Elena woke to sunlight slipping through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the mansion, soft rays illuminating the enormous room she now called hers. The bed beside her was empty—but the memory of Victor Hale's presence lingered like fire against her skin.
She sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, heart still pounding from the previous night's encounter. The way he had boxed her in, the way his gaze had burned through her… she had never felt anything like it. And she didn't like how much she had noticed it.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the quiet click of the bedroom door opening.
Victor stood there, fully dressed, his dark hair still slightly tousled. His eyes swept over her, sharp, assessing, and completely unreadable.
"Good morning," he said, voice calm, almost casual.
"Morning," Elena replied cautiously, trying to steady her racing heart.
Victor stepped further inside, closing the door behind him. He didn't sit. He didn't smile. He simply watched her, waiting.
"I assume you slept well," he said finally, his tone even, but with an undercurrent that made her skin prickle.
"I… slept," she admitted, her voice small.
"That's good." He moved closer, stopping just short of her bed. "Now, let's discuss boundaries."
Elena stiffened. "Boundaries?"
"Yes," he said, dark eyes fixed on hers. "You're here under my roof, following my rules. That doesn't change when the lights are on."
She swallowed. "I know the rules, Victor."
"Do you?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "Because last night, you were… distracted."
Her face burned. "I—"
"You felt it," he interrupted softly, stepping closer. "The tension between us. Don't deny it. Don't try to hide it."
Elena looked away, gripping the edge of the blanket. "It doesn't matter."
"It does," he said quietly, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. "Your body may think differently, but your mind needs to understand who is in control here."
She clenched her fists. "I'm not yours, Victor."
"You are," he said simply. "By contract. By circumstance. And by the fact that every moment you breathe in this house, you will feel my influence."
Her pulse raced, her chest tight. He was dangerously close now, the heat of his body radiating toward hers without touching.
"Step into the shower," he said finally, his tone commanding but calm. "Breakfast will be in an hour. Don't be late."
Elena nodded, her mind spinning. She had obeyed him, of course. She always had. But that didn't stop the memory of last night's closeness from burning her skin.
Before she could retreat, Victor added, "One more thing."
She froze.
"Do not test me," he said quietly, leaning down so their eyes met. "Not in front of the staff, not in private, not anywhere. If you do… consequences will follow. And I won't hesitate."
Elena's stomach knotted. "I—I understand."
"Good." He straightened and turned toward the door. "Shower. Clothes are in your room. And Elena…"
She looked up, heart hammering.
"You belong here. Don't forget it."
The door clicked closed behind him, leaving her alone again.
She exhaled shakily, gripping the sheets.
Her body still burned where he had been, and her mind refused to stop replaying the way his voice had lowered, the intensity of his stare, the subtle warmth that lingered even when he was gone.
This was no longer just a contract.
It was a test.
And Elena realized with a sinking thrill that she didn't know if she wanted to pass.