The freedom Adrian promised came quietly, almost deceptively.
The next morning, Elena woke to find the door unlocked.
She stared at it for a long time, half-expecting it to be a trick. When she finally pushed it open, nothing happened. No alarms. No guards rushing in. Just a long, sunlit corridor stretching ahead of her.
She stepped out slowly, barefoot against cold marble, her heart beating too fast for such a simple act. Each step felt like rebellion.
Downstairs, the house was alive in its own controlled way—maids moving silently, guards stationed at a distance, eyes alert but deliberately avoiding her. No one stopped her. No one questioned her presence.
She hated how much that unsettled her.
Outside, the garden opened wide and green, impossibly peaceful for a place owned by a man like Adrian Volkov. Roses bloomed in dark, heavy clusters. Fountains whispered softly. High walls surrounded everything, but from inside, they almost looked decorative.
Almost.
"Elena."
She turned.
Adrian stood a few feet away, no suit today, just a dark shirt and rolled sleeves again, as if he were trying to appear less like the man who ruled with fear. It didn't work. Power clung to him anyway.
"You let me out," she said.
"Yes."
"Why?"
He studied her like the answer wasn't simple. "Because cages work better when the door is open."
Anger flared. "You think I won't try to escape?"
"I know you will," he said calmly. "I'm counting on it."
She frowned. "That doesn't make sense."
"It will," he replied. "When you understand what waits for you outside these walls."
She stepped closer, frustration sharpening her courage. "You keep saying that. But you never explain."
Adrian's gaze darkened. "Because explaining would mean telling you things I'm not ready to say."
"About my family?" she pressed.
A pause. Too long.
"They're safe," he said finally.
"That's not what I asked."
Silence stretched tight between them. Somewhere in the distance, a bird took flight.
"You're not here by accident," Adrian said. "But you weren't chosen at random either."
Her pulse thudded painfully. "What does that mean?"
"It means," he said carefully, "that the life you thought you had was never as simple as you believed."
She felt the ground shift beneath her feet. "You're lying."
"I don't lie," he replied. "I withhold."
Before she could demand more, a man approached quickly, murmuring something in Adrian's ear. The change was instant. Adrian's body went still, lethal focus snapping into place.
"Inside," he said to Elena, his voice leaving no room for argument.
"What happened?"
"Now."
Reluctantly, she followed him back toward the house. The air felt heavier, charged with something wrong. Inside, Adrian stopped abruptly and turned to her.
"You stay in the east wing today," he said. "Do not wander."
"You just gave me freedom," she snapped. "You can't take it back every time something goes wrong."
His jaw tightened. "This isn't about control. It's about survival."
"Whose?"
He looked at her, and for the first time, he didn't answer immediately.
"Yours," he said at last. "And mine."
Before she could ask more, he was already moving away, issuing quiet, deadly orders. Men armed themselves. Doors closed. The house shifted from luxury to fortress in seconds.
Elena retreated to the window, watching vehicles arrive, watching the calm garden disappear beneath the shadow of impending violence.
For the first time, she understood—
This wasn't a world Adrian had dragged her into for pleasure or power alone.
This was a war zone.
And she was standing right in the center of it, bound to the most dangerous man she had ever known—not just by fear, but by secrets still waiting to surface.
Somewhere deep inside, another truth whispered, unwelcome and undeniable:
If the world came for Adrian Volkov,
it would have to go through her first.
And she didn't know yet whether that terrified her…
or changed everything. 🖤