Chapter 2 02

The bedroom was enormous, yet it felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. The king-sized bed, draped in crisp black sheets, stood as a monolith in the center of the room, and floor-to-ceiling windows provided a panoramic view of the city. But none of it mattered to Donna. The gilded beauty of her surroundings only amplified her suffocating rage.

She leaned back against the door, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady herself. Her hands clenched into fists as her mind replayed Conner's smug expression, the way he had claimed ownership of her like she was some prize he had won.

"Not his," she whispered under her breath, her voice shaking but firm. "I'll never be his."

A sharp knock on the door startled her, and before she could even respond, it opened, revealing Conner. He filled the doorway, his presence dominating the space as he leaned casually against the frame.

"Privacy isn't really a thing for you, is it?" Donna snapped, her arms crossing over her chest.

Conner's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Not in my house, no. What's mine doesn't get to lock me out."

Her blood boiled at his audacity. "Do you hear yourself? You're insufferable."

He pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a deliberate click. "And you're in denial. This isn't a fairytale, Donna. You don't get to stomp your feet and pout your way out of this marriage. You signed the contract. You're mine."

She stepped toward him, her anger overriding her fear. "I signed under duress. You don't own me, Conner. You can't control me, and I won't let you treat me like some possession."

He moved closer, his towering frame now inches from hers. His green eyes bored into hers, unreadable yet unyielding. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you?"

"I know exactly what I'm dealing with," she shot back. "A tyrant with too much money and no soul."

Conner's jaw ticked, his smirk faltering for just a second before he leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Careful, Donna. You don't want to see what happens when you push me too far."

Her breath hitched, but she refused to back down. "And you don't want to see what happens when you underestimate me."

For a moment, the air between them crackled with tension, neither willing to back down. Then, as if deciding she wasn't worth the effort, Conner straightened and stepped back, his smirk returning.

"Suit yourself," he said, his tone laced with mockery. "You'll come around eventually. They always do."

Donna's stomach twisted at his words, but she kept her expression neutral. "If you're done trying to intimidate me, I'd like to be alone."

Conner's eyes flicked over her one last time, lingering just long enough to make her skin crawl, before he turned and walked out of the room. The door closed behind him with a soft thud, leaving Donna alone once more.

She exhaled shakily, her knees threatening to buckle as she sank onto the edge of the bed. Her mind raced with everything that had happened, everything she'd just endured. She felt like she was drowning, trapped in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.

But even as despair threatened to consume her, Donna clenched her fists and straightened her back. She wouldn't let him win. Not now, not ever.

This marriage might have been forced upon her, but she wasn't going to let Conner Todd break her.

The next morning, the soft glow of dawn spilled through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. Donna hadn't slept a wink. She spent most of the night pacing, her mind running in circles as she tried to figure out a way out of this mess.

A knock on the door broke her from her thoughts.

"Donna," came Conner's voice, smooth yet commanding. "We have breakfast in ten. Don't make me wait."

She rolled her eyes, her fingers tightening around the satin robe she had wrapped over her nightgown. The nerve of him.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, where Conner was waiting for her. He was already dressed in a tailored gray suit, his hair neatly combed, and his expression as cold and unreadable as ever.

"You could've sent a text," she said flatly, brushing past him.

"You don't answer texts," he replied, falling into step beside her.

Donna didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, she focused on the layout of the penthouse as they walked. Every detail, every corner. She didn't know how, but she would find a way to escape this gilded cage.

They entered the dining room, where a lavish breakfast spread awaited them. Freshly baked croissants, a variety of fruits, smoked salmon, and eggs cooked to perfection. Donna didn't trust it for a second.

Conner sat at the head of the table and gestured for her to take the seat beside him. She hesitated for a moment before sitting down, her movements stiff and deliberate.

"Eat," he said simply, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"I'm not hungry."

He looked up at her, his expression blank but his tone sharp. "Eat."

The way he said it made her bristle, but she grabbed a piece of toast anyway, if only to avoid another confrontation. She took a small bite, her eyes narrowing at him.

"Is this how it's going to be?" she asked, her voice low but cutting. "You barking orders, me pretending to listen?"

Conner leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving hers. "You'll learn to listen eventually."

She laughed, a bitter sound. "Keep dreaming."

He smirked, but there was no humor in it. "You're feisty. I like that. But let me give you some advice, Donna. In my world, disobedience gets you killed."

Her appetite vanished, her stomach churning. But she refused to let him see her fear. "Good thing I don't plan on staying in your world for long."

His smirk widened, but his eyes darkened. "We'll see about that."

Donna set the toast down and pushed her chair back. "If you're done threatening me, I have better things to do with my time."

Conner's voice followed her as she walked away. "Better things? Like plotting your escape?"

She stopped in her tracks, her heart racing, but she didn't turn around. "If I were you, Conner, I'd watch my back. You might be the one who needs to escape."

For the first time, she thought she heard a genuine laugh from him, low and rich. "I think I'm going to enjoy this marriage more than I thought."

She didn't respond. She didn't need to. Her defiance spoke louder than words as she walked away, her resolve hardening with every step.

Let him think he was in control. Let him think he'd won.

She'd make him regret underestimating her.