Patricia stood frozen, her lips parted, but no words ca out. His tone, cold and emotionless, was more chilling than serious, and his eyes held no trace of doubt. He ant every word. The man before her felt like a stranger. Why was he acting so possessive, so unrelenting, when he didn’t even want her? Did he have a split personality or had he simply forgotten his own words?
"You made it clear where your heart belongs," she finally managed, voice trembling but defiant. "Why do you think it’s fair for to stand by and watch you play the doting lover while I pretend to be the loyal wife?" Her glare bore into him. Anyone watching would have thought he cared but she knew better. This wasn’t love. It was *control.*
"You agreed to be my second wife from the beginning," he replied coldly, his eyes narrowing. "Or do I need witnesses to remind you of that?" The way he stared into her, like he could see every crack in her soul, made her pulse quicken.
"I agreed to be your second wife, not a loyal one," she shot back, her voice rising. "If you can have soone else, so can I. And don’t forget, we agreed on a deal. One month left, Roman. You don’t get to change that now."
A slow, dark smirk spread across his face. Sothing shifted in his gaze, sothing far more sinister.
"Your family gave you to like a discarded trinket," he said coldly. "From that mont, your life was mine. If I don’t release you, Patricia, you are not going anywhere. You are a vessel for my heir and I am beginning to think that’s not such a bad idea after all."
His words cut deeper than any knife. A single tear slipped down her cheek before she turned her face away, ashad it had fallen in front of him.
"You are even more of a bastard than I thought," she whispered bitterly. Then she lifted her chin. "If you won’t give the divorce papers after I uphold our deal, I will disappear. I will vanish from your life like I never existed."
She thought her words might shake him, force so reason into him. But instead, he leaned in, deadly calm.
"I will hunt you down, no matter where you go. You will never escape , Patricia. Not unless I say so. You forced your way into my world but you don’t get to choose when to walk out."
Her skin crawled. A chill spread over her body as goosebumps rose across her arms. His words didn’t sound like a threat, they sounded like a promise. And for the first ti, she truly believed he ant it. Also, the way he called her na...it felt personal.
"Why?" She whispered, barely audible.
Roman leaned closer, his breath brushing her lips, now just an inch from hers. "Like I said..." His voice dropped lower. "You are mine."
Sothing broke in her.
Patricia lowered her head, her body still, silent. A few more tears escaped her eyes, slipping down her cheeks as her strength faded into stillness.
"If you won’t let go..." she whispered, "then I will let myself go."
There was sothing in her voice, soft, final, and heavy with unspoken weight. Roman’s expression shifted, the words registering slowly. His grip on her wrist loosened. Her eyes, once defiant, looked hollow now. She seed... lost. Fragile.
Sothing stirred inside him, sharp, unwelco guilt. For the first ti, he saw the damage he had done reflected back in her silence. And he hated himself for it.
This was the very reason he had been avoiding her because he feared losing control around her. He hated that she brought out a side of him he thought had long vanished. He didn’t understand why he cared, especially when it ca to her. It wasn’t love, he was sure of that but there was sothing about her that pulled him in, sothing he couldn’t ignore.
Avoiding her was hard. Talking to her was even harder. Every conversation seed to end in conflict, yet this ti, he couldn’t walk away. What infuriated him more was how she refused to listen to him about Syres. He knew that man was up to no good. Roman understood exactly why Syres kept hanging around Patricia, and the more she got involved, the deeper she would sink into dangerous waters that were never ant for her.
"Stay away from Syres," he said one final ti before releasing her wrist and walking out of the kitchen.
Once he was gone, Patricia’s shoulders slumped, and she fought back the sting of tears. She couldn’t believe she had escaped one prison only to end up in another. But no matter what, she was going to get those divorce papers. Just one more month and she would finally be free.
....
Later that night, unable to sleep, Patricia stepped into the garden to clear her mind. The air was cool, and the silence wrapped around her like a heavy blanket. She gazed up at the sky, longing for the freedom the stars seed to have. If only she were one of them, free, untouchable, shining with no one to dim her light.
Snap.
She flinched at the sudden sound, instantly shrinking into herself. Her head whipped toward the noise, and a tall figure approached from the shadows. She was about to bolt until she saw who it was.
Without a word, she rose and took a step in the opposite direction, but his voice stopped her.
"Wait."
"I am feeling tired," she said, keeping her back to him. "And it’s cold. I would like to go in for the night."
But he didn’t let her go. "Stay... just a little longer," he said, his tone quieter now, almost pleading.
She sighed and, after a brief hesitation, returned to the bench and sat down. He followed and took a seat beside her.
"I won’t go back on our deal," he said suddenly. "You will get your divorce papers once you find an investor."
She turned to face him slowly, searching his features for any trace of deceit. The garden lights, though dim, were enough to reveal the sincerity in his expression.
"You an it?" She asked, voice soft.
"Yes," he replied. "I went too far earlier... but I am not sorry for warning you about Syres. He’s toying with you."
She didn’t respond, just stared at him, trying to figure out the storm inside him.
"There’s sothing on your head," she said, noticing a small leaf tangled in his hair. He reached up to remove it, but after two failed attempts, she leaned closer and gently picked it off.
Their eyes t as she lowered her hand. His gaze, intense, cold, but strangely magnetic held hers captive. There was sothing in the way he looked at her, a silent pull that made her forget to breathe. Those eyes were speaking, calling to her in ways words never could.
Her eyes dropped, almost involuntarily, to his lips. She swallowed hard, her mind briefly wondering what they would feel like, soft, warm... dangerous.
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