After the night in Ryder's study, Ava sank deeper into despair. She no longer felt she had any privacy or will of her own. He had invaded even the most hidden corners of her soul, exposing her vulnerability, and holding it in his steel grip. Life in the mansion continued in an endless cycle of isolation and submission.
Whenever Ryder appeared, the tension in the air escalated. He was no longer just a powerful CEO, but a dictator controlling her every breath. He no longer only cared about her body; he wanted to dominate her thoughts and emotions as well. He could appear at any time, anywhere in the mansion, just to observe her, to ensure she did nothing beyond his control.
One afternoon, Ava was embroidering in the living room—an activity she had started to pass the time and keep her mind from crumbling—when Ryder walked in. He said nothing, just stood there, silently watching her. Ava felt his gaze like an invisible weight pressing down on her. She tried to focus on the needle, but her hands trembled.
"What are you doing?" Ryder finally spoke, his voice flat.
"I... I'm embroidering a handkerchief," Ava replied, not daring to look up.
Ryder approached, his hand reaching out, snatching the embroidered cloth from her grasp. The unfinished handkerchief, with its half-stitched patterns, was immediately crushed in his hand.
"Pointless," he said, his voice contemptuous. "Do you think that's something a woman of mine should be doing?" He threw the handkerchief to the floor, trampling it with his polished shoe.
Ava watched the trampled cloth, her heart clenching. It was one of the few things she felt was still hers, a small connection to her simple life from before. Ryder didn't just want to control her body; he wanted to destroy even her smallest joys.
"You... you have no right!" Ava blurted out, her voice trembling with anger and pain.
Ryder turned, his eyes sharp as knives. "What did you say?"
"You have no right to destroy my things!" Ava repeated, though she knew she was inviting trouble. "You can own me, but you can't own my soul!"
Ryder stepped closer to her, grabbing her chin and squeezing tightly. "Do you think you have a soul, Ava? Ever since you signed that contract, you sold it to me." His eyes were cold, ruthless. "And I have the right to do whatever I want with what belongs to me."
He tightened his grip on her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. Ryder leaned down and kissed her violently, swallowing any lingering words of defiance in her mouth. It was a kiss full of anger and possession, a warning that she was not allowed to cross any boundaries. When he released her, her lips were swollen and burning.
"Don't forget your place," Ryder said softly, then turned and walked away, leaving Ava alone in the cold room, with the trampled handkerchief on the floor.
A few days later, an unexpected event shattered the mansion's silence. Hawkins entered the living room with a rare look of tension on his face.
"Miss, there's trouble," he said, his voice slightly hurried. "There's been an attack on one of Blackwood Corp.'s facilities. Mr. Ryder left early this morning and hasn't made contact since."
Ava's heart pounded. She had never seen Hawkins so worried. "Attack? What happened?"
"A group of terrorists infiltrated the company's secret research and development facility in the suburbs. It seems they wanted to steal new technology." Hawkins frowned. "Mr. Ryder went there personally to handle it. But several hours have passed, and we haven't been able to reach him."
A cold fear crept into Ava's heart. Although she hated Ryder, the thought of him being in danger made her strangely uneasy. She didn't want him to die, at least not yet. Lam An still needed him. And deep down, something in her didn't want him to disappear completely.
Hawkins ordered the bodyguards to increase security for the mansion, preparing for the worst-case scenario. The atmosphere in the mansion became intensely tense. Ava paced back and forth in her room, her heart burning. She tried to call Hawkins for more information, but he was constantly busy.
Evening fell. Darkness enveloped the mansion, pitch black and full of uncertainty. Ava sat alone in the living room, looking out the window. The sound of the wind whistling through the leaves, the rustle of branches against each other, all became terrifying. She imagined Ryder fighting, in danger. An indescribable sense of worry surged within her.
Around midnight, when Ava had almost given up hope, the sound of an ambulance siren and a car suddenly stopping at the gate shattered the silence. The entire mansion lit up. Ava rushed to the main hall. Hawkins and the bodyguards were already standing there, their faces filled with worry.
The door opened, and Ryder walked in. He wasn't wearing his usual neat suit. His white shirt was torn, stained with blood and dirt. His hair was disheveled, and a deep, bleeding cut ran across his temple. He looked tired, exhausted, but his eyes were still sharp and determined.
Ava froze, staring at Ryder. This was the first time she had seen him in such a vulnerable state. A strange feeling crept into her heart, not fear, but a shock, something akin to concern.
Hawkins rushed over. "Mr. Ryder! Are you alright? The doctor is waiting in the medical room."
Ryder waved his hand dismissively. "I'm fine." His voice was hoarse. He glanced at Ava, his eyes lingering on her face for a moment. There was an unreadable spark in his gaze, something very small, but Ava felt it. It wasn't possessiveness; it wasn't contempt. It was almost like recognition.
He walked past Ava, heading straight for the medical room. Ava remained standing there, watching his retreating back. He had returned safely. But the sight of him, covered in wounds and exhaustion, planted a new seed in her heart. Ryder Blackwood was not an invulnerable god. He was also a human being, capable of being hurt, capable of being in danger.