Chapter 9 – Jennie
I step out onto the terrace, the morning air crisp against my skin, a sharp contrast to the wildfire still burning in my chest. The mug of coffee in my hands is still full—lukewarm now—but I hold onto it anyway, something to ground me.
Something to clutch while I pretend I’m still in control of something… anything.
I feel like I’ve just walked away from a storm, but the storm is still inside me. His words echo in my head.
“You belong to me now.”
The arrogance. The fury. The dark, brutal claim of it.
I should hate him for it. God, I do hate him for it.
And yet…I can still feel the weight of his gaze. Still feel the way my body betrayed me—how my breath caught when he leaned in, how my skin came alive under the fire in his voice.
I wrap my arms tighter around myself and stare out at the estate grounds below, perfectly manicured and cold, like a cage disguised in velvet. Just like this life. Just like him.
I hate that he makes me feel like this—humiliated, angry…and worse, aroused.
I shouldn’t want anything from a man like Adrian Rusnak.
But somewhere deep down, underneath all the fear and rage, is a part of me that remembers the way he looked at me. Not like I was his prisoner.
Like I was his obsession. Like I was already his.
And that’s the part that terrifies me the most. I should not be accustomed to this life. It’s so much like the criminal documentaries I used to watch. Used to. That part of my life is gone. Buried.
I grip the edge of the terrace wall tighter, my knuckles white against the porcelain mug. I stare ahead, but my thoughts keep circling back to him—Adrian. His voice. His touch. His eyes burning through me like I’m the only thing in the world he wants to keep.
And that’s the problem.
He wants me. He wants to own me. Chain me to him like a possession, a prize. He doesn’t ask. He takes.
But if he just—God—if he just treated me like a person. If he spoke to me like someone with a choice…if he didn’t try to crush my will every time I dared to fight back….
If he didn’t lock me in and strip away every inch of my freedom like it was some punishment—
Maybe I wouldn’t want to run. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so shaken, so desperate to claw my way out.
Doesn’t he see that?
I press the mug to my lips, not to drink, but just to stop the scream in my throat. My heart is still pounding from our fight in the dining room. From the heat in his eyes when he told me I belonged to him.
I know he wants me. I know he thinks he’s keeping me safe in his twisted, terrifying way.
But I’m not safe like this. Not when I feel like I’m losing myself in the middle of it all.
An alert sounds across the estate—a low, mechanical hum followed by the heavy groan of the main gates sliding open. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat as I lean forward slightly over the wrought-iron railing of the terrace.
Below, the estate shifts. Guards appear from nowhere, falling into quiet formation. The crisp snap of movement, the distant shuffle of boots, the soft static of radios—all of it blends with the stillness of morning. And then I see them.
Three black cars roll in through the gates. No pause for clearance. No inspection. The guards don’t stop them. They know whoever is inside.
Which means…it’s a friend of Adrian’s.
The cars are glossy, tinted, and dangerous-looking—like everything in Adrian’s world. They move like shadows across the driveway, unbothered, unchallenged. The sun reflects off the windshield of the first car, and I squint, trying to see through the dark glass.
I grip the railing tighter. Something shifts in my stomach.
If Adrian isn’t already downstairs waiting, he will be soon. Whoever this is—they’re important.
The lead car halts at the base of the estate steps, and immediately, Adrian’s guards encircle it. Not in a threatening way—more like instinct, trained movement. Protective. Ready.
The back door opens, and a tall, broad-shouldered man steps out. I recognize him instantly from the wedding.
Kazimir.
Kaz.
Adrian’s best friend.
Dark hair, darker eyes, and the kind of face that belongs in both nightmares and fantasies. He’s dressed in a charcoal suit with the jacket unbuttoned, shirt rolled at the sleeves. Calm. Powerful. Dangerous.
Even from the terrace, I feel the ripple of presence that rolls off him.
I turn away from the railing and hurry downstairs, something unsettled shifting in my chest. I don’t know why—I just know something is happening. Something important. I take the stairs two at a time, barefoot and silent.
By the time I reach the hallway, I see Adrian at the door, greeting Kaz with a handshake that lingers too long. It’s not a welcome—it’s an exchange. A conversation without words. Adrian leans in, says something low in Russian, and Kaz nods before glancing around the house.
His eyes scan, his body perfectly still. That’s when he sees me.
And then, he smiles—lazy, confident, the kind that knows it’s dangerous and enjoys it anyway. His fingers flick up in a wave like we’re not standing in the middle of a heavily guarded estate. Like this is a casual Sunday brunch.
I stiffen. My fingers tighten around the edge of my dress, but I don’t break eye contact. I won’t give him—or Adrian—the satisfaction.
Adrian’s eyes, hard and heated, snap straight to me. He looks seconds from breaking someone’s neck.
“Get inside,” he says. Low. Firm. Dangerous.
I don’t move.
My pulse stutters, but I hold my ground. My voice comes out cold, even as my stomach twists. “You don’t get to bark orders at me.”
His jaw clenches. He takes a step toward me, his whole body coiled with fury.
“Jennie.”
One word. A warning.
Kaz lets out a quiet laugh beside him, clearly enjoying the show.
“Inside,” Adrian growls again, his voice like steel wrapped in fire. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
I swallow, pulse thudding in my ears. He doesn’t shout—but he doesn’t need to. There’s a warning laced through every syllable, a barely leashed violence that makes the air around him feel heavier.
Then, without waiting to see if I obey, he turns to Kaz.
“Come on.”
Kaz tosses me a wink before following Adrian into the drawing room like this is all some kind of game. Adrian doesn’t look back, but the last glare he throws over his shoulder hits me like a slap.
I know I should go back.
The look Adrian gave me before stepping into the drawing room was a warning—sharp and serious. His voice had dropped low, cold with command. “Inside,” he said. And then, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Most people would’ve backed off. His glare alone could freeze blood.
But something in me, something reckless and stubborn, refuses to obey.
Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve had every choice ripped out of my hands.
Maybe it’s the quiet ache inside me that needs to know what’s going on behind all these locked doors and unreadable stares.
So I wait until he disappears inside with Kaz, and the guards retreat to their usual posts.
Then I slip out, careful not to make a sound.
My fingers skim the wall for balance as I creep toward the hallway.
The door to the drawing room is shut, but their voices slightly seep through.
I press my back to the wall, holding my breath.
At first, their tone is light. I hear Kaz laugh, a deep chuckle. Adrian’s voice follows—lower, quieter, but still relaxed.
I can almost picture the way they sit, probably with whiskey in hand, Kaz leaning back like he owns the world, Adrian brooding beside him with his unreadable stare.
But then something shifts.
Kaz’s tone drops. The words grow tense, clipped. The laughter stops.
I lean closer, carefully stepping up to the door. I press my palm to the wood, straining to hear. A few words slip through—but it’s muffled and I can’t place them. It frustrates me.
Adrian’s voice turns sharp. Angry, even.
I know I shouldn’t be doing this. He’d be furious if he caught me. But I can’t help it. I need to know what kind of world I’ve married into. I need to know what’s waiting on the other side of all this silence.
And maybe, more than anything, I need to understand the man I’m supposed to call my husband.
Kaz laughs again, and the next time he speaks, surprisingly, his voice is clear.
“I’ve got something, though,” he says.
There’s a pause.
“From the inside?” Adrian asks, his tone rough and clipped, like he’s already bracing himself.
“Yeah. Fresh. Just this morning. And there’s a bounty out now.”
My heart stops.
I press closer, my forehead almost touching the wood of the door. A bounty? On who?
I strain to hear the name, but their voices dip again—too low, too guarded. I clench my fists at my sides. The name never comes.
Who the hell are they hunting now?
Something tells me I don’t want to know. But another part of me—the part that’s already tangled up in Adrian’s world—knows I have to find out.
Before I can press my ear any closer, a quiet voice startles me from behind.
“Mrs. Rusnak.”
I whirl around, pulse jumping. Zalar stands a few feet away, his hands clasped in front of him, expression unreadable. He’s respectful, always is—but his eyes are sharp, and there’s no mistaking the warning in them.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says gently. “This…this isn’t right.”
I cross my arms.
“Your husband is a powerful man. The things discussed behind that door—they’re not meant for you, or for anyone outside of that room.”
I open my mouth to argue, but his gaze softens just slightly.
“I say this with respect, ma’am. Don’t get involved in business that can swallow you whole.”
I feel the cold bite of those words even as he steps back and gestures for me to return down the hall. I hesitate, one last glance toward the closed door. I clench my jaw and step away.
Fighting with Zalar won’t get me anywhere—I know that. He may be polite, but he’s loyal to Adrian, and if I push too hard, I won’t just be locked out of rooms. I might find myself locked away entirely.