Audrey's POV
I woke with a throbbing head, the remnants of last night's drink still clinging to my temples. My room felt… different. Empty. Silent. Too silent.
The sunlight slicing through the curtains didn't help. It made everything sharp, too clear. I sat up and realized something immediately—my phone was gone. My books weren't stacked where I left them. The small comforts of distraction had been stripped away.
Richard.
My stomach twisted. I remembered the way he'd glared at me in the car, how his grip on my wrist had been firm but controlled, his calm voice leaving no room for argument.
Dinner would be in an hour, and I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to explain. I didn't want to be reminded that I was under his roof, subject to his rules. But there was no escaping it.
—------
The staff quietly served me breakfast, their eyes trained downward, hands polite. No one dared meet my gaze. No one whispered. I felt… caged.
The door opened quietly. I didn't need to look. He didn't knock, didn't announce himself. That was his style—quiet dominance, calm authority. I felt it immediately.
"You went out last night," he said, not as a question. A statement. Controlled. I kept my expression neutral.
"I… went for a drink," I admitted, shrugging lightly. "Nothing serious."
His eyes narrowed. "Nothing serious?" He leaned back, steepling his fingers, calm but dangerous. "You left this house without permission, put yourself where you don't belong, and flirted with someone who had no business touching you. That's what 'nothing serious' looks like?"
I refused to lower my gaze. "I'm allowed to meet people. I'm allowed to—"
"You are not allowed to leave this house. You are not allowed to put yourself in danger. You are under my roof. You follow my rules," he interrupted, voice rising just slightly, enough to make my chest tighten.
I tilted my head. "So, I can't live my life, but you can do whatever you want?"
His jaw flexed. Calm, precise, controlled—but I could see the storm beneath.
"You've been following me," he said suddenly, low, and dangerous.
"For every act outside my rules, there is a consequence." His tone didn't waver. It wasn't a threat—it was law.
He leaned closer, voice dropping to a low growl. "Every step, every choice, every glance you take outside this house… I notice. I warned you about curiosity."
I lifted my chin, daring him. "And what if curiosity gets the better of me?"
His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist—gentle, firm, controlled. "Then you will learn that for every wrong act, there is always a cost."
I froze.
"I am taking your phone," he continued, voice cold. "No books. No distractions. You will remain in your room for five days. Staff will provide food and water. Nothing more. You will think, reflect, and remember that rules exist for a reason."
My stomach twisted. Five days? No phone, no books, trapped? Rage and humiliation surged through me, but I refused to let him see it.
"You can't do this!" I hissed, struggling slightly, but he didn't budge.
"I can," he said simply. "And I will."
He let go after a long moment, his eyes dark, calculating. I glared back, heart pounding. The punishment had begun, and yet… even as anger boiled in me, I couldn't stop the awareness that he was serious. Ruthless. And terrifyingly, perfectly in control.
As the staff escorted me to my room, I muttered under my breath, "You think this breaks me. You're wrong."
I slammed the door behind me. Five days. No distractions. No escape. Just me, my thoughts, and the cold truth: Richard Drake would punish, control, and dominate—but he hadn't broken me yet.
And I wasn't going to make it easy.