Selene did not sleep.
She lay on her back beneath silk sheets that felt too smooth, too foreign against her skin, staring at the ceiling as darkness slowly thinned into a bruised gray. The room smelled faintly of polished wood and something expensive she could not name. Nothing in it belonged to her. Not the bed. Not the walls. Not even the silence.
Her thoughts circled relentlessly, returning again and again to the same truth until it felt like it might split her open.
Adrien Moreau had not been bluffing. The mansion was too still for a bluff. Too controlled. Even the quiet felt supervised. Guards shifted softly outside her door every hour, boots whispering against marble. Somewhere deeper in the house, systems hummed, cameras blinked, locks stayed sealed. This was not a place built for comfort. It was built to contain.
She had signed a contract.
She had told herself that again and again through the night, as though repetition could make it less terrifying. A contract. Ink on paper. Words that promised protection. Words that hid teeth.
She had not imagined this.
The knock came just as the sky lightened.
It was soft. Polite.
That frightened her more than force ever could have.
"Come in," she said, her voice hoarse from disuse and fear.
The door opened.
Adrien stepped inside alone.
He was not wearing the suit from the night before. This time, he was dressed in black from head to toe, severe and precise, the kind of clothing that felt ceremonial rather than fashionable. His coat fit him like armor. His hair was neat. His expression unreadable.
He looked like a man who had already made his decision.
"You didn't sleep," he said.
It was not a question. He did not ask things he already knew.
Selene pushed herself upright, dragging the sheet higher as if it could shield her. "Neither did you."
A faint pause passed between them. Then, "No."
He closed the door behind him. The click echoed in her chest, sharp and final, as though something irreversible had just locked into place.
"Why am I still here?" she asked quietly. "If the contract is signed, if you already own whatever it is you think you do, why haven't you finished this?"
Adrien studied her with the same calm scrutiny he used on everything. Not hunger. Not cruelty. Assessment.
"You assume ownership is the end," he said. "It isn't. It's the beginning."
Her fingers curled into the sheets. "You said the terms were protection. Safety. Control. You didn't say anything about—"
"Marriage?" he finished.
The word landed between them like a dropped blade.
Selene stood so abruptly the bed creaked beneath her. "No," she said sharply. "You didn't say marriage."
Adrien's gaze didn't waver. "You didn't ask."
A brittle laugh tore out of her. "Because I didn't think I had to ask if you were going to legally bind me to you before sunrise."
He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, his presence filling the space until the room felt smaller. "There are people watching you now, Selene. People who understand leverage. A contract alone makes you valuable. A wife makes you untouchable."
"I don't want to be untouchable," she shot back. "I want to be free."
Silence stretched, thick and oppressive.
Adrien stopped an arm's length away. "Freedom is a luxury you lost the moment they noticed you."
Her head shook. "This isn't protection. This is possession."
"Yes," he said calmly. "And possession is respected in my world."
Her breathing quickened. "So that's it? You decide, and my life just changes?"
"It already changed," he replied. "I'm the reason it continues."
She searched his face for hesitation. For doubt. For anything that suggested this was negotiable.
There was nothing.
"When?" she whispered.
"Now."
Her throat tightened painfully. "There's no family. No witnesses. No choice."
"There will be witnesses," Adrien said. "Just not the kind you recognize."
A knock sounded at the door.
Adrien did not turn. "Bring her coat."
The door opened briefly. A woman Selene had never seen before stepped in, placed a dark garment over a chair, and left without a word. No eye contact. No acknowledgment.
Selene's hands shook openly now. "This is insane."
Adrien's voice softened, just enough to be dangerous. "This is survival."
He lifted the coat and held it out.
She stared at it, as though it might burn her.
"What happens after?" she asked. "After you get what you want?"
His eyes darkened. "After, you wear my ring. You live under my name. And no one touches you without dying for it."
Her chest ached. "And what do I get?"
For the first time since she had met him, Adrien hesitated. Only for a fraction of a second.
"You get to live," he said.
Selene closed her eyes.
When she opened them, she took the coat.
The ceremony was nothing like she had imagined marriage to be.
There were no flowers. No warmth. No promises whispered between smiles. The room was cold, marble floors gleaming under white lights that revealed everything and softened nothing. A man in a dark suit spoke words like legal incantations rather than vows. Adrien stood unmoving at her side.
Her hand trembled as she signed.
When the ring slid onto her finger, it felt heavier than metal should. Cold. Final.
Adrien did not kiss her.
He simply looked at her hand, then at her face.
"It's done," he said.
Selene stared at the ring until her vision blurred. "I'm married."
"Yes."
"To you."
"Yes."
A hollow laugh escaped her. "God help me."
Adrien's voice dropped. "I already am."
When they returned to the room, dawn had fully broken.
Adrien paused at the door. "You'll be moved to the east wing today. Your routine will change."
She didn't respond.
"Selene."
She looked up.
"You are my wife now," he said quietly. "Which means no one hurts you. Not them. Not me. Not even yourself."
Then he left.
Selene sank onto the bed, staring at the ring that glinted in the morning light.
Married before morning.
No escape.
Only him.