“Lock him up,” Nicolai orders his men. “Make sure our guest receives a fitting welcome.”

“No,” I thrash in Nicolai’s grasp, nails clawing at his arms as his men close in.

Three men lunge for Ares at once.

“No!” I scream, fighting with every bit of might I have in me against the arms holding me back. “Please, let him go. Ares!”

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look the slightest bit afraid. His eyes stay locked on me, wild and burning, even as they yank his arms behind his back and start dragging him away.

“If you let me walk,” he snarls, muscles straining against their grip, “I’ll never stop hunting you. You hear me? So, let her go and fucking kill me if you need to, but you lay another finger on her, and I swear to God, Moretti, I will rip you apart with my bare hands.”

Nicolai chuckles, cool and unfazed. “I’ve always said that temper of yours is going to get you killed.” Ares roars, lunging, but the men restraining him slam him back and punch him hard across the face.

“Stop it!” I cry again, tears burning tracks down my cheeks as I twist, helpless, in Nicolai’s iron hold. “Please, just stop!”

Ares fights them with everything he has. Until they vanish down the corridor and the door slams shut behind them, and then… silence.

A silence that shatters something inside me.

The door slams behind them, but the echo still rings in my skull like a gunshot.

Ares.

His voice. His eyes. That look, raw and breaking and unmovable. It’s still burned into the backs of my eyelids, chasing every blink. My knees nearly buckle beneath me, but Nicolai’s hand is still around my arm, holding me upright like a leash.

“You’ll get used to it,” he says, like this is routine. Like this is normal. “Eventually, he’ll just be a memory you cry about in private.”

I twist out of his grip, venom climbing my throat. “You can chain me to your side. Parade me around like some prize. But you will never have me. I will never be yours.”

Nicolai smiles, mocking and indulgent. “That’s where you’re wrong, Stellina. You already are. You agreed to the wedding.”

“I agreed to save him,” I snap. “But don’t confuse survival with surrender. I will stand there tomorrow, say what I have to, but it means nothing.”

His smile fades slowly, replaced with something colder. More calculating. He steps in close, his voice low and poisonous. “You’ll be mine in name, in body, in every way that matters. And Ares, he’ll watch you become mine.”

I feel the nausea rise in my chest, but I don’t flinch.

I meet his eyes, even as mine fill with tears.

“If you even think about going back on your word… if he doesn’t walk out of here, if you hurt him, if you so much as touch him again, I swear to God, Nicolai…

I’ll finish what he couldn’t. I will kill you.

I don’t care how many guards you have or how high your walls are. I will find a way and kill you.”

A slow, almost admiring chuckle leaves him. “Such fire, Stellina. A shame to waste it on a dead man walking.”

“Then don’t test me,” I whisper. “Because I’ve already lost everything that matters. That makes me dangerous.”

He stares at me, a slow, mocking smirk tugging at his mouth. Then he lifts his hand, casual, deliberate and brushes the back of his fingers along my cheek with a mockery of tenderness that makes my stomach turn.

“You think that makes you dangerous?” he murmurs, voice smooth and venom laced. “No, Jordyn. It makes you desperate. And desperation, in the wrong hands, is just another kind of weakness.”

And then he leans in closer, his breath brushing my skin.

“Lucky for you, I like broken things.” I step away from him, a disgusted look on my face, and he chuckles. “I can’t wait to see you in white,” he murmurs. “Try to get some rest. You’ve had a long day. I want my bride to be fresh and looking as beautiful as ever for our wedding.”

Then he turns and leaves, locking the door behind him with a heavy finality.

And I collapse, the silence pressing in from all sides.

How did my life come to this ?

When I used to imagine the day I’d get married, I pictured warmth.

Love. A dress I chose myself, not something laid out like a costume for a role I never wanted to play.

I thought I’d be smiling, surrounded by people that I love.

I thought my heart would be full, not breaking apart with every breath I take.

I certainly never thought I’d be forced into it at gun point, no less. And definitely not to a man like Nicolai Moretti.

I sit curled in the windowsill, knees drawn to my chest, forehead pressed against the cold glass as a pale strip of sunlight cuts across the sky.

For everyone else, a new day is beginning.

For me, it’s a day of doom. It should feel like a beginning, but it doesn't. It feels like the slow death of everything I thought I had time to hold on to.

My fingers rest over the slight curve of my stomach. I can’t feel anything yet, but the weight of it crushes me. A secret I carry alone, one that twists itself into every decision I make and forces me to pretend I have strength when all I feel is fear.

Tears slip silently down my cheeks. I don't try to stop them. There’s no one here to see me fall apart, no one to judge the way I’ve unravelled in the dark.

I’ve screamed already, beat my fists bloody against the door hours ago.

Now there’s only this quiet ache, the kind that settles into your bones and stays there.

Ares is somewhere in this mansion. Alive, I hope.

Hurt, I know. And it’s my fault. I should have listened to him and stayed put.

Instead, I made him to walk straight into a trap.

And now, I have no choice but to give Nicolai what he wants.

To protect Ares, I said yes to marrying him.

My voice barely carried when I did, but it was enough.

Enough to seal the deal. Enough to make Nicolai smile like he’d already won.

And maybe he has.

Because I can’t see a way out of this. Not without someone dying.

I wrap my arms around my legs, rocking slightly as if the motion might calm the chaos inside me.

My mind spins with impossible choices, none of them ending with Ares safe or me free.

The dress they gave me to wear hangs off the edge of the bed, white and delicate like it means something sacred.

But nothing about this is sacred. It’s a mockery, a violation, a performance dressed up in silk and lace.

I press my knuckles to my mouth and try not to sob.

I want to go to him. To find where they’re keeping him and throw myself at his feet and say I’m sorry. That I love him. That I’m doing this to save him, even though it’s breaking me apart. But the door is locked. The windows are barred. Every avenue of escape has been stripped away with precision.

I get up anyway and pace the room. Fingers trail along the edge of furniture, tapping, lifting, searching. There has to be something I can use. A spare key. A tool. Anything . But the only thing I find is my own reflection in the mirror. Eyes red. Hair a mess. Face pale and streaked with tears.

I don’t look like a bride. I look like a prisoner.

A quiet knock breaks the stillness.

“Miss Windslow.” A male voice, muffled but sharp. “It’s time.”

Time for what? To walk into a nightmare? To make myself a bargaining chip for a man I loathe? To let Ares watch me give myself to his enemy?

My hand finds my stomach again, trembling.

This isn't just about me anymore. It's not even just about Ares. This life inside me deserves a chance. A future. A world where it father is alive and not buried because of a choice I didn’t have the strength to make.

I turn away from the window, one last glance toward the horizon as if it might offer some kind of sign. There’s nothing. Just light. Just sky.

Just the echo of his voice in my memory, whispering my name like a vow.

I take a breath and step toward the door.

Let them dress me. Let them lead me to the altar. Let Nicolai smile like he’s already claimed me.

Because no matter what happens next, I will never belong to him. I will never let him touch me.

And if he breaks his word, if he hurts the man I love, I’ll make sure he never gets the chance to breathe again.

“I’m not getting ready.”

A suited guard appears in the doorway, unsure. “You need to be dressed. The ceremony?—”

“Get Nicolai,” I cut in, cold and unwavering now. “Tell him, I want to speak to him.”

The man hesitates, then vanishes down the hall.

Minutes pass. Long, aching ones. I don’t sit.

I don’t breathe right. My pulse is louder than the silence.

Until finally, the door opens again and Nicolai steps inside, smug as ever, all silk and poison in a tailored suit.

His dark eyes drag over me, expectant and a little disappointed.

“This better be good. The ceremony is in two hours.”

“I need to see him,” I say, arms crossed over my chest, grounding myself. “Ares. I need to see him. Talk to him one last time.”

His brow arches and he smirks darkly. “Aw, you want a romantic goodbye before the vows, Stellina?”

I glare at him. “No. I want to make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless that will get him killed,” I grit out. “I want him to know he has to walk away. That he can’t come after me after he walks out of here. I need him to hear that. From me.”

“And why would I allow that?”

“Because I’m not marrying you until I do.”

He narrows his eyes. “You promised me he’d walk out of here alive,” I go on, voice shaking with restraint. “Let me see him. Let me convince him to stay away. You get what you want. Ares lives. I marry you. But I need to know he’s still breathing. I need to see it for myself.”

For a moment, I think he’ll say no. He stares at me like he’s sizing up how far I’m willing to go. Whether I’m bluffing. But I’m not. I mean every word.

“Five minutes,” Nicolai finally says. “No touching. No whispering sweet nothings. You get your goodbye. And then you put on the fucking dress.”