Chapter 7

• Chapter 7: The First Night
• Elena sat at the edge of the massive bed, her breathing uneven. Her fingers trembled as they touched the smooth leather collar wrapped around her throat. It wasn’t tight enough to choke her, but it felt suffocating all the same. A silent declaration of ownership. A brand.
• Her stomach twisted with a mixture of rage and humiliation. She wanted to rip it off, throw it at their feet, scream at them that she wasn’t a possession. But the small lock at the back told her the truth. This wasn’t just a symbol—it was a sentence.
• She clenched her jaw, forcing back the lump rising in her throat. She wouldn’t cry. Not in their house. Not under their rule.
• The events of the night replayed in her mind, sharp as a blade against her skull. The feel of the gun in her hands. The way the trigger had been so easy to pull. The sound of the shot ripping through the air. The body hitting the ground.
• She had done it.
• She had killed someone.
• Because of them.
• A sharp knock on the door made her flinch. Before she could respond, it swung open without permission.
• Gabriel.
• He leaned lazily against the frame, one hand in his pocket, his golden-brown hair slightly tousled, as if he had just rolled out of bed. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, teasing the toned skin beneath, his sleeves casually rolled up. He looked like sin wrapped in silk, like a devil who knew exactly how dangerous he was.
• And worst of all—he looked amused.
• Elena’s heart pounded, her fingers curling into fists.
• He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
• “Still awake, princess?” His voice was smooth, teasing, carrying that familiar note of arrogance that made her blood boil.
• Her glare was sharp as a knife. “Get out.”
• Gabriel let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t think you understand how things work here, sweetheart. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
• Elena shot up from the bed, her anger burning through the exhaustion. “What do you want?”
• Gabriel tilted his head, studying her. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.
• Her body tensed.
• “I was curious,” he murmured.
• Her pulse pounded. “Curious about what?”
• His smirk deepened.
• He reached out, his fingers brushing the collar around her neck.
• “How it feels,” he whispered.
• A shiver ran through her—one of fury, one of something else she didn’t want to name.
• Elena jerked away from his touch, slapping his hand aside. “Don’t touch me.”
• Gabriel chuckled, eyes gleaming. “Feisty.”
• She clenched her jaw. “I don’t belong to you.”
• His gaze darkened with something wicked. “Oh, but you do.”
• “No,” she snapped. “I signed a paper, that’s all. That doesn’t mean anything.”
• Gabriel hummed, stepping even closer. Too close. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of expensive cologne and whiskey clinging to his skin.
• “You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” he murmured.
• Elena refused to back down. “You’re both sick.”
• Gabriel grinned. “And yet, here you are.”
• She narrowed her eyes. “Because you won’t let me leave.”
• He smirked. “Exactly.”
• The air between them shifted, growing heavier, charged with something dangerous.
• Elena hated the way he looked at her. Not just like she was trapped—but like he was enjoying it.
• Like he enjoyed seeing her fight.
• His gaze drifted over her, slow and deliberate, studying her like she was something to be figured out, something to be broken.
• She lifted her chin. “Are you done?”
• Gabriel’s smirk widened. “Not even close.”
• And then, before she could react, he grabbed her wrist, yanking her forward.
• She gasped, stumbling against him, her hands pressing against his chest.
• The heat of him burned through the thin fabric of his shirt. He was solid, warm, and entirely too close.
• Her breath caught as his fingers traced down her arm, slow, teasing.
• “You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured.
• Elena glared up at him, her heart slamming against her ribs. “Feel what?”
• Gabriel’s lips brushed against her ear, his breath warm. “The pull.”
• A shiver ran through her spine.
• No.
• She wouldn’t let them do this to her.
• Wouldn’t let them win.
• She shoved him, hard. “Stay away from me.”
• Gabriel barely moved, but his smirk only grew.
• His fingers ghosted over the collar again, sending heat crawling up her neck.
• “You look good like this,” he mused.
• Her stomach twisted. “I swear, if you don’t leave—”
• Gabriel clicked his tongue. “Threats, princess? You’re not in a position to make those.”
• She seethed, rage and humiliation burning through her.
• Gabriel finally took a step back, watching her with amusement.
• “Well,” he drawled, stretching lazily. “I suppose I’ll let you sleep.”
• Elena’s shoulders sagged with relief.
• Then he paused at the door, glancing back at her.
• “Oh, and one more thing.”
• She tensed.
• Gabriel’s smirk returned, wicked and dangerous. “Tomorrow, you’ll dance for us.”
• Her stomach dropped. “What?”
• Gabriel tilted his head. “You heard me.”
• She shook her head, taking a step back. “I won’t.”
• His smirk widened. “You will.”
• Her nails dug into her palms. “Why?”
• Gabriel leaned against the doorframe, watching her with lazy interest. “Because it’ll be fun.”
• She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “You can’t force me.”
• Gabriel arched a brow. “Can’t we?”
• Elena’s breath hitched.
• And then, before she could argue, he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
• She stood frozen, her whole body trembling.
• Tomorrow.
• She didn’t know what he had planned, but she knew one thing.
• It would be another battle.
• And she wasn’t ready for it.