Back at the penthouse, silence settled between them like smoke.
Ariella stepped out of her heels, her bare feet sinking into the thick carpet. She walked toward the glass window, arms crossed, the city glittering below her like a thousand secrets she couldn't read.
Behind her, Lucien poured a drink — something expensive, probably older than her.
"Do they always look at you like that?" she asked, her voice low. "Like you're untouchable?"
"I am," he replied.
She turned slowly. "And what am I? A possession for display?"
Lucien lifted his glass to his lips. "You're whatever I want you to be."
The words shouldn't have affected her—but they did. Not because they were cruel. But because they were true. He had the power. And she hated how her body reacted to it.
Ariella took a step forward. "You humiliated me in front of that woman."
"I protected you."
"By claiming me like property?"
"She would've destroyed you if I hadn't," he said, turning toward her now. "People like Olivia play dirty. She was testing you, and you failed."
"I'm not part of your world!" she snapped. "You can buy my time, Lucien, but you don't own my soul."
He placed the glass down slowly. "No. But I own your silence, your name, your future—for the next 361 days. Don't forget that."
She clenched her fists. "You think money makes you untouchable?"
He stepped toward her, closing the distance.
"No," he murmured. "I think power does. And you've never had it."
She tried to speak, but his hand slid gently, almost tenderly, to her chin. He tilted her face up. His touch was soft — the first softness he'd shown.
"You wore the dress like a queen," he said, voice quieter now. "You smiled like you were born for that world. So stop acting like the girl who got sold, and start being the woman who can rule beside me."
Her lips parted. She hated that he was right.
Hated it even more that a part of her… liked the fire he was trying to light inside her.
"Go to bed," he said finally, releasing her. "We start early tomorrow."
"For what?"
He turned, already walking away. "Your training."
---
That night, as she lay in a bed too soft to feel real, Ariella stared at the ceiling.
She'd come here as nothing more than a deal on paper. But something was changing.
And she wasn't sure if it was him… or her.