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She squeezed her eyes shut.
She didn’t want to open them.
She could feel him,his presence swirling in the room like a whisper, like something possessed.
It sent a chill down her spine.
Not just fear… but a sickening, confusing thrill that made her stomach turn.
She wanted to scream.
To wake up and yell at him.
How could he do this to her? How could he inject her like that?
What if whatever he injected hurt the baby?
That thought snapped her eyes open in panic.
Her hands shot straight to her stomach, trembling, searching, feeling.
Still flat.
Still there.
She let out a deep breath, pressing her palm gently against it.
She was still okay.
The baby was okay… right?
Then she heard it, his throat clearing, deliberately calm.
She didn’t look.
She couldn’t.
Her eyes drifted toward the opposite side of the room.
He was there, sitting like a king on his throne.
The room was massive.
Expensive.
Glass windows touched the ceiling.
Was this a penthouse?
Then she noticed the clothes,the white shirt clinging to his broad shoulders, the loose tie hanging carelessly around his neck, like he hadn’t even tried to dress properly.
Her jaw clenched.
“You’re awake,” Mr. Kings said, voice smooth.
His lips parted like he had more to say, .
But she didn’t respond.
She could feel it, the heat creeping under her skin, her body reacting to him.
And she hated it.
She wasn’t supposed to feel anything.
Not for him.
Not after what he did.
He drugged her.
He kidnapped her.
He walked toward her slowly, each step echoing, deliberate.
When he reached her side, he bent down, lowering his hand toward her cheek.
She slapped his hand away, hard.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.
He smiled. “ Finally my wife is talking to me now.”
Anna rolled her eyes and sat up fully, anger flickering like fire in her chest.
“So now what? You drug me, kidnap me, and bring me here?” Her voice shook, sharp with rage.
“After forcing me into a fake marriage, this is your next move?”
“I can’t have you shouting this early, babydoll,” he said, almost amused.
Ana scoffed.
“Really? Then what should we be doing, huh? Celebrating this fucking sham of a marriage?”
Mr. King smirked, slow and dark.
“Maybe that,” he replied.
“Or maybe we start our honeymoon… right here.”
He stepped closer, voice dropping lower.
“Fuck each other senseless. Let you scream for me in this penthouse till you forget why you ever tried to leave. Don’t you think that’s a better idea, honey?”
Ana’s breath caught in her throat.
And that was when she knew: she wasn’t just trapped in his world.
She was trapped in him.
Her jaw clenched.
Her hands balled into fists on the silk sheets as she glared at him.
“You’re disgusting,” she whispered.
“You really think you can touch me after what you did? After you drugged me like an animal?”
Mr. King crouched in front of her now, arms resting casually on his knees, eyes locked on hers, calm, unreadable, dangerous.
“I didn’t drug you,” he said softly,
“I protected you,from yourself. From making a mistake you’d never come back from.”
“A mistake?” she hissed.
“Leaving you is the only right thing I’ve ever tried to do.”
His face didn’t change.
He just stared at her like he was studying her every word, every movement.
Then, slowly, he reached into his ,pocket and pulled out a small vial,the same one from earlier.
Ana’s breath hitched. Her back stiffened.
“This?” he said, turning the vial between his fingers.
“It’s safe. Harmless to you. But effective enough to remind you that running from me isn’t an option.”
“You’ll never be forgiven for this,” she said, her voice low and steady now.
“Not in this life. Not ever.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked.
That got to him.
“Forgiveness,” he echoed, almost scoffing.
“I’m not asking for forgiveness, Ana. I’m asking for loyalty. And if I have to break you into a thousand pieces to keep you mine, then so be it. I’ll put you back together again. You’ll just fit differently.”
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
She tried to get up, but he moved faster pushing her gently but firmly back against the headboard, pinning her there with just his presence.
“I’m not your possession,” she growled.
“But you are,” he murmured.
“The ring, the papers, your signature… even your silence that night, it was all a yes to me.”
“I never...”
“You never said no either,” he cut in darkly.
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.
He leaned in closer, so close she could feel his breath brush her lips.
“You’ll come to love me again, Anna. I’ll make sure of it. Not because you have to… but because there’ll be nowhere else to go. Nowhere else that feels like this.”
He stood up, slowly buttoning his shirt.
“Rest,” he said. “We’ll talk later. You’ll be here a long time.”
Annla stared at the door as it clicked shut behind him.
Her chest rose and fell in shallow, furious breaths.
She looked down at her hands,trembling.
Then to the ring,still stuck on her swollen finger.
She sighed deeply and yanked the blanket off her body.
Sliding out of bed, her bare toes met the warm marble floor.
It was silent. Too silent.
She padded toward the wide sliding glass doors, her eyes catching the breathtaking view beyond.
There it was New York City, bold and brilliant, towering beneath her like she wasn’t even a part of it anymore.
Everything looked so far away.
She let out another shaky sigh.
They were high up..too high.
She could see rooftops, distant yellow taxis, tiny people moving like ants.
The world looked so normal from up here… and she felt anything but.
Her eyes dropped to her body.
She was wearing his shirt.
She groaned.
“This man is insane,” she muttered to herself. “A fucking bastard.”
He was ruining her life over and over again, first emotionally, now physically trapping her.
She didn’t even know which part of the location they were.
Wait.
Her thoughts halted.
"Where’s my phone?"
She turned quickly, scanning the room.
She moved back toward the bed, yanking open drawers, searching around corners.
Nothing.
Her eyes landed on the wall.
A massive framed photo stared back at her.
Her.
Her own face.
She froze.
What the hell…?
She stepped closer. It was her, wearing a soft black turtleneck, the one she wore on that day ,months ago.
But she had no idea anyone had taken this photo.
He had.
Chills crawled up her spine.
She didn’t remember posing.
She didn’t remember smiling like that.
How had he captured that moment?
She didn’t.
He’d done it.
Silently.
Obsessively.
She stared at her own face in the frame, her reflection faint in the glass.
It was like a stranger was looking back at her.
She scoffed loudly.
“Seriously? This is so fucking insane!” she muttered under her breath, storming toward the other side of the room,only to nearly bump into a woman standing quietly by the door, holding a tray in her hands.
“Oh...hi,” the woman said nervously.
Ana paused, surprised.
The woman looked older, gentle maybe the age of her mom, with soft eyes and kind features.
“Hello, Mrs. Kings,” the lady greeted politely, offering a warm smile.
Ana blinked. Mrs. Kings?
She almost laughed.
When the hell did that happen?
“Don’t… don’t call me that,” Ana said quickly, frowning.
“Please. Don’t call me that.”
The woman nodded slowly.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I was just told to address you that way. Your husband… Mr. Kings… he asked me to bring you breakfast. He said you were too tired to come downstairs.”
Ana’s jaw tightened.
Charlie.
Of course.
This was just another one of his manipulative gestures.
Another perfectly planned move to win her over..make her feel cared for.
Like he was some devoted husband trying to do right by her.
Why was he acting like she was made of glass..
She cleared her throat and forced a polite tone.
“Thank you, but… I’m not hungry.”
The woman smiled gently.
“That’s okay, ma’am. But Mr. Kings was very clear. He said you need to eat. He wants you to have energy.”
Ana’s stomach turned.
Before she could respond, something hit her nose a smell,sharp and heavy.
She raised her hand to cover her mouth.
“Wait...what is that? Did you cook pork?”
The woman nodded.
“Yes, ma’am. I was told it’s your favorite.”
Ana shook her head quickly.
“ I’ll come downstairs later. I
just…” her voice wavered,
“I don’t feel okay.”
She didn’t wait for a reply.
She turned away and rushed into the bathroom, knees hitting the cold tile floor.
And then..she bent over.
Her stomach clenched.
She gagged.
Everything inside her churned and flipped as she held onto the sink for dear life.
She rinsed her mouth, she brushed her teeth thoroughly, scrubbing away the sour taste of nausea.
When she was done, she placed both hands gently over her stomach.
“Come on, baby,” she whispered.
“You can’t be giving me trouble right now. Your father is already driving me crazy,and now you, too? Gosh… I just need a break.”
She sighed, full of silent frustration, then caught sight of the ring still glowing on her finger.
The way it glinted almost mocked her.
She groaned and shook her head.
Without another word, she peeled off Mr. Kings’ shirt and walked into the shower.
The water ran hot and calming over her skin.
It was the only place that didn’t feel like a trap.
After bathing, she stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel, heading back into the bedroom.
Her eyes scanned for some clothes but before she could open any drawers, the door clicked open.
Mr. Kings walked in, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone to his ear, talking to someone with a cold, commanding tone.
As soon as his eyes landed on her, he smirked.
Ana quickly looked away, refusing to meet his stare.
He ended the call with a quiet click and stepped toward her.
“Good morning again, wifey,” he said, his voice low, dark, and far too calm.
“I need clothes,” Ana replied flatly, ignoring his greeting.
He rubbed his chin, his smirk deepening. “I like you like this..just in my shirt.”
“I’m not going to wear your damn shirt all day, Charlie,” she snapped.
“I need my own clothes. And my phone. Where is it?”
“It’s here,” he said simply.
“Then give it to me,” she demanded.
“I’ll give it to you… when you start behaving like my wife,” he replied smoothly.
“For now, you’ll stay without your phone. No distractions. Just you and me.”
“You’re insane. You’re absolutely sick.” Her voice rose.
“I need my phone, Charlie!”
Before she could say anything else,.
Mr. Kings grabbed her and pulled her hard against his chest.
Her breath caught in her throat.
His body pressed firmly against hers, radiating heat and dominance.
She gasped, trembling as his hand slid around her waist, down to her lower back, groping her ass.
Then, his lips found hers in a slow, possessive kiss, she kissed him back.
She hated how her body reacted.
She shoved him hard in the chest, breath catching in her throat as she stared up at him with fire in her eyes.
“Don’t touch me!” she snapped.
“You don’t get to do that. Not anymore.”
Mr. Kings paused, unbothered, brushing a hand through his hair as if her fury was something soft, something he’d missed.
“You didn’t stop me,” he said coolly, voice low and maddeningly calm.
“You kissed me back.”
Ana clenched her fists.
“That wasn’t me. That was a mistake. My body might still react, but my heart doesn’t. Not anymore.”
He stepped closer.
She backed up instantly, keeping distance.
“You keep saying that, but you’re here,” he said, gesturing around the room. “With me.”
“I didn’t choose to be here!” she shouted. “You drugged me, dragged me here like I’m some toy you can lock away. What part of that sounds like love to you?”
He didn't flinch. “I brought you here because you were running. And I’m tired of chasing you.”
She scoffed. “That’s called obsession, Charlie. Not love.”
He tilted his head. “Call it what you want. But I know you still feel something for me.”
“I feel disgust. I feel rage. I feel fear.” Her voice cracked.
“But love? That died the moment you stopped being the man I trusted.”
He walked over to the wardrobe, pulled out a familiar silk dress,deep emerald green.
“I had it flown in. You’ll wear it tonight,” he said, tossing it on the bed.
Ana’s chest tightened. That dress...
“I’m not having dinner with you,” she said flatly.
“You will,” he replied, his eyes dark.
“Whether you hate me or not, Ana, you still belong to me.”
She said nothing.
Just turned away before he could see the tremble in her jaw…
“Let’s go have breakfast,” Mr. Kings said after a moment, his eyes fixed on her. “I heard you didn’t eat.”
“I don’t feel like eating,” Ana replied coldly. “As long as your face is anywhere near me, I’ll never be able to stomach anything.”
Mr. Kings chuckled. “So you’re going to starve yourself just because you can’t stand me?”
“Yes,” she shot back.
“I’d rather starve than share a table with you, or breathe the same air in this house, your house.”
He tilted his head.
“But this isn’t my house, baby doll. I bought this for you.”
She froze. “What?”
“This penthouse. It's yours. You can scream and try to run all you want, but you’re not leaving. You belong here,” he said, his voice low.
Ana narrowed her eyes. “You bought this? For me? Without my consent?”
“You’re my wife,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.
“I’m not your anything,” she snapped.
“And stop calling me that.”
He stepped closer, slowly, deliberately.
“You need to eat,” he said.
“You need your strength.”
“For what?” she demanded,.
“I have enough energy to last me a lifetime of fighting you.”
“No,” he said, voice dropping.
“You need energy… so when I fuck you tonight, you won’t pass out.”
Ana’s eyes widened.
“You’ll only fuck me in your dreams, Mr. Kings,” she spat, stepping away from him.
He smirked.
“I want my phone,” she continued.
“I need to call Joyce. My family. Tell them I’m alive and stuck here with my so-called husband.”
She stormed past him, but he didn’t follow.
Instead, he smiled, calmly.
“Joyce is already on her way here,” he said coolly.
“She knows exactly where you are.”
“What did you do…?” she whispered.
He didn’t answer.
He just walked away like a man who knew he always got what he wanted.
*****
Mr. Kings watched her.
She hadn’t touched the food.
It just sat there in front of her,untouched,while she stared blankly at the plate.
He swallowed hard.
A part of him wanted to let her go.
But another part,the darker part, the one obsessed with her,refused.
That part wouldn’t release her.
Wouldn’t allow her to walk away.
He sighed heavily, then stood and walked slowly toward where she sat.
Pulling a chair beside her, he sat down.
Anna didn’t flinch.
She didn’t even look at him.
She just kept staring at the plate as if it held all the answers to her pain.
“Ana,” he called softly, his voice low.
She didn’t respond.
“Please eat your food,” he said gently. “I don’t want you to starve… not because of me.”
Still no response.
“I promise…” he hesitated, “if you eat, I’ll let you go.”
Her head snapped toward him.
Her eyes widened, filled with something between disbelief and pain.
“You’ll… let me go?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
Mr. Kings swallowed.
His jaw clenched, the weight in her voice hitting deeper than he expected.
It was a gut punch.
Was she that desperate to leave him?
“Yes,” he said finally.
“Please. Eat. When we’re done… we’ll talk. If you want to stay, you can. If you want to leave… I’ll let you.”
He paused.
“I won’t force you anymore, Ana. It’s clear… you don’t want me. You hate me now. So… if that’s your choice, I’ll respect it.”
Ana stared at him, stunned.
Then, slowly, she picked up her fork and began to eat.
Every bite felt tight, like swallowing pain.
But she kept going.
Somewhere inside, a piece of her wanted to stay.
Even after everything. Even after the hurt.
Even after he dragged her here.
She still somehow loved him.
Still wanted to be near him.
God, how could love be this twisted?
But she couldn’t forget what he did.
Couldn’t forgive so easily.
And yet… another part of her screamed to tell him about the baby.
To tell him he was going to be a father.
But not yet. Not like this.
“I’m almost done,” she said quietly, glancing at him.
Mr. Kings smiled.
His hand reached under the table and gently pressed on her thigh.
Her heart skipped.
Her fork froze mid-air.
He didn’t speak.
He just kept his hand there, possessive, soft… claiming.
And somehow, she didn’t pull away.
***
**
“So, are you going to tell me why you wanted to marry Fatima?” she asked, clutching her hands tightly together.
Mr. King looked at her for a moment before he stood up, hands sliding into his pockets.
He stared down at her.
He was so composed, so damn tough.
Her mind was already swirling, and she hated how her body responded,was it his presence making her feel horny, or was it something else?
She quickly shook her head to push the feeling away.
Mr. Kings saw it.
Then he spoke, his voice low, rough. “I'm used to it.”
“Used to what?” she asked.
“To you looking at me like that,” he said. “Like you’re trying to choose between loving me and hating me.”
“I want to know,” she said firmly. “I want to know everything you think is in that damn book. Why you proposed to Fatima in the first place. Why you gave her a ring. What was it all about? You made me cry, Charlie. And then just gave up at the last minute. Why?”
Mr. King ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated, before walking closer to her.
He reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away just stared at him, biting her lip.
God, what I'm I doing? she scolded herself.
“Let’s go outside,” Mr. King said.
“We’ll talk out there.”
“Outside where?” she asked.
“There’s a pool,” he said.
“Why can’t you just talk here?” she asked.
“I want to talk outside,” he said again.
“Oh,” she said, a bitter smile curling on her lips. “So you can throw me in the water if I say something you don’t like?”
Mr. King groaned. “Now I’m the villain? That’s what you think? That I’m just some bad guy?”
“What should I think?” she said softly.
“You dragged me here, Charlie. You injected me. You kidnapped me. How am I supposed to trust you again? I’m scared. Scared for my life.”
His jaw clenched.
He stepped even closer. “I would never hurt you, baby girl. You mean too much to me. Hurting you is the last thing I ever want to do. But sometimes… you push me so far, Ana, you are fucking stubborn.And you don’t even see it. You drive me fucking insane”
“I’m not stubborn,” Ana snapped back.
Mr. Kings tilted his head.
“Then why did I have to do all that to bring you here?”
She rolled her eyes and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You didn’t have to. You chose to. That’s the problem with you...you think your way is always right. You don’t even stop to think that there’s another way. A better way.”
“I’m sorry. I know I can be extreme… maybe even crazy sometimes. But that’s who I am.”
“Then change,” she said, her voice rising.
“Try to change for me. If you want me, if you want this to work, then try. Do you even remember what you told me in Paris? You said you were willing to change
for me. You said you wanted to be a better man for my sake. What happened to that?”
He stayed quiet.
“You came back to New York, and you became that arrogant bastard all over again.”
He blinked, then smirked faintly. “Oh, so now I’m an arrogant bastard?”
Anna crossed her arms, her voice firm and clear.
“Yes , and you know you are, you just don't want to see it .”
T....
B.....C
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She squeezed her eyes shut.
She didn’t want to open them.
She could feel him,his presence swirling in the room like a whisper, like something possessed.
It sent a chill down her spine.
Not just fear… but a sickening, confusing thrill that made her stomach turn.
She wanted to scream.
To wake up and yell at him.
How could he do this to her? How could he inject her like that?
What if whatever he injected hurt the baby?
That thought snapped her eyes open in panic.
Her hands shot straight to her stomach, trembling, searching, feeling.
Still flat.
Still there.
She let out a deep breath, pressing her palm gently against it.
She was still okay.
The baby was okay… right?
Then she heard it, his throat clearing, deliberately calm.
She didn’t look.
She couldn’t.
Her eyes drifted toward the opposite side of the room.
He was there, sitting like a king on his throne.
The room was massive.
Expensive.
Glass windows touched the ceiling.
Was this a penthouse?
Then she noticed the clothes,the white shirt clinging to his broad shoulders, the loose tie hanging carelessly around his neck, like he hadn’t even tried to dress properly.
Her jaw clenched.
“You’re awake,” Mr. Kings said, voice smooth.
His lips parted like he had more to say, .
But she didn’t respond.
She could feel it, the heat creeping under her skin, her body reacting to him.
And she hated it.
She wasn’t supposed to feel anything.
Not for him.
Not after what he did.
He drugged her.
He kidnapped her.
He walked toward her slowly, each step echoing, deliberate.
When he reached her side, he bent down, lowering his hand toward her cheek.
She slapped his hand away, hard.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.
He smiled. “ Finally my wife is talking to me now.”
Anna rolled her eyes and sat up fully, anger flickering like fire in her chest.
“So now what? You drug me, kidnap me, and bring me here?” Her voice shook, sharp with rage.
“After forcing me into a fake marriage, this is your next move?”
“I can’t have you shouting this early, babydoll,” he said, almost amused.
Ana scoffed.
“Really? Then what should we be doing, huh? Celebrating this fucking sham of a marriage?”
Mr. King smirked, slow and dark.
“Maybe that,” he replied.
“Or maybe we start our honeymoon… right here.”
He stepped closer, voice dropping lower.
“Fuck each other senseless. Let you scream for me in this penthouse till you forget why you ever tried to leave. Don’t you think that’s a better idea, honey?”
Ana’s breath caught in her throat.
And that was when she knew: she wasn’t just trapped in his world.
She was trapped in him.
Her jaw clenched.
Her hands balled into fists on the silk sheets as she glared at him.
“You’re disgusting,” she whispered.
“You really think you can touch me after what you did? After you drugged me like an animal?”
Mr. King crouched in front of her now, arms resting casually on his knees, eyes locked on hers, calm, unreadable, dangerous.
“I didn’t drug you,” he said softly,
“I protected you,from yourself. From making a mistake you’d never come back from.”
“A mistake?” she hissed.
“Leaving you is the only right thing I’ve ever tried to do.”
His face didn’t change.
He just stared at her like he was studying her every word, every movement.
Then, slowly, he reached into his ,pocket and pulled out a small vial,the same one from earlier.
Ana’s breath hitched. Her back stiffened.
“This?” he said, turning the vial between his fingers.
“It’s safe. Harmless to you. But effective enough to remind you that running from me isn’t an option.”
“You’ll never be forgiven for this,” she said, her voice low and steady now.
“Not in this life. Not ever.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked.
That got to him.
“Forgiveness,” he echoed, almost scoffing.
“I’m not asking for forgiveness, Ana. I’m asking for loyalty. And if I have to break you into a thousand pieces to keep you mine, then so be it. I’ll put you back together again. You’ll just fit differently.”
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
She tried to get up, but he moved faster pushing her gently but firmly back against the headboard, pinning her there with just his presence.
“I’m not your possession,” she growled.
“But you are,” he murmured.
“The ring, the papers, your signature… even your silence that night, it was all a yes to me.”
“I never...”
“You never said no either,” he cut in darkly.
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.
He leaned in closer, so close she could feel his breath brush her lips.
“You’ll come to love me again, Anna. I’ll make sure of it. Not because you have to… but because there’ll be nowhere else to go. Nowhere else that feels like this.”
He stood up, slowly buttoning his shirt.
“Rest,” he said. “We’ll talk later. You’ll be here a long time.”
Annla stared at the door as it clicked shut behind him.
Her chest rose and fell in shallow, furious breaths.
She looked down at her hands,trembling.
Then to the ring,still stuck on her swollen finger.
She sighed deeply and yanked the blanket off her body.
Sliding out of bed, her bare toes met the warm marble floor.
It was silent. Too silent.
She padded toward the wide sliding glass doors, her eyes catching the breathtaking view beyond.
There it was New York City, bold and brilliant, towering beneath her like she wasn’t even a part of it anymore.
Everything looked so far away.
She let out another shaky sigh.
They were high up..too high.
She could see rooftops, distant yellow taxis, tiny people moving like ants.
The world looked so normal from up here… and she felt anything but.
Her eyes dropped to her body.
She was wearing his shirt.
She groaned.
“This man is insane,” she muttered to herself. “A fucking bastard.”
He was ruining her life over and over again, first emotionally, now physically trapping her.
She didn’t even know which part of the location they were.
Wait.
Her thoughts halted.
"Where’s my phone?"
She turned quickly, scanning the room.
She moved back toward the bed, yanking open drawers, searching around corners.
Nothing.
Her eyes landed on the wall.
A massive framed photo stared back at her.
Her.
Her own face.
She froze.
What the hell…?
She stepped closer. It was her, wearing a soft black turtleneck, the one she wore on that day ,months ago.
But she had no idea anyone had taken this photo.
He had.
Chills crawled up her spine.
She didn’t remember posing.
She didn’t remember smiling like that.
How had he captured that moment?
She didn’t.
He’d done it.
Silently.
Obsessively.
She stared at her own face in the frame, her reflection faint in the glass.
It was like a stranger was looking back at her.
She scoffed loudly.
“Seriously? This is so fucking insane!” she muttered under her breath, storming toward the other side of the room,only to nearly bump into a woman standing quietly by the door, holding a tray in her hands.
“Oh...hi,” the woman said nervously.
Ana paused, surprised.
The woman looked older, gentle maybe the age of her mom, with soft eyes and kind features.
“Hello, Mrs. Kings,” the lady greeted politely, offering a warm smile.
Ana blinked. Mrs. Kings?
She almost laughed.
When the hell did that happen?
“Don’t… don’t call me that,” Ana said quickly, frowning.
“Please. Don’t call me that.”
The woman nodded slowly.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I was just told to address you that way. Your husband… Mr. Kings… he asked me to bring you breakfast. He said you were too tired to come downstairs.”
Ana’s jaw tightened.
Charlie.
Of course.
This was just another one of his manipulative gestures.
Another perfectly planned move to win her over..make her feel cared for.
Like he was some devoted husband trying to do right by her.
Why was he acting like she was made of glass..
She cleared her throat and forced a polite tone.
“Thank you, but… I’m not hungry.”
The woman smiled gently.
“That’s okay, ma’am. But Mr. Kings was very clear. He said you need to eat. He wants you to have energy.”
Ana’s stomach turned.
Before she could respond, something hit her nose a smell,sharp and heavy.
She raised her hand to cover her mouth.
“Wait...what is that? Did you cook pork?”
The woman nodded.
“Yes, ma’am. I was told it’s your favorite.”
Ana shook her head quickly.
“ I’ll come downstairs later. I
just…” her voice wavered,
“I don’t feel okay.”
She didn’t wait for a reply.
She turned away and rushed into the bathroom, knees hitting the cold tile floor.
And then..she bent over.
Her stomach clenched.
She gagged.
Everything inside her churned and flipped as she held onto the sink for dear life.
She rinsed her mouth, she brushed her teeth thoroughly, scrubbing away the sour taste of nausea.
When she was done, she placed both hands gently over her stomach.
“Come on, baby,” she whispered.
“You can’t be giving me trouble right now. Your father is already driving me crazy,and now you, too? Gosh… I just need a break.”
She sighed, full of silent frustration, then caught sight of the ring still glowing on her finger.
The way it glinted almost mocked her.
She groaned and shook her head.
Without another word, she peeled off Mr. Kings’ shirt and walked into the shower.
The water ran hot and calming over her skin.
It was the only place that didn’t feel like a trap.
After bathing, she stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel, heading back into the bedroom.
Her eyes scanned for some clothes but before she could open any drawers, the door clicked open.
Mr. Kings walked in, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone to his ear, talking to someone with a cold, commanding tone.
As soon as his eyes landed on her, he smirked.
Ana quickly looked away, refusing to meet his stare.
He ended the call with a quiet click and stepped toward her.
“Good morning again, wifey,” he said, his voice low, dark, and far too calm.
“I need clothes,” Ana replied flatly, ignoring his greeting.
He rubbed his chin, his smirk deepening. “I like you like this..just in my shirt.”
“I’m not going to wear your damn shirt all day, Charlie,” she snapped.
“I need my own clothes. And my phone. Where is it?”
“It’s here,” he said simply.
“Then give it to me,” she demanded.
“I’ll give it to you… when you start behaving like my wife,” he replied smoothly.
“For now, you’ll stay without your phone. No distractions. Just you and me.”
“You’re insane. You’re absolutely sick.” Her voice rose.
“I need my phone, Charlie!”
Before she could say anything else,.
Mr. Kings grabbed her and pulled her hard against his chest.
Her breath caught in her throat.
His body pressed firmly against hers, radiating heat and dominance.
She gasped, trembling as his hand slid around her waist, down to her lower back, groping her ass.
Then, his lips found hers in a slow, possessive kiss, she kissed him back.
She hated how her body reacted.
She shoved him hard in the chest, breath catching in her throat as she stared up at him with fire in her eyes.
“Don’t touch me!” she snapped.
“You don’t get to do that. Not anymore.”
Mr. Kings paused, unbothered, brushing a hand through his hair as if her fury was something soft, something he’d missed.
“You didn’t stop me,” he said coolly, voice low and maddeningly calm.
“You kissed me back.”
Ana clenched her fists.
“That wasn’t me. That was a mistake. My body might still react, but my heart doesn’t. Not anymore.”
He stepped closer.
She backed up instantly, keeping distance.
“You keep saying that, but you’re here,” he said, gesturing around the room. “With me.”
“I didn’t choose to be here!” she shouted. “You drugged me, dragged me here like I’m some toy you can lock away. What part of that sounds like love to you?”
He didn't flinch. “I brought you here because you were running. And I’m tired of chasing you.”
She scoffed. “That’s called obsession, Charlie. Not love.”
He tilted his head. “Call it what you want. But I know you still feel something for me.”
“I feel disgust. I feel rage. I feel fear.” Her voice cracked.
“But love? That died the moment you stopped being the man I trusted.”
He walked over to the wardrobe, pulled out a familiar silk dress,deep emerald green.
“I had it flown in. You’ll wear it tonight,” he said, tossing it on the bed.
Ana’s chest tightened. That dress...
“I’m not having dinner with you,” she said flatly.
“You will,” he replied, his eyes dark.
“Whether you hate me or not, Ana, you still belong to me.”
She said nothing.
Just turned away before he could see the tremble in her jaw…
“Let’s go have breakfast,” Mr. Kings said after a moment, his eyes fixed on her. “I heard you didn’t eat.”
“I don’t feel like eating,” Ana replied coldly. “As long as your face is anywhere near me, I’ll never be able to stomach anything.”
Mr. Kings chuckled. “So you’re going to starve yourself just because you can’t stand me?”
“Yes,” she shot back.
“I’d rather starve than share a table with you, or breathe the same air in this house, your house.”
He tilted his head.
“But this isn’t my house, baby doll. I bought this for you.”
She froze. “What?”
“This penthouse. It's yours. You can scream and try to run all you want, but you’re not leaving. You belong here,” he said, his voice low.
Ana narrowed her eyes. “You bought this? For me? Without my consent?”
“You’re my wife,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.
“I’m not your anything,” she snapped.
“And stop calling me that.”
He stepped closer, slowly, deliberately.
“You need to eat,” he said.
“You need your strength.”
“For what?” she demanded,.
“I have enough energy to last me a lifetime of fighting you.”
“No,” he said, voice dropping.
“You need energy… so when I fuck you tonight, you won’t pass out.”
Ana’s eyes widened.
“You’ll only fuck me in your dreams, Mr. Kings,” she spat, stepping away from him.
He smirked.
“I want my phone,” she continued.
“I need to call Joyce. My family. Tell them I’m alive and stuck here with my so-called husband.”
She stormed past him, but he didn’t follow.
Instead, he smiled, calmly.
“Joyce is already on her way here,” he said coolly.
“She knows exactly where you are.”
“What did you do…?” she whispered.
He didn’t answer.
He just walked away like a man who knew he always got what he wanted.
*****
Mr. Kings watched her.
She hadn’t touched the food.
It just sat there in front of her,untouched,while she stared blankly at the plate.
He swallowed hard.
A part of him wanted to let her go.
But another part,the darker part, the one obsessed with her,refused.
That part wouldn’t release her.
Wouldn’t allow her to walk away.
He sighed heavily, then stood and walked slowly toward where she sat.
Pulling a chair beside her, he sat down.
Anna didn’t flinch.
She didn’t even look at him.
She just kept staring at the plate as if it held all the answers to her pain.
“Ana,” he called softly, his voice low.
She didn’t respond.
“Please eat your food,” he said gently. “I don’t want you to starve… not because of me.”
Still no response.
“I promise…” he hesitated, “if you eat, I’ll let you go.”
Her head snapped toward him.
Her eyes widened, filled with something between disbelief and pain.
“You’ll… let me go?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
Mr. Kings swallowed.
His jaw clenched, the weight in her voice hitting deeper than he expected.
It was a gut punch.
Was she that desperate to leave him?
“Yes,” he said finally.
“Please. Eat. When we’re done… we’ll talk. If you want to stay, you can. If you want to leave… I’ll let you.”
He paused.
“I won’t force you anymore, Ana. It’s clear… you don’t want me. You hate me now. So… if that’s your choice, I’ll respect it.”
Ana stared at him, stunned.
Then, slowly, she picked up her fork and began to eat.
Every bite felt tight, like swallowing pain.
But she kept going.
Somewhere inside, a piece of her wanted to stay.
Even after everything. Even after the hurt.
Even after he dragged her here.
She still somehow loved him.
Still wanted to be near him.
God, how could love be this twisted?
But she couldn’t forget what he did.
Couldn’t forgive so easily.
And yet… another part of her screamed to tell him about the baby.
To tell him he was going to be a father.
But not yet. Not like this.
“I’m almost done,” she said quietly, glancing at him.
Mr. Kings smiled.
His hand reached under the table and gently pressed on her thigh.
Her heart skipped.
Her fork froze mid-air.
He didn’t speak.
He just kept his hand there, possessive, soft… claiming.
And somehow, she didn’t pull away.
***
**
“So, are you going to tell me why you wanted to marry Fatima?” she asked, clutching her hands tightly together.
Mr. King looked at her for a moment before he stood up, hands sliding into his pockets.
He stared down at her.
He was so composed, so damn tough.
Her mind was already swirling, and she hated how her body responded,was it his presence making her feel horny, or was it something else?
She quickly shook her head to push the feeling away.
Mr. Kings saw it.
Then he spoke, his voice low, rough. “I'm used to it.”
“Used to what?” she asked.
“To you looking at me like that,” he said. “Like you’re trying to choose between loving me and hating me.”
“I want to know,” she said firmly. “I want to know everything you think is in that damn book. Why you proposed to Fatima in the first place. Why you gave her a ring. What was it all about? You made me cry, Charlie. And then just gave up at the last minute. Why?”
Mr. King ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated, before walking closer to her.
He reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away just stared at him, biting her lip.
God, what I'm I doing? she scolded herself.
“Let’s go outside,” Mr. King said.
“We’ll talk out there.”
“Outside where?” she asked.
“There’s a pool,” he said.
“Why can’t you just talk here?” she asked.
“I want to talk outside,” he said again.
“Oh,” she said, a bitter smile curling on her lips. “So you can throw me in the water if I say something you don’t like?”
Mr. King groaned. “Now I’m the villain? That’s what you think? That I’m just some bad guy?”
“What should I think?” she said softly.
“You dragged me here, Charlie. You injected me. You kidnapped me. How am I supposed to trust you again? I’m scared. Scared for my life.”
His jaw clenched.
He stepped even closer. “I would never hurt you, baby girl. You mean too much to me. Hurting you is the last thing I ever want to do. But sometimes… you push me so far, Ana, you are fucking stubborn.And you don’t even see it. You drive me fucking insane”
“I’m not stubborn,” Ana snapped back.
Mr. Kings tilted his head.
“Then why did I have to do all that to bring you here?”
She rolled her eyes and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You didn’t have to. You chose to. That’s the problem with you...you think your way is always right. You don’t even stop to think that there’s another way. A better way.”
“I’m sorry. I know I can be extreme… maybe even crazy sometimes. But that’s who I am.”
“Then change,” she said, her voice rising.
“Try to change for me. If you want me, if you want this to work, then try. Do you even remember what you told me in Paris? You said you were willing to change
for me. You said you wanted to be a better man for my sake. What happened to that?”
He stayed quiet.
“You came back to New York, and you became that arrogant bastard all over again.”
He blinked, then smirked faintly. “Oh, so now I’m an arrogant bastard?”
Anna crossed her arms, her voice firm and clear.
“Yes , and you know you are, you just don't want to see it .”
T....
B.....C
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