Elena woke to the soft glow of dawn spilling through the massive bedroom window.
The room was empty.
But the memory of last night lingered — Adrian's gaze on her, his words, the possessive way he claimed her without touching.
She shivered. Not entirely from cold.
A knock at the door startled her.
"Breakfast is ready," a soft voice said — one of the house staff.
Elena nodded and dressed quickly, choosing a modest outfit this time: a fitted blouse and pencil skirt. She didn't need the allure of the red gown to draw Adrian's attention. That had been done already.
Downstairs, Adrian was waiting in the kitchen, coffee in hand, tailored black suit impeccable even in casual morning light.
He didn't smile. He didn't greet her. He simply watched.
"You're late," he said, voice low, calm. But there was an edge that made her pulse spike.
"I'm not late," she said defensively.
He arched an eyebrow. "By ten minutes, you are."
Elena grit her teeth. She wasn't a child. She wasn't a subordinate.
"I have a life outside this mansion," she shot back.
His eyes darkened.
"You live in my house now," he said slowly. "Your life is… flexible."
She froze. The word made her stomach twist.
"I'm not a possession," she whispered.
A slow smile curved his lips — the kind that made her knees weak.
"No," he agreed. "You're not. But you are mine for the duration of that contract. And if you try to forget it…"
He stepped closer, closing the distance between them in two strides.
Her heart hammered. She could feel the heat radiating off his body.
"Then you'll remember," he finished, his voice low and commanding.
Elena swallowed hard. She wanted to step back, to flee… and yet, she stayed. Part of her wanted him to prove his claim, to test her boundaries. She hated herself for feeling that.
Adrian's hand brushed against hers — casual, yet possessive.
"Do you understand?" he asked, his face inches from hers.
"Yes," she breathed.
"Good."
He lingered, just far enough that she could smell the expensive cologne, just close enough to feel his dominance.
"You'll dress appropriately for dinner tonight," he said, finally stepping back.
Elena clenched her fists at her sides, struggling to maintain composure.
"I'm not just a doll in your house," she said through gritted teeth.
He tilted his head, his gray eyes glinting with amusement and something darker.
"No," he said softly, almost tenderly. "You're far more dangerous than that. That's why I like you."
Her pulse raced.
She wanted to hate him. She wanted to push him away. But she couldn't ignore the fire he had ignited in her — that dangerous, thrilling heat that left her trembling.
As he left the room, she leaned against the wall, breathless.
This wasn't just a contract marriage.
This was a war of wills.
And already… she felt herself losing.