Ashley's POV:
The car sped through the dark, the silence broken only by the engine's low growl and Ashley's ragged, uneven breaths.
"What am I supposed to say?" she choked out, her voice raw. "When we get inside—what excuse do I give? They're going to look at my neck."
Roman didn't glance her way. His eyes stayed fixed on the road. "Figure it out, Ashley. You were smart enough to dig up my entire life history."
Silence fell again, heavy and suffocating.
"You're making my life a joke," she whispered, her anger collapsing into heartbreak. "You're turning my childhood into something I'll never escape. Why are you doing this to me?"
Roman eased the car to the curb, two blocks before their house. He cut the engine and turned toward her.
Without a word, he reached across, unfastened her seatbelt, and lifted her onto his lap before she could resist. Ashley went rigid, but his grip was steady, almost gentle.
"Shhh," he murmured, voice low and calm. "Listen."
He tilted her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes—usually glacial—burned with something darker, more human. Pain.
"I didn't have a childhood," he said quietly. "I grew up in darkness. Everything in my life was calculated."
He paused, the weight of memory pressing between them.
"My family was murdered in front of me when I was a kid. All of them—except my little sister."
His voice roughened. "The people who took them made me their weapon. Every order I followed, every life I destroyed, it was all under threat that they'd take her too. Years of that. I finally got her out. I'm free now... but it cost me everything."
Roman's eyes locked onto hers, fierce and unwavering. "I've never had anything that was mine by right. Except you. I will have you, Ashley—by love or by force. But I do want to make this work. I swear I'll try to be good. Just... give us a chance. Let me show you what it means to be the one thing that belongs to me."
Ashley's breath trembled. His confession sank in like poison disguised as truth. Somewhere in her chest, pity fought against fear—and lost.
With a shaky exhale, she wrapped her arms around him, surrender disguised as compassion.
"Okay," she whispered into his hoodie. "Okay, Roman. We can try."
He held her close, a dark, satisfied calm settling over him. The kind that only comes when victory feels like love.
When he started the car again, his tone had returned to command. "You need to adjust your attitude," he said evenly. "We're performing."
He parked outside her house, stepped out, and opened her door with practiced charm. She took his hand—their silent pact renewed.
Inside, her mother appeared from the kitchen, relief spilling into her voice.
"Oh, you two are back! Mia called earlier—she said she was confused why you left. You texted that Daniel picked you up, remember? We wondered why he left so soon!"
"Mia finished her part of the project early," Ashley replied, forcing a cheerful tone. "She's a total machine. Roman was nearby, so he offered to drive me home."
Her mom smiled warmly. "That's so thoughtful of you, Roman. Ashley, are you okay? You look a little flushed."
Ashley forced herself to meet her mother's eyes. "Just tired, Mom. I'm gonna put my bag away."
She took one careful step toward the hallway, but her mom's voice froze her mid-stride.
"Ashley... what's that on your neck?"
Her stomach dropped.
Roman didn't blink. His face was pure composure.
"Oh, that?" Ashley stammered, clinging to the lie they'd rehearsed. "It's nothing! Mia and I were being stupid after we finished working. Truth or dare. I lost. She got a little... competitive."
Roman chuckled softly, the picture of ease. "Teenagers," he said to her mom, shrugging with effortless charm.
Her mother smiled uncertainly, the moment dissolving. Ashley exhaled, her pulse still hammering.
Then, in a voice meant only for her, Roman whispered—low, calm, absolute:
"And sunbeam... the terms of the lesson still stand. You will not cover your neck. Not even at school."
Ashley's breath hitched. The fragile peace they'd built in the car shattered. The illusion of choice vanished.
The mark of his ownership was final.
He had won.
______________________________________________________________________
Author's Note:
So yeah... Roman's definitely not getting any "Boyfriend of the Year" awards, unless there's a category for emotionally manipulative men who monologue like tragic villains. 💀
Ashley? She deserves therapy, a vacation, and maybe an exorcism.
This chapter was basically trauma, lies, and light domestic terrorism with a sprinkle of "I can fix him (no I can't, help)."
Anyway, thanks for reading, my emotionally stable gremlins! 💋
Drink some water, don't date Romans, and remember—if someone calls you sunbeam while simultaneously ruining your life... run faster.
— Vaanni 🖤