Adeline woke to the faint hum of the estate. The sun had barely risen, casting a pale light through the heavy curtains, yet it did nothing to ease the heaviness in her chest. The silence of the morning was almost suffocating. Donovan had not come to wake her, as he sometimes did. That absence, strangely, was both a relief and a source of unease.She dressed slowly, every movement deliberate, as if by controlling her body she could control the chaos of her mind. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying her attempt at composure. Breakfast appeared without announcement—a tray of perfectly arranged food, placed at the table by Ethan, who nodded once before disappearing. No words. No questions. Just the silent warning that this world allowed nothing to go unnoticed.Adeline ate mechanically, her mind racing back to yesterday. The arbitration house. The glass wall. Donovan seated like a king on his throne of judgment, calm, calculating, terrifying. But there had been something else—something she hadn't expected. The subtle way he had looked at her as she watched him dispense fear, not like she was prey, but like she mattered. And that thought was like fire in her chest, dangerous and undeniable.She barely had time to finish her meal when the door opened quietly.Donovan entered, his presence immediately filling the room. His tailored suit clung to his frame, impeccable as always, hair sleeked to the side, eyes sharp and calculating. He didn't speak at first. He just stood, the distance between them heavy with unspoken tension.Adeline's pulse quickened. She hated noticing the small details—the curve of his jaw, the faint scent of expensive cologne, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through every attempt she made at composure. Her fingers clenched at the edge of the table. She hated that even now, in this quiet room, he commanded her attention without a word."You're awake," he said at last, his voice low, smooth, controlled."I—yes," she stammered, trying to sound casual, failing entirely.He stepped closer. Just close enough that the air between them seemed to vibrate with something dangerous, magnetic. Her body reacted before her mind could intervene."I watched you last night," he admitted, quietly, almost intimately. "Not the fear. Not the trembling. The way you held yourself. The way you didn't break. That… intrigued me."Her throat went dry. "Intrigued?""Yes," he said, stepping a fraction closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "You think I only want obedience. You're wrong. I want more than that. I want your mind, your courage… even your anger. All of it."Her chest tightened. She wanted to step back. She wanted to protest. She wanted to run. But none of that happened. Instead, she met his gaze, fragile yet defiant."I'm not sure I can give that," she whispered.Donovan's expression softened, just enough to make her stomach twist. His hand lifted, brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. The touch was electric and deliberate, lingering in a way that burned more than it soothed."You already are," he murmured.Her heart thundered painfully in her chest. She hated how that made her feel—terrified yet drawn, resistant yet aching. Every instinct screamed that she should be afraid, but another, deeper instinct whispered that she wanted this, even if it terrified her.For the first time, she saw Donovan not as the Devil who could destroy her with a single thought, but as a man who wanted her—not for conquest, not for sport, but with a deliberate, unrelenting intensity that both frightened and captivated her."I… I don't know what this is," she said finally, voice barely above a whisper.He tilted his head, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. "Neither do I. But I know it's real. That's enough for now."The silence stretched between them, heavy with tension, possibility, and danger. She could hear her own heartbeat, loud in her ears, and she realized that he could hear it too, even without touching her.Her hands twisted in the folds of her dress, and for a fleeting moment, she imagined reaching out, letting herself lean into him, into the pull that she could not deny.Donovan noticed."You think fear defines me," he said softly, leaning just slightly closer, the air around him thick and intoxicating. "It doesn't. It's desire. Desire grows quietly, patiently… until it owns everything."She shivered, though she wasn't sure if it was from cold or from him. "And if I resist?"He smiled faintly, eyes dark and intense. "You won't resist for long. Not because I force you. Because this… this pull between us is inevitable. You feel it. I feel it. The only question is what you will do with it."Her pulse raced. Her mind screamed. But a small, dangerous part of her, the part that had already survived so much in his world, whispered: I want it too.She took a hesitant step forward, closing a fraction of the distance between them. "And what if I want it?"He leaned slightly, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. His hand hovered just near hers—never touching, yet every nerve in her body flared at the proximity."Then," he said, voice low and husky, "we'll both know it's real."Adeline's breath hitched. The pull between fear and desire, control and surrender, was intoxicating, suffocating, undeniable. She hated that she wanted it—and yet, she did.Outside, the estate remained silent, obedient, and perfect. Inside, a dangerous, magnetic tension grew, binding them together in ways neither could ignore.And for the first time, Adeline admitted it, even if only to herself:She wanted him.She wanted him, completely, dangerously… inevitably.
