The elders might argue that the union wouldn’t be strategic, given that she’s not from a powerful family. They would object because the marriage wouldn’t benefit the organization in any way.
But that wasn’t something I’d bother with. At the appropriate time, I’d address the issue and clear the air—if I felt like it. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t. I owed no one an explanation. They wanted a wife; they’d have one.
I told myself that this marriage was a form of punishment since I wasn’t going to kill Ellie. But deep down, it wasn’t just a punishment; it was a way to secure her safety.
I didn’t go to her for three more days, and during that time she never stepped out of her room. Her door wasn’t lockedfrom the outside, and I never gave her any instructions not to step out, as she used to.
She probably just chose solitude.
That evening, after work, I headed straight to her room, my polished shoes scuffing against the floor. Without knocking, I pushed the door open and waltzed inside.
My eyes scanned the interior, but there was no sign of her. I closed the door behind me and strolled further into the space, one hand in my pocket.
The bed was made to perfection, with pillows meticulously arranged at the headboard. The pearl necklace she wore to the gala sat on the bedside table, glinting in the soft light.
Chatter from the TV filled the room, a scene from a children’s cartoon. The air smelled faintly of her signature scent, mingling with the fragrance of fresh flowers.
I noticed the gray robe draped over the backrest of the wooden chair at her vanity, with a pair of red G-strings beneath it. A couple more paces and I heard the shower running in the bathroom.
She hadn’t attempted another escape, as I’d initially thought. She was only freshening up.
I sank into the nearby sofa, the fine leather crunching under my weight. With my legs crossed, I leaned back, relaxed, waiting for her to come out.
And eventually, she did.
The second she spotted me in her space, unannounced, she freaked out, almost jumping out of her skin.
“Jesus!” She flinched, and the towel around her body slipped off, pooling at her feet. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” She panicked, her hands flying to her chest as she bent to pick it up.
I didn’t react. Even though the fleeting sight stirred up something primal within me.
“What the hell?!” she snapped, her fingers securing the towel tightly around her body. “Don’t you know how to knock?!”
I hesitated for a moment. “You seem to forget your place, Miss Hendy.” My gaze locked with hers, drawn to the fire in her eyes. “You’re my prisoner, remember?”
She glared at me, her chest heaving with slow, controlled breaths. “Why are you here, Karik? What do you want with me?”
“The other day, you asked why we left the party in a hurry,” I began, fingers drumming on the armrest. “It’s because an enemy of mine had his eye on you.”
“Me?” She arched her brows. “Why?”
A pause.
“Because they thought you were my fiancée.”
Her eyes widened in shock, and she let out a stifled chuckle, laced with disbelief. “Yourfiancée. Are they stupid or something?”
Silence.
The seriousness on my face dissolved that wry smile of hers within seconds.
She cleared her throat, fingers combing through her damp hair, the strands sticking to her wet skin.
“Wait.” Her brows furrowed as confusion settled over her gaze. “So you’re telling me the reason you made us leave the party on time was simply because one of your enemies had their eyes on your…‘fiancée’?”
“They want you dead,” I stated bluntly. “And they’re not gonna stop until you are.”
Her eyes widened in absolute fear. “What?”