Elena’s POV:
One thing was certain—this place was a fortress.
And escaping? Almost impossible.
I had tried, of course. Tested every lock, every window, every possible weak spot in security. But Ace wasn’t stupid. The periter was sealed tight, and the few guards who road the hallways weren’t just muscle—they were predators. Wolves. Each one watching like I was prey.
The sheer size of the estate was overwhelming. Every hallway, every door, every turn felt like it was built to keep people in rather than out. The windows were bulletproof, the gates guarded, and I was almost sure there were surveillance caras tracking my every move.
And Ace?
I had no fucking clue what was going on in his mind.
He wasn’t unkind—not in the way I expected. No beatings, no chains, no outright threats. But that almost made it worse. He was playing a different kind of ga—one I hadn’t figured out yet.
He was unpredictable. One mont, a ruthless captor. The next? Almost romantic.
Every day, without fail, he ca to see with a single red rose.
Every evening, he would put on music and request a dance.
Like clockwork.
Like a routine he refused to break.
At first, I resisted. Refused to take the rose, ignored his outstretched hand when he asked to dance.
But Ace was persistent.
He never got angry, never demanded. He just... waited.
Until one evening, when exhaustion and frustration finally got the better of , and I let him take my hand.
The music was slow. Soft. A haunting lody that whispered through the grand living space like a ghost.
Ace’s hand rested on my waist, the other holding mine in a firm but gentle grip. He moved smoothly, effortlessly, guiding across the polished marble floor as if we had done this a thousand tis before.
I didn’t want to admit it, but... he was good.
Too good.
"You’re tense," he murmured, eyes glinting with amusent as he twirled .
I rolled my eyes. "Gee, I wonder why."
He chuckled. "Still fighting , little pet?"
My jaw clenched. "I don’t belong to you."
Ace humd, tilting his head as if considering my words. "Perhaps not. But you’re here. And I take care of what’s mine."
I stiffened. "I’m not—"
But before I could finish, he dipped .
My breath hitched as his face hovered inches above mine, his grip firm against my lower back.
His voice was a low whisper. "You keep telling yourself that."
And then, just as easily, he pulled back up, steadying on my feet.
The mont the song ended, I yanked my hand away, stepping back as my heart pounded in my chest.
Ace smirked but said nothing.
Instead, he placed the rose in my hand, gave a knowing look, and walked away.
Leaving there, gripping the damn flower like it was a lifeline.
Days passed.
And with each passing day, my frustration grew.
Ace allowed to go anywhere inside the mansion—anywhere except outside.
The massive estate had everything: a luxurious library, a pool, a fully stocked kitchen, even a damn ballroom. But it wasn’t freedom.
It was a cage.
A beautiful, comfortable, golden cage.
And worst of all?
I was starting to adapt.
The dinners, the dances, the late-night conversations where Ace would sit across from , sipping whiskey and watching with those unreadable eyes.
I hated it.
Hated how easily he slipped into my space.
How he made captivity feel almost... tolerable.
And I hated that, deep down, a part of feared I was starting to let him in.
One night, after yet another dance, I finally snapped.
I yanked my hand from Ace’s grip and glared up at him. "What is this? Huh? So kind of twisted ga?"
Ace didn’t look surprised. If anything, he looked amused. "A ga?"
I gestured around us. "The roses, the dancing, the fancy dinners. You keeping locked up here like so prize. What do you even want from ?"
Ace’s expression shifted, his amusent fading ever so slightly.
Then, he took a slow step forward.
And another.
Until he was standing right in front of , close enough that I had to tilt my head to et his gaze.
"What do I want?" he echoed.
The air between us felt thick, charged with sothing dark and dangerous.
His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch deceptively soft.
"I want you to see," he murmured.
My breath hitched. "See what?"
His eyes darkened.
"The truth."
And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving standing there—confused, frustrated, and more afraid than I had ever been before.
Because deep down, I knew.
The real ga hadn’t even begun yet.
One mont, he was charming, taking to candlelit dinners, dancing with in empty ballrooms like so kind of twisted prince. The next, he was cold, watching like a predator, reminding with every calculated glance that I wasn’t here by choice.
He wanted sothing from .
And I didn’t know what.
But I knew this much—I had to get out.
The first ti I tried to escape, I aid for the most obvious route—the windows.
The room Ace had given was on the second floor, overlooking a well-manicured courtyard. Not ideal, but survivable if I tid the jump right.
Late at night, when the guards changed shifts, I stacked the pillows under the blankets to make it look like I was asleep, then quietly slid the window open. The night air was crisp, and my heart pounded as I swung one leg over the ledge.
"Almost there—"
A hand clamped around my wrist.
I gasped, snapping my head up to see Ace leaning against the fra, looking far too amused for my liking.
"Going sowhere?"
Shit.
I twisted, trying to yank my arm free, but he didn’t even flinch. "Damn, you’re persistent," he mused. "I thought you’d last at least a week before trying sothing stupid."
I kicked at him. He caught my ankle effortlessly.
"Let. . Go," I growled.
Ace sighed like I was an unruly child and hauled back inside with ease. Before I could protest, he tossed onto the bed, arms crossed over his broad chest.
"First of all," he said, leveling with an unimpressed stare, "you really thought I wouldn’t anticipate the window?"
I glared at him, chest heaving. "Well, clearly, I was hoping you’d be stupider."
He smirked. "Flattering. Second," he stepped closer, looming over , "if you ever try that again, I might just tie you to the bed. And while I’m sure there are worse ways to keep you in one place, I doubt you’d enjoy it."
I kicked at him again, but he dodged it, laughing.
"Go to sleep, little wolf," he said, turning toward the door. "You’re not leaving. Not yet."
Not yet?
The door clicked shut behind him.
I clenched my fists.
I hated him.
But worse?
He was winning.
I tried again three days later.
This ti, I targeted the guards.
They weren’t just naless brutes. They had personalities. Weaknesses. And one in particular—a younger one nad Luka—was far too chatty for his own good.
I spent the next day working on him, pretending to be curious about Ace, about the estate, about why they followed him so loyally. Luka ate it up.
By the second night, he was comfortable enough to let his guard down around .
"You know, it’s kinda funny," he said, leaning against the doorway. "Ace doesn’t usually keep... guests."
"Guests." Right. Because kidnapping people is so hospitable.
I batted my lashes. "Oh? So I’m special?"
Luka grinned. "I an, yeah. No one’s ever—"
I moved fast.
In a single motion, I grabbed the glass of wine from my nightstand and smashed it across his head.
He grunted, stumbling forward, and I bolted.
I made it down the hall before I heard the alarm blare.
Fuck.
Two guards turned the corner just as I reached the stairs. I slid under one of their arms, narrowly dodging his grab, but the second one was faster.
His arms wrapped around my waist, hoisting off the ground.
I scread, thrashing.
And then, suddenly—
"Put. Her. Down."
The voice was lethal.
Ace.
The guard imdiately obeyed, dropping like I was on fire. I stumbled, heart hamring, as Ace approached.
He didn’t look angry.
He looked... amused.
That was worse.
"Elena," he murmured, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. I slapped his hand away, but his smirk only widened.
"You’re bold," he mused. "I like that."
I clenched my jaw. "Yeah? Then you’re gonna love how much I plan on kicking your ass when I get out of here."
His smirk faded, and for a mont, sothing darker flickered in his expression.
"You really don’t get it, do you?" he murmured.
My stomach twisted. "Get what?"
Ace sighed, rubbing a hand down his face like he was exhausted.
"You’re not a prisoner, Elena," he finally said, voice too soft. "You’re being kept safe."
Safe?
I let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, yeah, being kidnapped, trapped in a mansion, and babysat by guards totally screams safe."
His expression hardened. "From Kane."
That shut up.
My heart stuttered.
"Kane," I echoed.
Ace held my gaze. "The mont you leave this place, he will find you. And when he does, I can’t guarantee what state he’ll be in. The darkness inside him isn’t just a rumor, Elena. It’s real."
I swallowed hard, pulse hamring.
I wanted to tell him he was full of shit. That he was the real monster, that Kane would never—
But I couldn’t.
Because deep down, I knew it was true.
I had seen it in Kane’s eyes.
The madness.
The rage.
And the mark on my neck—the one I never consented to—burned as if to remind of that fact.
Still, I wasn’t going to let Ace win this argunt.
"So what?" I snapped. "You’re so kind of hero? Saving the damsel in distress?"
His lips parted, but he hesitated.
Just for a second.
But that second was enough.
Because for the first ti...
He didn’t have a cocky remark.
He didn’t have a sharp, teasing coback.
Instead, he just looked at —like he was debating sothing.
And then, in a quiet voice, he said:
"I need you alive, Elena."
The words weren’t romantic. They weren’t sweet.
But they were real.
And that terrified more than anything else.
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