Chapter 3 Something was shifting between them

Nayara woke to the sound of rain pattering softly against the grand windows of her gilded prison. The dim morning light filtered through the heavy velvet drapes, casting long, eerie shadows on the walls. For a moment, she lay still, letting herself believe-just for a second-that she was back home, in the comfort of her old life.

But the cold reality sank in as soon as she turned her head. The unfamiliar luxury, the grand canopy bed, the scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air-it was a cruel reminder that she was still here.

Still trapped.

She sat up, her body stiff from restless sleep. Every inch of this mansion reeked of power, of a man who controlled her fate like a puppet on a string. Ardian Mahendra Dirgantara.

Even his name felt like a cage.

A sharp knock at the door startled her.

Nayara didn't answer, but the door opened anyway. A maid entered, carrying a silver tray with breakfast-an assortment of fresh fruit, toast, and a steaming cup of black coffee. The woman set it down on the nightstand without meeting Nayara's eyes.

"Mr. Ardian expects you in the dining hall in thirty minutes," she murmured before swiftly exiting the room.

Nayara clenched her fists. She wasn't hungry. She wasn't interested in sitting across from the man who had stolen her freedom. But what choice did she have? Every refusal, every act of defiance, only seemed to amuse him.

She exhaled sharply and stood, grabbing the robe draped over the chair. The silky fabric felt foreign against her skin-too soft, too expensive, too much like something that belonged to a world she was never meant to be part of.

A prisoner dressed in luxury was still a prisoner.

---

The dining hall was as suffocating as ever. A long, polished mahogany table stretched across the grand room, adorned with fresh flowers and golden cutlery. Ardian sat at the head, sipping his morning coffee, utterly composed, as if he hadn't shattered her world days ago.

He glanced up as she entered, dark eyes assessing.

"You're late."

"I didn't realize I was on a schedule," Nayara replied, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "You are now."

She gritted her teeth but said nothing as she took a seat at the farthest end of the table. A maid immediately appeared to pour her coffee, the warm aroma filling the air. Nayara barely touched it.

Ardian leaned back in his chair, watching her with an unsettling calm. "Have you accepted your place yet?"

Nayara's hands curled into fists beneath the table. "I'll never accept being a prisoner."

His smirk didn't falter. "That's unfortunate. It would make things much easier for you."

"Then let me go," she snapped. "If you want to ruin my family, fine. But keeping me here-"

Ardian's expression darkened, amusement vanishing. "No."

Her pulse quickened. "Why? If you hate me so much, why not just let me disappear?"

He was silent for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he set his coffee down and stood, walking toward her.

Nayara stiffened as he stopped beside her chair, his presence overwhelming.

"Because," he murmured, voice low, "destroying you is far more satisfying than letting you go."

Her breath hitched, but she refused to look away.

"You're a monster," she whispered.

Ardian chuckled, a slow, dark sound that sent a chill down her spine. "I never claimed to be anything else."

Then, just as quickly as he had approached, he stepped back.

"Finish your breakfast," he ordered. "We have business to discuss."

Business?

Nayara stared at him, wary. "What are you talking about?"

Ardian returned to his seat, clasping his hands together. "You didn't think I'd just let you waste away in this house, did you? If you're going to stay here, you're going to earn your keep."

Her stomach twisted. "Earn my keep?"

"You're going to work for me," he stated simply.

Nayara laughed bitterly. "You expect me to willingly work for the man who kidnapped me?"

"I expect you to do as you're told," Ardian corrected, his voice edged with warning. "Or I can make things much harder for you."

Her jaw clenched. "And if I refuse?"

His smirk returned. "Then you'll stay locked in this house indefinitely, with nothing but silence and solitude for company."

Nayara's heart pounded. She had spent the past few days fighting against his control, but deep down, she knew he had the upper hand. He had stripped her of everything-her family, her freedom, even her dignity.

If she wanted to survive this, she needed to be smart.

"I'll do it," she said finally, forcing the words out. "But I won't be your puppet."

Ardian raised an eyebrow. "We'll see."

---

The office was cold, impersonal-much like the man who owned it. Nayara stood stiffly in the center of the room as Ardian leaned against his desk, watching her with quiet amusement.

"You'll start as my personal assistant," he said. "You'll handle paperwork, schedule my meetings, and ensure everything runs smoothly."

Nayara's lips pressed into a thin line. "You already have a team for that."

"Yes," Ardian agreed. "But none of them are you."

A shiver ran down her spine at the way he said it.

This wasn't just about a job. It was another power play, another way for him to keep her under his control.

She swallowed her pride and squared her shoulders. "Fine. But I won't cater to your every whim."

Ardian smirked. "We'll see about that."

The days that followed were grueling. Ardian's expectations were impossibly high, his demands relentless. He worked her to exhaustion, barely allowing her time to breathe.

But Nayara refused to break.

She learned quickly, absorbing everything she could about his empire-the investments, the business deals, the cutthroat negotiations. If Ardian noticed how fast she was adapting, he didn't say anything.

Instead, he tested her.

Pushed her.

Challenged her.

And each time, she met him head-on.

But what unsettled her the most wasn't the work.

It was him.

The way he watched her. The way his eyes lingered when he thought she wasn't looking. The way his anger softened-just slightly-when she challenged him.

She didn't understand it.

And she didn't trust it.

---

One evening, after another long day, Nayara finally let herself collapse onto her bed. Her body ached, exhaustion pressing down on her like a weight.

But just as she closed her eyes, there was a knock at her door.

She sighed. "What now?"

The door opened, and Ardian stepped inside.

Her heart stuttered.

He had never come to her room before.

She sat up quickly, pulling the blanket around her. "What do you want?"

Ardian didn't answer right away. He moved toward the window, gazing out at the city skyline beyond.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"Why don't you ask me what I really want, Nayara?"

Her throat went dry.

He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "You fight me at every turn. You refuse to bend, even when you know it's pointless."

Nayara swallowed hard. "I won't break."

Ardian stepped closer. "Then why do I get the feeling that you already have?"

She froze.

His words cut deeper than she wanted to admit.

Because the truth was... he wasn't entirely wrong.

This wasn't just about survival anymore.

Something was shifting between them.

And it terrified her.