Chapter 3 The Price Of Defiance

ISLA

I didn't sleep.

Not even for a second.

Even in the softness of the bed and the luxury of silk sheets, I felt the weight of that bracelet around my wrist like a shackle made of ice. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. His smile. That terrifying calm that said he meant every twisted word.

"You'll belong to me."

He was serious.

And worse-he had the power to make it true.

I stared at the window. I already knew it didn't open. But maybe I'd missed something. A crack in the glass. A vent. A weakness.

I searched for hours.

Nothing.

By sunrise, I had a plan-not a great one, not even a good one-but it was something. I'd find an opening. Somewhere. Anywhere. And if that bracelet shocked me, fine. I'd rather feel pain than let him tame me.

---

The same maid returned after sunrise. She didn't speak, just placed folded clothes on the bed and left like a ghost.

I threw on the leggings and hoodie she brought. No dress this time. Maybe Dominic thought I was less dangerous when I didn't look like a gift-wrapped fantasy.

He was wrong.

I padded through the long hallway quietly, keeping close to the walls. The bracelet didn't beep. No shock. No alarm.

Yet.

I reached the staircase, heart thudding in my chest like a ticking bomb. I had no idea where it led. Maybe a courtyard. Maybe more guards. Maybe another cage.

But I had to try.

I crept down the stairs.

Halfway through, I saw a hallway with light streaming through a glass door. Beyond it-green. Trees. Sky. Freedom.

I didn't think.

I sprinted.

My bare feet slapped against the tile as I flung the door open and stepped into the sunlit courtyard. My lungs expanded with fresh air.

And then-shock.

Agony tore through my wrist, lightning burning up my arm and into my shoulder. My knees gave out and I crashed to the ground, gasping.

I could hear the distant beep beep beep of the bracelet losing its mind.

I didn't scream. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

Then I heard footsteps.

Slow. Measured. Deadly.

---

DOMINIC

I let the silence stretch before I spoke.

She was curled up on the ground, her breathing ragged, her hands clenched into the grass like she could anchor herself to something real.

"You made it farther than I thought," I said calmly.

She looked up, eyes blazing.

"Go to hell."

I walked over and crouched beside her. "That's not how this works, Isla. You don't get to run."

"I'm not your fucking property," she growled, still shaking from the shock.

"No," I said. "Not yet. But you will be."

She spat on the grass at my feet.

I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me.

"You want to know what happens to people who disobey me?" I asked softly. "They vanish. Painfully. And I let you off easy this time."

"I don't care," she hissed. "You can kill me, but you'll never break me."

I leaned in until our noses nearly touched.

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you," I whispered. "I'm going to teach you."

She slapped me again.

I laughed.

It was low. Dangerous. Real.

"Good," I said. "I like them with fight."

---

ISLA

He dragged me back inside, not gently.

His grip was strong but not bruising-like he knew the exact amount of force needed to keep me near the edge but never tip me over it.

He didn't speak.

Didn't curse.

Didn't raise his voice.

He simply opened a door to a different room, shoved me inside, and locked it behind him.

This room was smaller. Darker.

No windows.

Only one thing in the center: a single leather chair.

He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, arms crossed.

"What is this?" I asked, breathless.

"Your punishment," he said.

"I already got shocked."

"That was the warning."

He walked toward me, slow and deliberate.

My pulse jumped.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, trying to sound brave.

He reached me and ran a finger down my cheek.

"I'm going to remind you," he said, "that your body already belongs to me. It's your mind that's still resisting. And I'm very patient when it comes to breaking resistance."

He pushed me gently onto the chair.

I tried to stand.

He pressed a hand to my shoulder, firm.

"Stay," he said, voice dropping.

My body betrayed me. It listened.

---

DOMINIC

She didn't realize how far she'd already fallen.

I could see it-the flickers of need, the hunger she tried to deny. She hated me. But she couldn't ignore the pull. That primal magnetism that lived in every defiant woman who secretly wanted to be claimed.

I didn't need to beat her.

I didn't need to shout.

I just needed to show her that even in control... she could want it.

I stepped behind the chair and ran my hands down her arms. Her skin prickled.

She tensed.

"I can feel your heartbeat," I murmured against her neck. "You're scared."

"Of you," she whispered.

"No," I said. "Of yourself."

My lips brushed her ear.

"Because part of you likes this. The danger. The surrender. The loss of control."

She shivered.

"Tell me I'm wrong," I said.

She didn't.

---

ISLA

I hated him.

But my body didn't.

It betrayed me with every shallow breath, every spike in heat as he touched me like he already knew every part of me. I hated how good he smelled. How close he stood.

"I'm not yours," I said, voice shaking.

"But you will be," he whispered.

And then he kissed me.

Hard.

Not gentle. Not romantic. Just claiming.

I tried to push him back, but my hands curled into his shirt instead.

His mouth was sin. Fire. Control.

And I was drowning in it.

When he finally pulled back, I gasped like I'd surfaced from underwater.

He looked down at me, eyes dark with possession.

"You're mine now, Isla," he said softly. "Body first. Mind later."

He left me there, shaking.

And this time... I didn't try to run.

---

DOMINIC

I watched her from the hallway through the one-way glass.

She stayed in the chair long after I left, her eyes wide, her breathing erratic.

Good.

She was learning.

The cage wasn't always bars and chains.

Sometimes, it was a kiss you couldn't forget.

---

ISLA

I didn't understand what was happening to me.

One moment I hated him. The next, I was melting under his touch.

It didn't make sense.

I wasn't weak.

I wasn't submissive.

So why did a part of me crave him?

Why did I remember the way his hands felt like safety and danger all at once?

I curled up in the chair and closed my eyes.

My chest ached.

Not from the shock.

But from confusion.

I couldn't fall for a monster.

Right?1