Not A Bluff

The morning light filtered through the massive glass windows of Killian’s penthouse, casting long shadows across the sleek marble floors. The atmosphere was eerily silent, save for the occasional distant hum of the city below. Ramona sat curled up on the large bed, still dressed in the same tattered clothes from the night before, her body tense with defiance.

She hadn’t slept—not really. Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel the phantom sensation of the chase from the night before, the raw terror of being hunted through the woods. Now, she was trapped in Killian’s world, in his den, and she hated it.

The door creaked open, and her entire body stiffened as Killian stepped inside. He carried a tray in one hand and a neatly folded pile of clothes in the other. He moved with an effortless grace, every motion calculated and deliberate.

His sharp golden eyes locked onto her, assessing her with a mix of amusement and something darker. “I figured you’d be hungry.” His voice was smooth, almost too calm.

Ramona didn’t reply. She just glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Killian sighed, setting the tray down on a nearby table. The scent of fresh bread, eggs, and coffee filled the air, but Ramona refused to acknowledge it. Instead, her eyes flickered to the clothes in his other hand.

“I had these brought in for you,” he said, placing them on the bed beside her. “You can’t keep wearing those torn-up rags.”

She stared at the neatly folded fabric—soft-looking black pants, a simple fitted shirt, and undergarments. Normal clothes. A mockery of the freedom she didn’t have.

“Eat. Change.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Ramona scoffed, shaking her head. “Are you seriously pretending like this is normal?”

Killian arched a brow. “You’d prefer I leave you in bloody clothes and starve you?”

“I’d prefer you let me go.” Her voice was sharp, her brown eyes blazing with fury.

Killian exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We’ve been through this already.”

Ramona swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing to face him. “And I’ll keep saying it until you listen. Let. Me. Go.”

Killian’s jaw tightened. “You’re testing my patience, Dove.”

Her heart clenched at the way he said it—Dove, like some pet name laced with amusement and possession.

“I don’t care,” she spat. “You have no right to keep me here.”

Killian moved in an instant, closing the distance between them with frightening speed. Before she could react, his hand wrapped around her chin, forcing her to meet his piercing gaze.

“You still don’t understand, do you?” His voice was low, almost taunting. “You’re mine now. And I don’t take kindly to things that are mine trying to leave.”

Ramona’s breath hitched, but she refused to back down. “You can’t keep me locked up forever.”

Killian’s lips curled into something dangerous. “No, I can’t. But I can make sure you never leave.”

With one fluid motion, he reached behind his back and pulled out a sleek black gun, pressing the cold barrel against her temple.

“If I have to let you go, Dove,” he murmured, his tone disturbingly soft, “I’d have to kill you.”

The room turned ice-cold. Ramona’s pulse pounded against her ribs, her entire body frozen in place. She knew Killian was dangerous, but this? This was something else entirely.

He wasn’t bluffing.

His finger rested lightly on the trigger, his expression unreadable. He was daring her, waiting to see how she’d react.

Ramona swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. “You wouldn’t.”

Killian leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. “Try me.”

A long silence stretched between them, thick with tension. The gun remained pressed against her head, but Ramona refused to look away.

Then, in a slow, deliberate motion, Killian lowered the weapon. He let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head.

“You’ve got fire,” he admitted. “But don’t push me, Ramona.”

Her knees felt weak, but she kept standing. Kept glaring.

Killian took a step back, sliding the gun back into his holster. “Change into the damn clothes. Eat.” His voice was back to its usual calm, but the edge was still there. “I won’t tell you again.”

With that, he turned and walked toward the door, pausing just before he left.

“And Ramona?” His golden eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Don’t make me repeat myself next time.”

The door shut behind him, leaving her standing there, shaken and furious.