Ashley's POV:
The car ride continued—silent now, but the quiet was thicker, more suffocating than the struggle itself.
Each passing mile was a victory for Roman, and a slow, crushing death for Ashley. Her body felt foreign—an empty vessel slumped in the seat, bruised, trembling, cold.
She kept her gaze on the blur outside, clinging to the fleeting shapes of trees and headlights. It was a hopeless attempt to memorize what freedom looked like.
The leather pressed against her back was icy, biting into her bruises.
The world beyond the glass streamed past like ghosts of everything she'd lost—her father's laugh, the chaos of her room, the meaningless, precious normalcy of walking to school.
Compared to that, this present—the cold leather, Roman's steady presence beside her, the quiet hum of the engine—felt like a void made of nightmares.
Eventually, the car left the main road, tires crunching over gravel. The smell of pine thickened in the air.
Rain began to tap against the windshield—light at first, then heavier, steady, relentless.
They stopped before a large, imposing house built of dark wood and stone, half-swallowed by the forest.
It stood there like something alive, waiting. Watching.
Roman turned off the engine. The silence that followed was absolute—broken only by the whispering rain.
"We're finally home, sunbeam," he murmured, his voice now dangerously calm, infused with a possessive tenderness. "This house is quiet. Just for us."
He stepped out first, moving with that unnerving calm of his, and opened her door.
Ashley hesitated before unbuckling her seatbelt, her hands shaking.
When she slid out, the night air hit her like a slap—sharp, cold, biting. Roman's hand found the small of her back. The touch was light, almost tender, but it carried weight, control, and absolute ownership.
He guided her through the heavy oak doors. Inside, the air smelled of wax and cedar.
Everything gleamed—polished floors, leather, gold accents. It was beautiful in the way a crypt could be beautiful: grand, lifeless, perfectly silent.
"This is Mary," Roman said, gesturing to a woman in a crisp black uniform standing by the staircase. "She'll see to your comfort. You are free here, Ashley. You're my guest."
His voice softened into a disturbing counterfeit of care. "You can speak freely, move throughout the house, and do whatever you wish... There are only two rules: Loyalty and Obedience. Which means," his eyes darkened slightly, "you will not attempt to leave. Ever. Movement outside is permitted, but only with me or one of my men. I have eyes everywhere."
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms. Loyalty? Obedience?
The words were a fresh, agonizing insult. "Free?" she screamed, the sound echoing harshly in the expensive quiet of the hall.
She violently yanked her arm free from Roman's grip, stumbling back two steps. "You think I'm going to stand here and listen to your lunatic rules? I'm not staying! I'm leaving right now!"
Roman stated, his voice dangerously low, "You'll get used to it. For now, you should go and rest. We will talk later."
Ashley laughed—a short, broken sound of pure derision. "Talk later? This isn't a date, you psycho! You can try to dress this up with maids and mansions, but you're just a broken man who kidnapped a girl because you're too scared to find a real life!"
He moved with chilling speed. He didn't strike her, but he grabbed her arm and dragged her forcefully backward across the highly polished floor until her back hit the enormous, rain-streaked glass pane of a window overlooking the property.
The rain was now coming down in hard, drumming sheets, streaking the cold glass. Ashley gasped as the chill touched her spine, the glass feeling impossibly thin between her and the raging storm.
Roman pressed close, his body heat a suffocating barrier against the chill of the window. His breath was ragged, and his eyes, visible in the reflection, were deepening to black.
"Stop this now, sunbeam," he hissed, the possessive pet name a chilling paradox against his rage. "Don't test my patience. Don't waste my care. You have no idea what I am capable of."
His grip tightened, his knuckles white against her skin. He leaned in, his monstrous side a breath away from surfacing completely.
Just as his mouth opened to deliver the final threat, the soft, discreet chime of a phone cut through the tense silence. It was a digital, high-priority ringtone.
Roman froze. His jaw tightened, and the dark fire in his eyes was abruptly extinguished by a necessity outside of Ashley.
He released her so suddenly she stumbled against the glass.
He pulled a secure phone from his pocket. "Yes. Put him through." He finished the call in a minute, his back still to Ashley.
When he turned, the mask was back. He gestured curtly to the maid, Mary. "Mary, show our guest to her suite.
Ensure all her needs are met, including a change of clothes and a warm meal. If she refuses to cooperate, simply inform me."
With that, Roman left the room, disappearing down a distant hallway. Ashley, exhausted and defeated by the interruption, reluctantly allowed Mary to escort her upstairs.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
The digital glow of the bedside clock read 11:47 PM.
Roman re-entered the house through the main entrance, his overcoat shed, the scent of fresh air and rain clinging to his suit. He found Mary quietly tending to the library.
"Mary," he said, his voice quiet. "Has she eaten?"
Mary lowered her head slightly. "No, sir. Miss Ashley has refused all attempts to bring her food. She also broke the small ceramic vase by the east hall.
She has spent the entire evening shouting and demanding to leave. I regret to say, sir, only you will be able to persuade her to eat. She has been very difficult."
Roman's jaw tightened. He walked to the kitchen and returned moments later holding a silver tray with a covered plate.
The final trace of the "loving host" vanished. He was annoyed, tired, and profoundly disrespected.
He walked to Ashley's suite, the heavy tray balanced perfectly. He did not knock. He simply unlocked the door with a security card and strode inside.
Ashley was sitting rigidly on the edge of the silk-draped bed, staring at the closed door, her eyes blazing with defiance.
The moment she saw him, she sprang up.
"You!" she shouted, her voice raw from the day's screaming. "You came back? I told your little warden I won't eat your poisoned food! I am not your pet! I will starve myself until you realize you can't keep me here!"
Roman set the tray down on a low table, the silver clanging quietly.
He spoke with cold, controlled precision, his patience completely depleted. "That is not your decision to make, Ashley. You will sustain yourself. You will live. And you will obey. This is not a negotiation."
"It's a kidnapping, you psychopath!" she screamed back, tears of pure frustration and rage finally spilling down her cheeks. "You destroyed my father! You took my life! And you expect me to sit here and have dinner with the help like a grateful little princess?! You are truly insane!"
He was across the room in two strides, his hands slamming down onto the walls on either side of her head.
He didn't corner her by the window this time; he trapped her against the bookshelves, trapping her with the sheer force of his presence.
"You will never speak that name again!" he roared, his face an inch from hers, the dark monster finally unleashed by her cruelty and disobedience. "You are mine! You exist to be Loyal and Obedient! You think defiance makes you strong? It only makes me angry! I will find ways to make you obey that will break your mind before they break your body! Do you understand me now, Ashley? Do you finally understand your position?"
He didn't wait for her answer. His voice dropped to a cold, predatory whisper. "Now that you have angered me, it is time for your first punishment. I will ensure that the last flicker of your resistance is crushed."
Ashley's entire world swam in red fury.
She gathered what little moisture she had left, and with a primal, desperate effort, she spat directly at his face.
The moment the defiant glob hit his cheek, the terrifying rage from the earlier moment by the window returned tenfold.
Roman's eyes flashed, not with darkness, but with a chilling, electric fury. Ashley didn't scream.
She only managed one frantic, internal thought: I shouldn't have done that. I have broken him now. There is no coming back from this. The methodical destruction she feared was about to begin.
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Author's Note:
If you've made it this far, congratulations — you've survived the car ride, the silence, and Roman's charming version of hospitality. 🚗🌧️ Don't get too comfortable, though. Our dear sunbeam, Ashley, is about to learn that obedience means something very different in Roman's dictionary. 📖😈
Spoiler: it doesn't involve cookies or warm hugs. 🍪🚫
Roman calls it discipline. The rest of us would probably call it a psychological horror show with a tailored suit and good lighting. 💀🕯️
And yes… he's watching. 👁️ So feel free to comment, dear reader, but remember: curiosity comes with a price.😉
Buckle up — things are about to get beautifully, terribly worse.
- Vaanni🖤