Chapter Three

"Why did you stop me?" Sarah demanded, her voice trembling as she stared at the imposing figure blocking the doorway. The man's shadow seemed to stretch across the hallway, merging with the darkness that loomed ahead. 

His gaze was cold, unyielding. "Lord DeLuca doesn't take kindly to disobedience," he replied, his tone as emotionless as his expression. "You should return to your room."

Sarah's hands clenched into fists at her sides. Every fiber of her being screamed against the idea of retreating into that gilded prison, but the heavy silence in the corridor made it clear she had no choice. Resistance, in that moment, seemed futile. Yet, the fire of defiance still burned brightly within her, a flame that Adrian DeLuca hadn't yet extinguished.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" she shot back, her voice sharper than she intended. She knew her words were a desperate attempt to reclaim some semblance of control, but the man before her remained unfazed.

"My name is Marco," he replied, his voice steady, as if her defiance was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. "And I'm here to ensure you don't do anything foolish."

Sarah stared at him, her mind racing. This was the first time she had heard one of Adrian's men speak directly to her, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was a flicker of humanity behind those steely eyes. But that thought was quickly dismissed as Marco's expression hardened, his stance becoming more rigid.

"Go back inside," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I won't ask again."

For a moment, Sarah considered pushing past him, making a run for it, even if it meant getting caught. But the look in Marco's eyes—calm, resolute, and utterly unyielding—froze her in place. She knew that if she defied him now, the consequences would be far worse than just being escorted back to her room.

With a reluctant sigh, she turned around and stepped back into the room. The door closed behind her with a finality that sent a chill down her spine, sealing her fate once more.

The room was silent, but Sarah's thoughts were anything but tacit. She paced back and forth, her mind spinning with the events of the last few hours. How had her life turned into this nightmare? Trapped in a mansion with a man who saw her as nothing more than a pawn, a plaything to manipulate and control.

She thought of her father, his desperate face when he realized what his debts had cost. The memory stabbed at her heart, twisting it into knots of guilt and anger. She had done this to save him, to give him a chance at freedom, but in doing so, she had shackled herself to a life of fear and uncertainty.

But even as despair threatened to consume her, a new resolve began to take shape. Adrian DeLuca might have trapped her here, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her broken. She would find a way to survive this, to outlast him, and to protect the one person who mattered most.

The thought gave her a strange sense of calm, a momentary peace in the midst of the storm. She sat on the edge of the bed, her mind still whirling with possibilities when the door creaked open once more.

This time, it was Adrian who entered. His presence filled the room, his gaze immediately locking onto hers, intense and unreadable. He didn't speak at first, just stood there, watching her with that unnerving stillness that always set her on edge.

"Do you understand now?" he asked his voice low, almost a whisper. "Do you understand what happens when you try to defy me?"

Sarah's heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to back down. "I'm not a prisoner," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor she felt within. "I'm here because I chose to be. Don't forget that."

Adrian's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dark crossing his features. "You're here because you had no other choice," he corrected, his voice soft but laced with steel. "And as long as you're here, you'll follow my rules."

Sarah opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, he crossed the room in a few quick strides, closing the distance between them. His hand shot out, grabbing her chin and tilting her face up to meet his gaze. The touch was rough, but not painful, a reminder of the power he held over her.

"You're mine, Sarah," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "And you'd do well to remember that."

For a moment, neither of them moved, the tension between them palpable. Then, just as quickly, Adrian released her, stepping back with a cold smile. "Good night," he said, his voice like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.

He turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. But this time, the silence that followed wasn't empty. It was filled with the echo of his words, a reminder of the chains she had willingly wrapped around herself.

As Sarah sat alone in the dark, she felt something slip under the door—a small, folded note. With shaking hands, she opened it, her breath catching in her throat as she read the words:

You're not alone.