*
Selene's heart pounded in her chest as Zenon's gaze pierced through her. The tension thickened with every second. The mention of a baby left her frozen — confused, shocked, and yet… strangely flustered.
She quickly masked her expression and glanced down at the contract again, her fingers trembling slightly. "You're insane," she muttered under her breath.
Zenon's smirk widened, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes. He leaned forward, closing the space between them, the chair creaking beneath him.
"Say that again, little flower," he whispered lowly, his breath warm against her cheek.
Selene gritted her teeth and stared back, unwilling to back down. "What kind of man brings up babies in the middle of a contract signing?"
"The kind who doesn't play games," he replied calmly. "You signed up to be my wife, Selene. Sooner or later, the world will expect more than just matching last names."
She scoffed, pushing the contract back toward him. "You mean your world."
He stood, walking behind her with slow, deliberate steps. The weight of his presence filled the room — silent, commanding.
His hand slid over her shoulder, firm but controlled, sending a sharp chill down her spine. He leaned in, his breath barely touching her skin.
"I control everything in my world…" his voice was deep, quiet, and final, "including you."
He straightened, turning away without another word, and dropped the file onto the desk. The sound echoed.
The silence that followed was louder than any argument.
—
*"Sign it, or you won't be having any kids in the next six months."*
His voice cut through the air — calm, low, but final.
He stood still, his back to her, broad shoulders rigid, eyes locked on the empty space ahead like he was wrestling something only he could see. Fear? Guilt? Regret? Whatever it was, it didn't soften him.
Selene stared at his back.
*"Maniac,"* she muttered under her breath, picking up the pen and signing with a swift flick. She dropped the pen with a small clink on the table and rose to her feet.
*"Done, Mr.—"*
She paused, catching his expression.
He wasn't moving. His face looked cold… hollow. He seemed lost, not in thought, but in something deeper — like the weight of his own words echoed louder in his head.
She rolled her eyes and stepped around the table until she stood in front of him. His gaze dropped the moment she appeared, sweeping over her petite frame, but not a word left his lips.
Selene folded her arms.
*"It's not like I care,"* she said, forcing indifference. *"Just making sure I didn't accidentally sign your spiritual death."*
With that, she turned toward the door.
---
"Don't come back tonight again," Zenon said low and cold, his hand already resting on the handle of the gun at his waist. "No matter how many times I call you. Do you understand?"
Selene froze, her throat suddenly dry and tight. Her eyes locked on his hand, trembling slightly as she realized just how serious he was. *Is he really going to do something crazy tonight?* she thought, fear creeping into her chest.
"Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Without another word, she turned and walked toward the door. The moment she slammed it shut behind her, the weight of the threat hung heavy in the air. She leaned against the door, trying to steady her breath as her heart pounded wildly.
Her footsteps echoed down the quiet hallway as she moved away from his study, but her mind stayed trapped in the tension of his warning.
Passing by the framed photos of Zenon—sharp suits, commanding stares, cold authority—anger flared inside her. *Threatening me with babies?* she thought bitterly. *Does he even know who I used to be?*
She reached her bedroom door and froze. On the chair lay black, dull lingerie—lacy, seductive, unmistakably his style. A shiver ran down her spine as she picked it up, running her fingers over the delicate fabric.
"He's scared," she whispered, a sly smirk tugging at her lips. "Scared I might tempt him tonight."
Her smirk widened as a spark of defiance lit in her eyes. "Hah, got you, Daddy."
But just as quickly, the smirk faded. Fear crept back in, colder and heavier than before. Her fingers curled tightly, nails digging into her palm as doubt gnawed at her.
*If I do meet him tonight… What would he do?*
She folded her fingers nervously, heart tightening. *Why do I want to see this man so badly tonight?* Her frustration boiled over as she hit her forehead lightly with her palm.
"Why? Why do I want to meet him so badly?"
Her voice was barely a growl, raw with emotion.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and tried to steel herself.
"Okay, Selene. No more good girl vibe," she whispered, "or you'll just rot here… a pawn, not a mother."
With one last look at the black lingerie, she turned toward the bathroom, determined but shaken, ready to face whatever night had in store.
---
Selene stood in front of the mirror, the moonlight spilling over her skin as she adjusted the delicate black lace bra and matching panties. It felt foreign—too revealing, too much skin, too many questions in her head.
"What is this?" she muttered, pulling the bra higher with slight irritation. "I've never worn anything like this before."
She let her hair fall down her back, trying not to overthink it.
"Great, Selene. Now you're a seductress," she scoffed at her reflection, rolling her eyes before walking out into the hallway.
The air was cold against her bare feet, her heart pounding as she passed door after door, lost in the maze of the estate's second floor. Ten minutes later, she stopped in front of a wide brown door. It wasn't locked.
She pushed it open slowly, wincing as the door creaked.
The scent hit her first—dark cologne and faint whiskey, warm and biting. The room was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through sheer curtains. Her eyes scanned the elegant chaos: scattered documents, a sleek gun resting on the nightstand, and then—him.
Zenon lay on the massive bed, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting across his chest. He wore a black silk robe that parted just enough to reveal his toned chest. His silver hair gleamed against the pillow, his features calm and unreadable, almost ethereal in sleep.
Her breath caught.
She tiptoed toward him, the plush carpet silencing her steps. Slowly, carefully, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at him. His chest rose and fell steadily, unfazed by her presence.
She leaned in slightly, waving a hand near his face.
Nothing.
She hesitated—curiosity overriding her fear—as her hand reached toward the pistol on the nightstand. Just as her fingers grazed the cold metal—
His hand shot out.
Strong. Swift. Wrapping around hers like a trap.
"Ahhh!" she screamed, startled, yanking her hand back instinctively.
Her heart thundered as she realized he was now wide awake—his amber eyes piercing into hers, sharp and aware. His grip didn't loosen.
"I-I wasn't going to shoot you!" she stammered, panicking. "I swear, I just... I don't know why I touched it—"
He moved suddenly, flipping her back against the bed with swift, fluid strength. Her hands pinned above her head. His body hovered close, too close—his breath brushing her cheek, his robe grazing her thigh.
"Let go of me!" she whispered, struggling.
He didn't. A smirk curled his lips, dark and slow. "Who told you a flower scented like lavender could walk through thorns and not get cut?"
Her body tensed beneath him, every nerve alight. She shivered as his teeth barely grazed the skin of her neck—teasing, almost tasting.
Oh god. Why do I want this man?
Her thoughts scattered as her body betrayed her fear. She shifted slightly—and the gun slipped from the nightstand.
BANG!
The gun went off as it hit the floor, shattering a glass lamp across the room.
Selene screamed, eyes shut tight, her entire body bracing for pain. But after a few long seconds, she opened her eyes to silence.
Zenon had already moved. He crouched near the floor, calmly picking up the gun and bullet, his face half-shadowed, cold.
"That's how things get messy," he said darkly, not looking at her, "when you touch things that don't belong to you."
When he finally turned, his gaze fell on her.
And for the first time, he really *saw* her—what she was wearing. What little she was wearing.
His eyes paused.
Her arms instinctively crossed her chest, her cheeks flaming with heat. But she didn't move. She met his stare with quiet defiance.
"What happens now?" she asked, trying to sound stronger than she felt.
Zenon stood, his posture commanding, one hand still gripping the weapon. He looked at her for a long moment, then finally spoke.
"What do you want?"
---
Selene stood frozen, her breath shallow, her hands clenched at her sides. The silence in the room grew heavier with every second after her whisper:
*"Make me a mom... tonight."*
Zenon didn't respond. His expression was unreadable, cold as marble. He leaned forward slowly, pressing his fingers into his forehead like her words had physically hit him.
*"Brave. Dumb. Weak. Foolish,"* he muttered darkly.
She winced.
*"I..."*
*"Get out."*
His voice dropped low—final, cutting.
But Selene didn't move.
She stood there, her bare feet rooted to the cold floor, staring at him in disbelief.
*"Then what about me?"*
Her voice cracked.
Zenon's eyes narrowed as he turned halfway to look at her.
*"What about you?"*
*"T-The part of the deal, Zenon. I make you earn your position. You give me a child. That was the agreement."*
He scoffed quietly, stepping closer.
*"Well, you haven't delivered, Selene. I haven't gained anything. So don't expect me to tie this up with a baby. Not yet. We have a long way to go."*
His tone dropped, hardening.
*"And you'd better hurry. The clock is ticking—six months, remember?"*
Her lips parted. The betrayal stung deeper than she expected. Her chest rose and fell fast, her eyes glassing over.
*"Wow,"* she whispered, nodding slowly as she looked away, blinking fast to keep the tears back.
*"This is what it looks like now."*
Zenon let out a bitter chuckle, one that didn't reach his eyes.
*"What did you expect, Selene? That I sleep with you and leave you with my child like some pathetic souvenir?"*
She raised her eyes to his.
*"Just do it. That's what I want."*
He ran a hand through his hair, tension knotting in his jaw. For a moment, he looked almost pained. Then his expression twisted into something darker as he stepped closer, gaze locked to hers.
*"You have no idea what you're asking for."*
*"I do,"* she said, firm but low.
*"You're nagging."* His voice rose slightly, sharp.
*"You're betraying,"* she shot back, chest heaving.
He stilled.
*"Because the moment I touch you, Selene..."*
He leaned in, his voice near a whisper.
*"You'll hate me."*
She blinked.
*"Why would I hate the man I—"* she stopped herself.
*"Because I don't stop."*
He said it like a warning.
*"I don't just touch. I possess. I ruin. I destroy. I'll make love to you every hour until you're breathless, begging me to stop. And I won't."*
His amber eyes burned into hers.
*"So I'm giving you a choice. Walk away. Tomorrow, I'll call the lawyers. We divorce. You leave, clean."*
Selene's world spun.
Divorce?
She had almost forgotten this was marriage—not a game, not a trap, but something she had signed for. Her chest ached. The word "divorce" felt like failure—but worse, it meant leaving without the one thing she came for.
She looked at him, lips trembling, voice shaking.
*"Then ruin me."*
She stepped forward, heart racing.
*"If that's what it takes. Ruin me."*
---