Cecelia's POV
Every night seemed more dangerous than the last. Not because of the mansion or because of the people who watched me with quiet hatred in their eyes.
But because of him.
The first time he touched me, it had felt like survival… like something I needed just to stay alive in a world that wanted to swallow me whole.
And now? It felt like something else entirely. Something I didn't understand.
"Stop looking at me like that." He said, his voice low and rough, cutting through the quiet of the room.
I froze where I stood.
"I'm not," I said softly.
A lie.
His eyes narrowed slightly from where he leaned against the edge of his desk, sleeves rolled up, tension sitting in every line of his body like it had nowhere to go.
"You are," he replied.
My breath caught in my throat. Because he wasn't wrong.
There was something about the way he carried himself… calm, controlled, but dangerous, like every part of him was always aware of everything.
Somehow, that made it impossible for me not to look. Or feel whatever it was that I feel whenever we were together. And that was the problem.
"You shouldn't come up here by yourself if you're just going to stare," he added, his tone quieter now, but heavier.
"I didn't come here for that."
"Then why did you come?"
The question lingered between us. I didn't have an answer. Or maybe I did… I just didn't want to say it out loud.
Because saying it would make it real. And nothing about this… about him… felt safe enough to be real.
"I don't know," I admitted finally.
Something shifted in his expression.
He pushed off the desk and walked toward me slowly, each step deliberate, measured. Like he was giving me time to step back.
I didn't.
He stopped just inches away, close enough that I could feel the heat of him, the quiet tension in the air snapping tight between us.
"You should," he said quietly.
My heart was beating too fast.
"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Because even though you are mine, I don't like not knowing what you want."
I swallowed hard. "And what if I truly don't know?"
His gaze dropped briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes, something quite dark hanging beneath the surface.
"Then I decide for you."
My breath hitched. That should have scared me. It did probably, but not enough to make me show disinterest.
His hand lifted slowly, brushing slightly against my arm… not in a possessive way, but enough to send a sharp, electric shiver through me.
Every time he touched me, it was like this. A sudden burst of electricity throughout my entire body, and then he withdraws, as if a plug pulled. Like he was holding something back.
He acted sometimes like taking more would cost him something he wasn't willing to lose yet. And I couldn't understand why.
I was his no doubt… offered myself willingly even, but still, he wouldn't take me. Somehow, it was relaxing and frustrating at the same time.
"Marcus…" I started, but the words died in my throat.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"Don't," he said under his breath, almost like a warning to himself more than to me.
For a moment, I thought he would step back, create distance and regain control like he always did. But he didn't.
Instead, his hand slid to my waist, pulling me just close enough to dim the line between restraint and something far more dangerous.
"Do you have any idea," he murmured, his voice rough now, "how much self-control this takes?"
My breath faltered.
"No," I admitted.
A faint, humorless laugh left him.
"Good." He said with a strange finality.
He dismissed me back to my room that night after a few sexual tensions between us. Still, he'd let my dignity remained intact.
***
The next morning, the mansion felt different. More quiet than usual. But not in a peaceful way.
I noticed it immediately. The way conversations stopped almost as soon as I entered a room.
The way people avoided meeting my eyes or stared too long when they thought I wouldn't notice.
Something had definitely changed.
"Someone's missing," I heard a voice behind me.
I turned slightly to find River, Marcus' right hand man standing a few feet away, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp… always observing everything and everyone.
Regardless of his creepy looks, River was the only one who didn't look at me like I was a mistake.
"What? Who?" I asked innocently.
"Just one of the guards. And a maid this morning.
"What happened?" I asked carefully.
River studied me for a moment before answering.
"People who speak carelessly," he said, his tone normal, "sometimes forget where they are."
A chill ran down my spine.
"You mean, they're not just… missing?" I pressed.
He didn't respond immediately. But he didn't need to. The silence told me enough.
Then, glancing across the gradually familiar faces of workers moving about in the place, two faces were truly missing.
Oh my God.
My stomach tightened. "This is because of me, right?"
River's gaze didn't soften, but it didn't harden either.
"This is because of Marcus," he corrected.
That didn't make it better. If anything… it made it worse.
"And they hate me more now," I said quietly.
River exhaled slowly, glancing around the hall before looking back at me.
"They already decided what you are from the moment you walked in here," he said. "This just gave them a reason to justify it."
"And you?" I asked before I could stop myself. "What do you think I am?"
For a moment, something unreadable passed through River's eyes. Then…
"I think," River said calmly, "you're the only person in this house he hasn't broken… yet."
The words settled heavily in my chest. I didn't know if that was a good thing or some sort of warning.
But from across the dining hall, I felt the weight of all their hate more now. Then instantly, their focus changed, and I realized there was another presence there… stronger.
I didn't need to turn to know Marcus was there. And suddenly, the mansion didn't feel like a place I was trapped in.
It felt like something else entirely. A cage built around me, not to keep me in, but to keep everyone else out.
And that was far more scary to me after waking up to two of the people who had been rude or cruel to me being missing.
River's POV
I hardly missed things. That was one of the reasons why Marcus kept me close. That was why I was still alive.
And lately… I've been noticing her. At first, Cecelia was just another trophy for the Alpha to enjoy… not even bothering himself seeking it.
She was definitely the kind of girl who could wander into a storm without understanding what it would cost her, as she'd show when she walked straight into the syndicate seeking protection.
I'd seen many like her in my time near Marcus. And none of them lasted. But this one seemed different.
That was the first thing that caught my attention. The second was Marcus. I knew my Alpha never lingered or hesitated with anyone.
Yet, he appeared to be doing with her… Even when he pretended not to. When he was across the room, away from her engaged in something else entirely, his attention always circled back to her like a natural instinct.
That alone was enough to make her different… and dangerous. But that wasn't what unsettled me most.
She was surprisingly nice and kind, the way she thanked the staff who honestly, didn't deserve it, showed a great deal of the kind of person she was.
And there was the matter of her beauty. When she first arrived, I hadn't seen it at first. Or I simply didn't looked hard. But now I could see it as clear as day… as well as why Marcus seemed fixed on her.
The way she looked still… untouched by this place, despite everything it's already tried to turn her into. Kindness like that didn't survive here.
It gets crushed or twisted instead. Yet somehow, she still had it. And watching her carefully now, something was starting to shift in me.
And I realized suddenly… that she didn't belong here. Not with people like us.