Chapter 4: The Devil’s Rules
A Night of Shadows
Celeste lay awake in the massive bed, her mind a storm of thoughts. The silence of the Moreau estate was suffocating, pressing down on her like an invisible weight. The golden cage she had been forced into gleamed with wealth and luxury, but its bars were unbreakable.
Vincent's words from earlier echoed in her head.
"If you ever try to run from me, Celeste… I will find you."
Her fists clenched beneath the sheets.
She despised him.
But hatred alone wouldn't be enough to free her.
As the clock struck midnight, she pushed back the covers and slipped out of bed. The cold marble floor sent a shiver through her bare feet, but she ignored it. If she wanted to survive here, she needed to understand her enemy.
Vincent Moreau was a man of secrets.
And secrets could be weapons.
She moved toward the large mahogany doors, pressing her ear against them. Silence.
Carefully, she turned the handle and peeked into the dimly lit hallway. The estate was eerily quiet, the only light coming from ornate sconces casting long shadows across the walls.
She stepped out, her heart pounding.
She didn't have a clear plan—only an instinct screaming at her to know more.
Who really was Vincent Moreau?
What was he hiding beneath the perfectly tailored suits and cold, calculating stares?
She moved quickly, her bare feet making no sound against the polished floors.
The house was vast, a labyrinth of corridors and towering doors. She passed several locked rooms, libraries filled with books in foreign languages, and what looked like a private art gallery.
Then, she saw it.
A door at the far end of the hallway, slightly ajar.
A faint glow spilled from within.
Her pulse quickened as she stepped forward, carefully pushing it open.
Inside, the walls were lined with security monitors.
Dozens of screens displayed different parts of the estate—corridors, gardens, offices… even her bedroom.
Her breath caught in her throat.
He had been watching her.
Her stomach twisted, rage bubbling beneath her skin. How far did his control go?
She scanned the monitors, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of something unusual.
A hidden underground entrance.
It was on the far edge of the estate, partially obscured by shadows, but clearly a secured access point.
What the hell is down there?
Before she could study it further, a low voice cut through the silence.
"I was wondering when you'd start snooping."
Celeste whirled around, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Vincent stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.
He was dressed in black slacks and a partially unbuttoned dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up. He looked untouched by sleep, as if he had been expecting this.
Her throat tightened.
Damn it.
He took a slow step inside, his presence swallowing the air in the room.
"I should be furious," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "But I can't say I'm surprised."
Celeste forced herself to stand tall. "If you didn't want me finding this, you shouldn't have left the door open."
Vincent smirked. "Ah, but that's the question, isn't it?" He took another step forward, closing the distance between them. "Did I leave it open by accident… or did I want you to find it?"
Her blood ran cold.
This was a trap.
She had walked right into it.
Vincent reached past her, shutting off the monitors one by one. "You're clever, Celeste. I like that about you."
She swallowed hard. "Is that why you're watching me?"
He leaned in slightly, his voice a quiet warning. "I watch everything I own."
She hated the way his presence affected her, the way his words coiled around her like chains.
"I'm not a possession," she said, glaring up at him.
Vincent studied her for a long moment before chuckling. "Oh, Celeste…" He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his touch deceptively gentle. "You're mine in every way that matters."
Her stomach twisted.
He wasn't just playing a game. He was setting the rules.
And she was trapped inside them.
---
The Morning After – A New Prison
The next morning, Celeste was not allowed to leave her room.
The guards outside her door made that clear.
She paced angrily, her mind racing.
Vincent was sending her a message—one she understood loud and clear. There were no secrets in this house. No privacy. No freedom.
She was his wife, but she was also his prisoner.
A knock at the door made her pause.
Elena entered, holding a garment bag. "Mr. Moreau has requested that you accompany him tonight."
Celeste frowned. "To where?"
Elena hesitated. "A business gathering."
Celeste's stomach tightened. Moreau business.
"Tell him I'm not going," she said flatly.
Elena paled. "Mrs. Moreau, that's not an option."
Celeste exhaled sharply. Of course it wasn't.
She glanced at the dress Elena carried—a sleek, backless gown in deep crimson red.
Blood red.
A warning as much as it was a statement.
She clenched her fists.
Fine. If Vincent wanted her at his side, she would go.
But she wouldn't be silent.
If he thought he could break her, he was gravely mistaken.
---
The Gathering – A World of Sin
That evening, Celeste stood at Vincent's side, her arm in his as they arrived at a private estate overlooking the city.
The gathering was lavish, filled with men in tailored suits and women in diamonds that gleamed under golden chandeliers.
But there was something sinister beneath the luxury.
The way people whispered behind their glasses of champagne. The veiled threats hidden beneath polite conversation.
This wasn't just a business event.
It was a meeting of criminals.
Celeste's spine stiffened as she recognized some of the faces—arms dealers, politicians, underworld bosses.
She turned to Vincent. "What the hell is this?"
Vincent smirked, leading her deeper into the room. "Welcome to the real world, Celeste."
Her breath caught as she realized—this wasn't just about power.
This was about control. About the rules of the underworld.
And Vincent Moreau?
He was one of its kings.
As the evening progressed, Celeste met one dangerous figure after another.
Men who owned the city in ways that law enforcement never could. Women who pulled the strings behind powerful families.
And at the center of it all was Vincent Moreau—calm, untouchable, completely in control.
Celeste realized then that her battle wasn't just with Vincent.
It was with this entire world.
And if she wanted to escape?
She wouldn't just have to defy Vincent.
She would have to destroy him.
Her gaze flickered to the hidden gun beneath one man's jacket.
To the sharp edge of a knife resting on a table.
Vincent had built his empire through blood and power.
Maybe it was time to burn it all down.
---
End of Chapter 4.