Thrashed. Begged.
But her mother had paid no mind.
And when Selene realised her tears could not break the brutal marriage bond awaiting her, she had ran away. She forged a passport, took on a fake alias, and nearly made it to freedom.
But at the airport, just as escape was within reach, a group of men in uniform intercepted her and bundled her back to her mother.
How they had found her, she still didn't know. Now she was here. In his mansion. With no way out.
"My, my," Caesar said, finally rising from his chair. "What a feisty little thing you are."
He bent down before her, reaching out to touch her face, but Selene slapped his hand away.
"Don't fucking touch me," she growled.
The smile on Caesar's face vanished.
In its place came a cold gaze that sent a shiver through her despite herself. The atmosphere shifted at once, growing heavier, almost suffocating.
Caesar seized her chin with one hand and pulled her closer. His grip was painful, his fingers digging into her skin.
"The only reason…" His voice dropped dangerously low. "…you're still alive, mutt, is because I find you entertaining." With his other hand, he brushed the strands of hair away from her face. "Keep resisting, and your mother will pay the price for your insolence."
"You wouldn't... " Selene began.
Caesar cut her off immediately. "Test me again," he said, his voice cruel, "and I won't be so forgiving."
His threat were not empty
This was Caesar.
A cruel man no one dared defy. A man feared across countries. A man whose name alone could silence rooms.
Selene swallowed whatever brave words had risen in her throat.
Caesar watched her for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Good girl."
He released her and straightened.
"See to it that the mutt is settled in her quarters and prepared for the wedding tomorrow," he ordered the servants standing at a distance.
His gaze swept once more over Selene. "I will have no further delay."
Then he turned and walked out, leaving Selene on the floor of his mansion, trapped in the future she had tried so desperately to escape.
The wedding was concluded the next day.
By law, by name, and by the cold diamond ring sitting heavily on her finger, Selene was now Caesar's wife.
Yet on the night of their wedding, Caesar was nowhere to be found. He had important matters to attend to.
Selene sat by the window in the grand bedroom, still dressed in her wedding attire, the white fabric pooling around her like a beautiful cage.
She had not taken anything off.
Her gaze remained fixed on the darkened grounds outside, but her mind was far from the view. It was racing and calculating.
Escape.
That was the only thought that mattered.
The ring on her finger felt less like a symbol of marriage and more like a shackle. A bright, glittering chain binding her to a man she despised and a house she already hated. She hated the walls. Hated the silence. Hated the name she had been forced to carry.
Most of all, she hated him.
But for her mother's sake, she had stayed.
For her mother's sake, she had walked down the aisle. For her mother's sake, she had placed her hand in Caesar's and let the world call it marriage.
But Selene refused to accept it. She would not.
A knock sounded at the door before it opened gently. A maid stepped inside and lowered her head.
"Mrs…"
Selene did not respond.
The maid hesitated, watching the new mistress stare out of the window as though the glass might suddenly turn into a door and let her flee.
"Mrs…"
Still nothing.
Selene's thoughts sharpened. How would she leave? Where could she go? How far could she run before Caesar's men found her? Would he chase her himself, or would he consider her too insignificant for that?
"Mrs. Riegrow!" The maid's voice came louder this time, firm enough to snap Selene out of her thoughts.
Selene turned sharply, her eyes cold.
The maid lowered her gaze immediately. "Your bath awaits."
Selene inhaled slowly, forcing herself not to lash out at the only person in the room who had not wronged her.
"Where is he?" she asked.
The maid blinked. "Who?"
Selene's expression answered for her.
"Oh." The maid straightened. "The master will not be back until morning. He said to tell you, should you ask."
A humourless laugh almost escaped Selene.
Of course. Even on their wedding night, Caesar did as he pleased.
The maid stepped forward carefully, reaching to help Selene out of her gown.
"I hope he never makes it back," Selene muttered under her breath.
The maid heard her.
But she said nothing. Whatever war existed between the master of the house and his new wife was not her concern. Servants who survived in houses like this learned early when to hear and when to pretend they had not.
Soon, two other maids joined her. They helped Selene bathe, changed her into nightwear, brushed out her hair, and left her once more in the suffocating silence of the room.
For a long time, Selene did not sleep.
She sat on the bed, staring at the door.
Waiting. Thinking. Planning.
Eventually, somewhere around midnight, the exhaustion had dragged her under.
The door opened.
A figure stepped into the room and closed it gently behind him.
He moved with the ease of a man entering a place he owned. His jacket slipped from his shoulders and fell carelessly to the floor. He did not bother lighting a lamp. The moonlight was enough, pale and cold across his face as he approached the bed.
Selene lay still, her breathing even.
Caesar climbed onto the bed beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight. His hand moved to her leg, trailing slowly upward.
Selene's eyes opened.
In one swift motion, she reached beneath her pillow and brought the small knife she had hidden there to his throat.
Caesar froze. Then he chuckled. "Ah!."
His hand paused where it was, his face only inches from hers.
Selene's eyes burned with rage. "What do you think you're doing?"
Caesar's mouth curved into a smirk. "Trying to get through the wedding night. What else?"
Selene pressed the blade closer. "I would rather die."
His smile did not fade. "That can be arranged."
Before she could pull back, Caesar moved Fast.
His hand closed around her wrist, twisting until the knife slipped from her grip. Selene gasped, but he had already turned her over and pinned her face-down against the bed, one hand trapping both of hers above her head.
The knife fell somewhere beside them with a dull sound.
Selene struggled violently beneath him. "Get off me!"
Caesar leaned close, his voice low and cruel against her ear. "Stay down, mutt."
The insult struck harder than his grip.
Selene thrashed again, furious and breathless, refusing to give him even a second of obedience. "I said get off me!"
But Caesar only tightened his hold, his eyes darkened with predatory intensity at her fury. He rolled her fully, pressing against her until their bodies were flush from chest to thigh.
"I want to claim you," he growled softly into her ear. "Mark every inch of that soft skin as mine."
Selene stiffened.
Every part of her recoiled from him. bHis closeness felt suffocating. His touch felt like a chain tightening around her throat. She turned her face away sharply, her stomach twisting with disgust.
"Fucking let go," she hissed. "Do not touch me."
But Caesar did not move.
It was as if her words had struck a wall and fallen uselessly to the ground. His hand remained where it was, firm and unyielding, while his eyes stared down at her with a cold emptiness that made her blood run cold.
There was no affection there. Only possession.
His hand slid under her fingers tracing patterns across her stomach before moving lower. They brushed teasingly over the damp fabric of her panties, feeling the heat and wetness still present there. His thumb found her clit through the cotton and began circling it slowly feeling her shiver in response.
Caesar's free hand moved to cup her breast through the thin material of her shirt, squeezing gently while his hips rocked subtly against hers. The hard ridge of his erection pressed insistently into her hip.
"I'll fuck you slow at first," he promised huskily. "Let you feel every inch of my cock stretching you open until you can't think straight."
His lips brushed against the shell of her ear as he continued describing his fantasies aloud.
"Then once I have you completely addicted to how good I feel inside you... I'll put a tiny version of me inside you and pound you until we're both screaming from pleasure."
Selene's chest rose and fell quickly as fear and rage tangled inside her. She hated him. Hated his voice. Hated his hands. Hated the way he looked at her as though she were something he had already won.
"Caesar," she said, her voice shaking now with weakness,
His expression did not change.
And in that moment, Selene understood that Caesar had not come to love her, nor even to be loved by her.
He had come to own.