Chapter 5 Control and defiance

Emily🌹

The room was suffocating.

Not because of its size-massive, grand, overbearing, like everything else in this house.

Because of him.

I sat across from him.

Pulse raging.

Breath tight.

Too tight.

Marco lounged in his chair.

Relaxed. Effortless.

Like this was nothing.

Like I wasn't trapped.

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass-slow, lazy.

Like he owned everything in his reach.

Like he owned me.

My stomach knotted. Tight. Unrelenting.

I didn't know what rattled me more-

The way he moved. Smooth. Controlled. Like he owned the air around him.

Or the way he watched me.

Sharp. Unreadable.

Like he already knew I'd lose.

Like I was already defeated.

I wasn't.

I refused to break.

My fingers dug in. Tighter. Knuckles aching. Nails biting deep, carving into flesh.

A sting. Sharp. Grounding. Real.

He exhaled. Slow. Measured. Like he could taste my resistance on his tongue like he enjoyed it.

Lips twitching-smirk barely there. Mocking. Indulgent.

Then, the glass. A slow tilt. Amber liquid brushed his lips. Ice clinking, soft, sharp, filling the silence stretching too thick between us.

Unbothered. Unmoved.

Like he had all the time in the world to watch me come undone.

Completely at ease.

Like he had already won.

Enjoying this.

Enjoying my tension. My resistance.

Bastard.

His voice cut through the silence, smooth, effortless like it was nothing. Like this was normal.

"I assume you understand why we're here."

Calm. Certain.

Like he already knew the answer. Like my understanding-or lack of it-was irrelevant.

I refused to cower.

"You like hearing yourself talk?"

A glint in his eyes. Dark. Amused.

Then-low laughter. A quiet, knowing sound.

The glass met the table, a soft clink. Controlled. Measured.

"Cute."

The word slid from his lips, smooth, mocking.

Another shift-subtle, deliberate. He leaned in, slow. A predator closing the space between us. Casual. Unhurried. Taking his time.

But his eyes-cutting, relentless-caught me. Held me fast.

Held me.

Trapped.

"But no," he murmured, voice smooth. Effortless. A mask over something far sharper. Far deadlier. "I prefer clarity."

Clarity.

I hated how effortlessly he controlled the conversation.

Hated that even now-trapped, cornered-I felt like the intruder in his world.

My spine snapped straight. Heart pounding-fast, furious.

I locked onto his gaze. Cold. Unflinching. Refusing to waver.

My pulse pounded, but my voice stayed sharp. Steady. A blade between us.

"If you think I'll thank you for this," I bit out, each word laced with defiance, "you'll be waiting forever."

A slow smirk.

It didn't reach his eyes.

"I don't expect gratitude, Emily."

His voice was smooth, and patient.

"I expect obedience."

My breath hitched.

Obedience.

Like I was something to be tamed.

Like he was waiting for me to break.

I forced my expression into something cold, neutral.

But he saw it.

Of course, he did.

Watching. Measuring. Peeling me apart piece by piece.

Not annoyed. Not impatient.

Satisfied.

He liked that I was barely holding back.

I swallowed hard.

"Let's make this simple," he murmured.

He lifted a single finger.

"One. You will obey me."

A slow crawl of heat over my skin.

Tight. Suffocating.

He tilted his head, voice smooth. Too smooth. A trap hidden in silk.

"You are not a prisoner."

My stomach twisted. A lie never sounded so gentle.

"Not technically."

A beat of silence.

Then-the trap.

"But you belong to me now. And I expect you to act accordingly."

My breathing grew shallow.

"You're delusional," I bit out. "If you think I'll just accept this-"

"You don't have to accept it."

He said.

His eyes darkened.

"You just have to live it."

My nails bit into my skin.

I would not break.

---

*MARCO*

She was trying so damn hard to hide it.

The panic.

The rage.

The desperate, furious need to claw at the walls of her fate.

And fuck-I loved it.

She wasn't meek.

Wasn't weak.

And that made this so much more interesting.

I watched her nails press into her skin, her body locked tight, every muscle screaming to run-to fight.

But she didn't.

She sat there.

Endured.

Most people cracked within minutes.

Some never even made it this far.

But Emily?

Emily was fighting.

Even now, when she had no real power, no real control-she refused to surrender.

It made my blood hum.

Made my patience stretch thin.

"Two," I continued, lifting another finger.

"You will not leave this house without my permission."

Her breath hitched.

There it was.

Panic flashed in her gaze before she swallowed it down and smothered it.

I almost laughed.

God, she was a work of art.

"So I am a prisoner."

Her voice was sharp.

A challenge.

Good.

I tilted my head slightly, watching her.

Then I leaned in, voice dropping lower.

Darker.

"You're my wife."

She flinched.

Perfect.

Her lips parted slightly, breath-catching-

She hated that word.

He hated me.

I filed that away.

"Under my protection," I murmured.

She let out a cold, bitter laugh.

"And this is safe?"

I didn't blink.

"Safer than the alternative."

She stiffened.

I caught the flicker in her eyes-the briefest hesitation.

Fear.

Not me.

Of something else.

Something out there.

A slow smirk curved my lips.

She had no idea.

No idea how deep this went.

How much she had been thrown into a war she didn't even know existed.

And she thought she could fight me?

Adorable.

I exhaled slowly.

Lifted a third finger.

"Three."

My voice cooled.

Softer now.

More dangerous.

"Loyalty is not optional."

Her pulse spiked.

I could see it.

Feel it in the air between us.

"You are mine."

A small tremor ran through her.

She hated it.

"You will not betray me."

A beat.

"You will not defy me in ways that matter."

She swallowed.

For the first time, she was still.

I leaned in, slow, deliberate.

Close enough to catch the faintest trace of her scent.

"If I ever suspect disloyalty..."

Her breath shuddered.

"You will regret it."

Silence.

Heavy. Thick.

She was still holding on.

Still fighting.

Fuck.

I leaned back, letting the moment.

Then, just as quickly-

The smirk returned.

Easy. Amused.

Like none of that had happened.

Like I hadn't just laid a collar around her throat.

She wanted to snap.

Wanted to scream, to throw something-to hurt me.

I could see it.

But she didn't.

Instead-

She breathed.

Forced herself to think.

Smart girl.

If she was going to play this game, she needed to be careful.

But she wasn't going to bow.

Not yet.

She lifted her chin.

"You're very sure of yourself," she murmured.

I studied her, amusement behind my eyes.

"I have every reason to be."

A pause.

Then-

She leaned in.

Mirroring me.

Letting her words drop-quiet but sharp.

"Maybe you should start expecting the unexpected."

Silence.

And then-

A chuckle.

A slow, genuine laugh.

Perfect.

She had no idea what she had just done.

No idea how much more fun this had just become.

I smirked.

"Good," I murmured, dark eyes gleaming.

"I like a challenge."

She had just become my favorite game.

And she didn't even know it yet.