Trapped with the heart that loved him

Our house never slept.

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‎Even at night, it breathed. Light spilled from towering glass windows, reflecting off polished marble floors and the sparkling fountains at the center of the compound. Staff moved silently through the hallways, shadows flitting across walls lined with priceless art. The low hum of the generators reminded everyone inside that wealth didn't exist in silence,it existed in control.

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‎I had lived like this my entire life: safe, surrounded by opulence, yet confined. My father's rules were invisible walls and though I appeared free, every step I took had always been measured. Luxury without freedom was a gilded cage, and I knew every bar by heart.

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‎The gates were already open when my father's car rolled into the driveway. The headlights caught the fountain, the water glittering like frozen fire. My heels clicked against the stones as I stepped from the house into the driveway, straightening the emerald silk dress that hugged my curves in all the right ways. I knew I was beautiful,everyone did ,but beauty in our world was a weapon, a distraction, a warning. And I had never needed it... until now.

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‎Our home loomed behind me, three floors of glass, stone, and quiet authority. Chandeliers glimmered like stars trapped indoors. Sculptures and paintings lined the walls, each a symbol of power and taste. Everything about this house screamed control, even to those who weren't supposed to notice it. I had spent my life learning to exist here without breaking it or myself.

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‎"Meelan."

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‎My father's voice was calm, firm, and full of weight. He stood near the car, tall, immaculately dressed in a dark tailored suit. He didn't smile often. When he did, it was brief, calculated-a sign of approval or warning, never affection.

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‎"You'll be joining us tonight," he said. Not a question.

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‎I nodded, aware that "joining" didn't mean mingling freely. It meant performing. Standing, Smiling,Observing, Being beautiful, being graceful, being silent. My life was a script I had to recite perfectly, every word, every step, every glance measured.

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‎Abi arrived as I reached the grand staircase, slipping through the house like a breeze that didn't belong. She had always been my rebellion, my breath of air in a life boxed by luxury and rules. Her laughter was soft and irreverent, her eyes sharp, her presence untouchable. She was my friend.

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‎"Wow," she whispered, surveying the hall. "Your house somehow manages to get more extravagant every year."

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‎I smiled faintly. "That's the illusion."

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‎Abi tilted her head toward me, her grin widening. "And you, Meelan. You're beautiful,curvy,confident. You walk like you own the room, even if your life is... well, this." She gestured vaguely at the walls, the staff, the polished perfection.

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‎I rolled my eyes. "Abi, stop."

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‎"Nope," she said. "Facts. Your father could auction you tonight, and people would pay double just to look at you."

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‎I laughed, though a pulse of unease ran through me. Abi always noticed everything I pretended didn't matter,the way I carried myself, the way I observed rather than participated. Tonight, that attention felt different.

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‎Guests began arriving, a blur of suits, gowns, and carefully curated smiles. Conversations overlapped in a symphony of politeness and quiet competition. I moved through it all like I always did, standing by my father, nodding, smiling, observing, never speaking too much. A life caged in wealth but disciplined by rules, always measured.

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‎And then I felt it.

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‎A shift in the air. it was Subtle, magnetic and undeniable.

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‎I turned toward the balcony doors.

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‎He was there.

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‎Tall, broad-shouldered, lean yet undeniably strong. One hand rested casually in his pocket, the other held a glass untouched. He wasn't moving, wasn't smiling, wasn't trying to be noticed. And yet... he commanded attention.

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‎Our eyes met.

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‎Everything else fell away: the music, the chatter, the distant clinking of glasses. My breath caught. My heart slammed against my ribs. The room shrank to a narrow corridor of light and shadow, him at the center.

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‎He was handsomely dangerous not soft, flattering beauty, but the kind that made you aware of every detail. Dark hair swept back, strong jawline, high cheekbones, eyes like sharp knives softened by mystery. A mouth that hinted at charm and danger at once. He didn't smile, and yet I felt the pull of something I couldn't name.It was a mixture of fascination, fear, and something far too exciting.

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‎I didn't move. ....In fact, I couldn't.

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‎Abi's hand nudged my arm. "Meelan... who is that?"

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‎I didn't answer. My voice caught in my throat. I couldn't explain it.

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‎He didn't look away.

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‎Neither did I.

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‎The tension wasn't lust ,it was danger, power and inevitability. Something passed between us in a single look: awareness, curiosity, and the silent promise of chaos. My chest tightened. My pulse raced. I had never felt this before, and I had never wanted anything I couldn't have.

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‎Abi leaned closer. "He's... unreal. You feel it too, right?"

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‎I exhaled sharply, trying to focus. I had been raised to observe, to comply, to obey rules. Yet this man, this stranger, was breaking every rule my life had imposed.

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‎My father's hand rested lightly on my shoulder. "Stay near me tonight," he said. Calm words, but firm and Protective . My father,Mr.Harlan didn't speak lightly; anyone he considered dangerous was noted, tracked, and judged.

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‎And then I realized: Alaiz was already violating a rule my father enforced without exception.

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‎No guest was ever allowed to linger near the daughters uninvited. No one approached too closely, no stranger dared to hold my gaze, and yet here he was unapologetic, unflinching, standing so close I could feel the weight of his presence across the room. My father had rules, strict, unbreakable, iron-clad and Alaiz had shattered the first one within minutes.

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‎My pulse jumped. This wasn't just attraction; this was dangerous ,Reckless and Forbidden.

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‎Abi whispered again, almost lost under the hum of the crowd, "Mark my words... tonight changes everything."

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‎I nodded silently, my thoughts tangled. She could see the tension, the pull, the spark. She always noticed.

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‎Minutes passed. Guests mingled, conversations drifted around me, but I remained fixated. He hadn't moved, hadn't interacted with anyone, yet his presence was absolute. Every subtle shift in his posture, every tilt of his head radiated control.

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‎I wanted to step back. My instincts screamed it. But my body... my body betrayed me. It leaned forward, drawn like a moth to a flame that could burn me alive.

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‎My father's eyes flicked toward Alaiz once, sharp and calculating. He didn't speak, but the warning in that glance froze me cold. Do not let him near you. Do not let him know he matters. Do not break the rules.

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‎But rules had a funny way of falling apart when someone like him existed.

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‎I felt the invisible chains around my life tightening just to resist him, and yet a tiny, reckless part of me thrilled at his audacity.

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‎And then... he moved.

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‎Not toward me, not openly. Just a tilt of his head, a subtle glance, and it was enough. Enough to make the air heavier, my heartbeat louder, the room smaller. His gaze swept the hall with quiet command, lingering where it pleased. I knew, without words, that he had already noticed everything about me. And he didn't care about my father's rules.

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‎I wanted to tell Abi to step back. To leave me alone with him. My chest burned with the urge to act, to step, to speak, to touch but I couldn't. My father's presence was a weight , a warning and a chain.

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‎Yet his stare was a promise he wouldn't not let go.

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‎And then the night twisted in an instant.

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‎The chandelier above the grand hall flickered ,a small, almost imperceptible tremor. Guests murmured, thinking it a minor fault in the wiring. But I knew better. Something had shifted, something unseen yet palpable, and Alaiz's gaze found me again, sharper this time, as if daring me to notice, to defy.

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‎I realized, with a pang of both fear and exhilaration, that my life had irrevocably changed. The comfortable, safe, locked-in world I had known was already cracking. And in its cracks, he waited.

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‎A hand slid lightly onto my shoulder,my father's but it did nothing to ease the fire building in my chest. His calm words could not contain the storm that had arrived uninvited.

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‎Tonight... everything would break.

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‎And I knew it.

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‎Because the man who dared break my father's rules, who dared exist so close to me, had already staked a claim ,not on my body, not on my heart, but on my very attention, my very life.

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‎And when our eyes met once more across the crowded hall, the world contracted to nothing but that dangerous, undeniable pull. I didn't know his name. I didn't know his intentions. I didn't know how to survive the night.

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‎But I did know this: Alaiz would not let go.

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‎And I... was powerless to resist.

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