Page 120 of Sweet Deception

“I can’t.”

His expression hardened. “Then I’ll be forced to do what I should have done from the start.”

A shiver ran through me. “What’s that?”

His voice was quiet, dangerous. “Keep you in this house. No more freedom.”

I stiffened. “That’s kidnapping.”

His lips curved in a cruel smirk. “I know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “If I let you leave, I’ll lose you. And I can’t risk that.”

My pulse pounded in my ears. “You wouldn’t do that. I’m just your nominal wife.”

“Then promise me.”

“No.” I pushed against his chest. “I’ll leave whenever I want. I won’t make empty promises when I don’t even know how you truly feel about me.”

His gaze turned to ice. “You won’t have a choice.”

A chill crawled down my spine. “What are you saying?”

His voice was eerily calm. “That if you won’t promise me, you won’t leave this house.”

I clenched my fists. “If you do this, I swear, I’ll never forgive you.”

He hesitated, eyes flickering with something unreadable. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

Tears blurred my vision as his footsteps faded. How long would he keep me here? Days? Weeks? Months?

**

Five Days Later

For the first two days, I held on to hope.

I sat by the window, watching the gates, expecting a sign that Gleb had come to his senses. That any moment, one of his guards would knock on my door and tell me I was free to leave.

But nothing changed.

On the third day, I tried asking Zoya if she could reason with him, but she only sighed, looking torn. “You know how he is.”

By the fourth day, hope began to shrivel inside me.

By the fifth, I stopped waiting by the window.

It wasn’t just the captivity, it was the knowledge that Gleb, the man who claimed to want me by his side, had done this. The realization festered like an open wound, turning every second in this house into a slow, torturous punishment.

I paced the bedroom, running my fingers through my hair, my breath coming fast and uneven. The walls felt smaller today. The air, thinner. My chest ached from the weight of my own helplessness.

The bedroom was his space. His scent clung to the sheets, his suits still hung in the closet, untouched. And yet, he hadn’t come in here once since locking me up. Not to explain. Not to check on me.

I gritted my teeth.

Fine. If he wanted to act like this, then I’d make sure he felt it.

With a sharp exhale, I grabbed the nearest lamp and yanked it off the nightstand, sending it crashing to the floor. The sound rang through the silent house, but I didn’t stop. The books on the shelf? Gone. The pillows? Tossed across the room. The framed photo on the dresser? Shattered.

If Gleb thought he could control me, he was about to see just how wrong he was.