POV: Ella
Morning brought no relief. It only brought realization.
I woke as a ray of sunlight, far too bright for the eightieth floor, ruthlessly pierced my eyelids. My first thought was, "Where am I?" My second was the scent. Pine, cold metal, and something dangerously sweet. Kaiden.
I sat up abruptly, and the black silk of his shirt—the one he had dressed me in—slid down my thighs. The fabric was so weightless it felt like his hands were brushing against me. My heart skipped a beat instantly. I remembered every second of last night. The auction. My father's cold eyes. And the commanding voice of the man who bought my freedom for a billion dollars as if he were purchasing shares in a bankrupt firm.
I looked around. The bedroom was a masterpiece of minimalism. Glass walls offered a view of New York that looked like nothing more than a map spread out at my feet. There were no doors except for those leading to the bathroom and the dressing room. I was in the sky, severed from the rest of the world.
On the white marble nightstand sat breakfast: fresh berries, pastries, fragrant coffee, and a crystal glass of water. Beside it lay a thick folder and a small note.
"Your freedom cost a billion. Try to enjoy its price. Eat. The documents in the folder will tell you who you are now. — K.W."
The handwriting was perfect—sharp letters that cut confidently into the paper. I pushed the tray aside. Food wouldn't go down. My fingers trembled as I opened the folder.
The first thing I saw was my birth certificate. Beside it—my university degree, passport, even a medical record. Every document bore a blue stamp: "Property of Wolf Industries. Confidential." Kaiden Wolf hadn't just bought my debt. He had annulled me as an individual. I was now his asset.
I flipped through the pages until my eyes landed on the final sheet. It was a financial report on my father's status over the last five years. Every casino bet, every million lost. And the signature at the bottom: "Transferred in lieu of interest payments on loan #402."
I felt sick. My father had given me away for interest. Not for the principal debt, but for the interest.
I bolted from the bed, rage eclipsing fear. I had to get out of this room. Barefoot, in nothing but the shirt, I ran into the vast living area. The penthouse was empty and silent, yet I felt Kaiden's presence in every detail—in the heavy furniture, in the scent, in the very atmosphere of pressure.
My gaze locked onto the heavy doors at the end of the hallway. They were different from the others—dark wood, a massive handle. The office. I stepped closer, my heart thumping in my throat. I reached out, expecting them to be locked, but as soon as my fingers brushed the sensor panel, it beeped and glowed green.
Fingerprint confirmed. Welcome, Mrs. Wolf.
Mrs... what? A chill ran down my spine. He had entered my data into his home's security system before he had even brought me here.
I stepped inside. The office smelled of leather and cigars. The massive desk was in a state of perfect order. I began feverishly searching for anything that would give me leverage. I pulled out a drawer and froze.
There lay an old photo, hidden beneath some papers. The shot was taken twenty years ago. A young man, in whom I recognized Kaiden—those same sharp cheekbones and a gaze that pierced right through you. He stood next to a woman in a long summer dress.
I felt my legs go weak. The woman in the photo was almost my double. The same storm-sea eyes, the same jawline, even the mole above her lip. It wasn't my mother. My mother was a delicate blonde with brown eyes.
How did he know this woman? And why did I look so much like her?
"Curiosity is not a good trait for my guest, Ella."
I jumped so violently that the photo slipped from my hands. Kaiden stood in the doorway. He was wearing only grey sweatpants that sat low on his hips. His torso was bare, displaying sculpted muscles coated in a light sheen of sweat from a workout. Thin white scars marked his abdomen and shoulders—traces of a past that hadn't been written about in Forbes.
He walked slowly into the room, and every second of his approach made the air in the office hotter. I involuntarily backed away until I hit his desk.
"Who is this?" I pointed at the photo, struggling to keep my voice from shaking. "Why does she look like me?"
Kaiden came to a halt right in front of me. He was so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His gaze swept over me—from my disheveled hair to my bare legs. Something dark and primal flared in his eyes. A desire he didn't even try to hide.
"There are things you aren't ready to know yet," he leaned down and picked up the photo, tucking it back into the drawer. "But you're right about one thing. I didn't buy you for no reason."
"Did you buy a doll for your collection?" I straightened up, trying to regain a shred of dignity. "Do you want to take revenge on the woman in the photo through me?"
Kaiden laughed—a low, vibrating sound that made my nipples instantly harden under the thin silk of the shirt. He reached out and slowly ran his thumb over my lower lip.
"Dolls don't have that fire in their eyes," he whispered. "Your father... he gave you up too easily, Ella. Have you never wondered why? Why would a man who supposedly loves his daughter lose her in a poker game to a man the whole world fears?"
"He was desperate!" I cried out, though a black abyss of doubt was already widening inside me.
"No, Ella. Thomas Reynolds was never desperate. He just knew that you didn't belong to him. You were never part of his blood."
The words hit me harder than a physical blow. I shook my head, refusing to believe it.
"You're lying. This is just another game of yours to break me."
Kaiden stepped even closer, pinning me between himself and the desk. His hand dropped to my waist, pulling my body against his burning torso. I felt every muscle of his abs, every vein on his strong arms. My breath caught.
"I won't touch you until you ask me to yourself," his voice turned husky as he leaned into my ear, scorching my skin with his breath. "But I promise you, Ella—you'll ask before the sun sets behind that skyscraper. Because your body already knows the truth. It knows that you belong to me."
He pulled back, but only enough to look me in the eye. His fingers slowly fastened the top button of the shirt I had missed. The touch of his hot skin sent an electric charge through me to the tips of my fingers. I wanted to push him away, but my hands instead gripped his forearms, feeling the incredible power beneath the skin.
"You have three hours," he said, suddenly becoming cold and businesslike, though his eyes still burned with gold. "Get yourself ready. My stylist is already in the dressing room."
"Where are we going?" My voice sounded foreign.
"Dinner at the Vortex Club. You are to appear before my partners as my future wife."
"Wife?" I nearly choked on my indignation. "There was no mention of marriage in our agreement!"
"The agreement changed the second I signed a check for a billion," Kaiden walked toward the door but stopped. "And one more thing. There will be someone from your past at dinner tonight. Someone who knows the truth about your 'father.' Don't believe a word they say. Listen only to me."
He left, leaving me in the silence of the office, which still smelled of him.
I returned to the bedroom, where a stylist—a silent woman with a professional gaze—was already waiting. A dress hung on a mannequin. The same one, dark red, the color of ripe cherries or dried blood. It was daring, with an open back and a slit reaching all the way up to the thigh.
Beside it, in a velvet box, lay a necklace. Black diamonds that shimmered in the lamp light like the eyes of a predator.
When I was finally ready, Kaiden entered the room. He was already in a tuxedo, perfectly tailored to his frame. He silently walked up behind me, looking at our reflection in the mirror.
He took the necklace and slowly draped it around my neck. The cold metal stung my skin. As he fastened the clasp, his fingers lingered on the nape of my neck. He leaned down and left a light, almost weightless kiss on my shoulder.
I shuddered. It wasn't the touch of a tyrant. It was the touch of an owner who adores his prize. My knees treacherously buckled.
"You look incredible, Ella," he whispered into my neck. "But remember: tonight, you are playing a role. You belong to me. Before all these people, before the whole world—you are mine. Try to at least pretend you enjoy it."
We headed for the elevator. As the doors closed, Kaiden took out his phone. A message arrived that made his jaw clench.
"What happened?" I asked, feeling a new wave of anxiety.
He looked at me, and in his eyes, I saw not passion, but cold steel.
"Your father... he just tried to flee the country with the money I gave him. My men intercepted him."
"What will you do to him?" I grabbed his arm.
Kaiden smiled, and that smile was more frightening than any anger.
"That will depend on how you behave tonight. Don't fail me, Ella. For him, it's a matter of life and death. And for you... it's the beginning of the truth you're so afraid to hear."
The elevator doors opened in the underground garage, where a motorcade awaited. My old world was vanishing in the rearview mirror, and ahead lay a night full of secrets that could destroy everything I knew about myself.