Isla POV
The moment I heard my name, my chest tightened. Neither Marcus nor I moved immediately. Whoever it was carried an air of quiet control that made the walls feel smaller, suffocating in their presence. My pulse quickened, a mixture of fear and something sharper recognition, instinct, curiosity.
Marcus broke the silence first. "Who the hell is that?" His voice carried authority, but the slight twitch at the corner of his jaw betrayed him. He wasn't used to anyone holding attention the way this man did.
"I'm here for Isla," the man said, calm, deliberate. His voice had a strange weight to it, one that didn't need to be raised to demand attention. He stepped into the light, and my breath caught.
He was tall, sharp, dressed in simple dark clothes that somehow made him stand out more. His gaze met mine, intense and unflinching, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. "I know you," he said softly. "I've known you a long time."
Something inside me twisted. I had seen that face before. Years ago, before Marcus, before the house, before everything broke apart I had known him. Lucien. The man I had left because he was nothing. Poor. Broken. Now he stood here, calm, confident, dangerous, and somehow still familiar. My stomach tightened. He looked nothing like the man I had known; this was someone entirely new, and yet… it was him.
Marcus stepped forward, voice sharp. "You don't belong here."
Lucien ignored him, eyes still on me. "You're in danger," he said quietly, like it was a statement rather than a warning. "And not the kind you can walk away from. Marcus… he's been collecting more than your obedience. More than your trust. He's been holding pieces of you hostage."
I frowned, tension tightening every muscle. "Pieces of me?"Yes," Lucien said. "He has a file. Sex Recordings."
My heart stopped. Something heavy, awful, hit me like ice in my chest. "Videos?" My voice cracked.
"He's been recording everything," Lucien said, eyes dark. "Every time you were with him. Every intimate moment. He's been keeping it as insurance."
I couldn't breathe. The room seemed smaller, the walls pressing in, like my body was collapsing inward. My hands gripped the edge of the sofa until my knuckles went white. "Why… why would he do that?"
Lucien's jaw tightened slightly. "Because he doesn't want you to leave. Not now, not ever. He knows you'll try, and he's prepared. That's the kind of man Marcus is. He doesn't lose control. He uses everything he can to hold you."
I felt a wave of nausea, a mix of betrayal and shame that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the life I had been forced into.
Everything I had believed, even after knowing the marriage was fake, felt like another betrayal, another trap.
Lucien's gaze softened slightly, just for a moment. "I didn't come here to lecture you. I came because I can help. You just need to see it first."
I stared at him, mind racing. My chest ached. "You… you can help me? After all these years?"
He nodded, but his eyes didn't soften. "I can, but this isn't about old feelings. It's about the leverage Marcus has over you. That file… it's dangerous. And you can't ignore it."
I sank onto the sofa, my head in my hands. My mind reeled. The life I had been forced to leave behind my agency, my voice, my choiceswasn't just broken. It was weaponized.
Every moment, every mistake, every vulnerable second had been recorded, stored, and now used as a chain to keep me captive.
Lucien crouched slightly, careful not to be imposing, but close enough that I felt the heat of his presence. "You think leaving before knowing this will save you?" he asked. "It won't. Marcus planned for this. You're in a position he's spent years creating. But… we can fight it. If you're willing to."
I swallowed hard. The taste of bitter realization was on my tongue. I remembered Lucien as he had been tired, struggling, nothing to offer but himself. And now, he was here, a stranger in some ways, a man who had built himself back up, powerful, controlled, and ready to face Marcus in ways I couldn't. And I… I had left him once. I had chosen comfort, money, a house, over him. I had chosen Marcus over Lucien.
And now, I was paying the price.
Marcus's voice cut through the tension, sharp and poisonous. "You think you have someone to save you?" He laughed, low and dangerous. "She's mine. Every secret. Every mistake. Every intimate moment I own her."
I flinched at the words. "What… what do you mean 'own'?" I asked, voice barely steady.
Marcus stepped closer, eyes glinting with a cruel satisfaction. "The videos, Isla. Every time you trusted me. Every time you thought I cared. I captured it. Stored it. Just in case you ever thought you had the right to walk away. Just in case you thought you could be free."
My body shook. The betrayal cut deeper than the fake marriage, deeper than the lies about my mother, because this was personal. This was intimate. This was him saying, you will never leave because I have all of you.
Lucien stepped forward, calm, his presence steadying me in a way Marcus never could. "You're not alone," he said, voice firm. "But you need to understand what we're dealing with first. He's prepared for you to act without thinking. He wants to trap you. But knowing is the first step to fighting back."
I lifted my head and looked at him, truly looked, and my chest tightened again. Lucien had changed. The boy I had once loved, the man I had left because he had nothing, was gone. Here stood someone deliberate, controlled, dangerous in his own right, but his eyes still carried a flicker of what I remembered protection, concern, a fire I had once felt for him.
My throat ached as I swallowed. "And… you can stop him?" I asked, doubt mingling with a fragile hope.
"I can," he said simply. "But you have to act. You can't hesitate. Not with the leverage he holds. Not with what he's ready to use against you."
I felt my knees weaken slightly. Everything I had worked to endure the betrayal, the fake marriage, the lies about my mother was nothing compared to this. This… blackmail. Marcus had built a weapon out of my body, my vulnerability, my intimacy. And now, Lucien had returned at a time when I was more broken than I had ever been.
I closed my eyes for a long moment. When I opened them, I realized the weight of the decision ahead. I could sit here, paralyzed, letting Marcus use every intimate moment against me. Or I could act, knowing that the man I once left—now standing before me—could help me fight back.
My hands trembled. My chest tightened. I wanted to speak, to scream, to cry, but no sound came. All I could do was look at Lucien, and for the first time in years, see a sliver of hope.
Marcus's voice, low and menacing, cut through the quiet again. "You're thinking too much," he said. "You can't fight me, Isla. You never could. And if you try…"
He didn't finish. But I didn't need him to.
Lucien's gaze flicked to Marcus, unwavering, sharp. "Try me," he said, simple and dangerous. "Try me, and we'll see who controls the truth."
I shivered, but it wasn't from fear alone. It was anticipation, dread, and a strange flicker of trust in the man I had left. I realized then, with a pang of regret and hope tangled together, that my life had never been truly mine. Not until this moment.
But even as the thought formed, I saw Marcus reach into his jacket. My stomach dropped. He held a small device in his hand the storage for the videos. Every one of them. Every secret. Every intimate betrayal.
My heart froze.
And in that moment, I understood fully. The fight for my freedom wasn't just about leaving him. It was about reclaiming myself from the leverage he had built, moment by moment, year by year.
Lucien stepped closer, calm, steady, almost magnetic. "You're not alone," he whispered. "But it starts now. Decide, Isla. Do you want to survive, or do you want to stay a prisoner?"
I swallowed hard.
Because the moment I chose, there would be no turning back.