Chapter 8 - Daria
I had no words...not while his intentions burned into my skin like a hot iron.
As pure shock moved through my system, I could only gape at him, wondering for a moment if he was even being serious.
He couldn't be. There was no way.
After all of his anger...his clear disdain for me. I refused to believe that after everything, his grand plan culminated to this point—us getting hitched.
Why would he possibly want that?
Even trying to rationalize it in my head made me feel almost dizzy.
But I shook my head the longer I looked at him and saw how completely serious he seemed.
"No..." I mumbled, unable to accept it for even a moment. "You don't mean that."
But the slightest pull of his lips said otherwise while Ivan looked at me with a touch of condescension surrounding him. "I entirely mean it."
Whether it was the confirmation or the smugness in his grin, it didn't matter. It set me off all the same.
"Absolutely not," I returned, raising my voice and not bothering to hold back anymore. "I won't allow it!"
I expected Ivan to lose his cool in return, but he only kept those cold, dark eyes on me for a moment longer before speaking.
"That's too bad. I don't care what you think or feel about it, and I certainly won't let that stop me."
Everything in me was screaming for him to take it back...to admit he was bluffing or that it was a mistake, but from what I could tell, he wouldn't accept otherwise.
I could feel more of that rage flooding my system, pushing so completely against what he was trying to force on me. "So what, you'll just force my hand? You'll make me go through with it despite knowing how much I don't want it?"
He studied me for a moment before giving me an apathetic look. "You should be happy, Daria...anyone else in your situation would probably be dead by now."
My incredulous expression was scalding. "Happy? You think I should thank you for this?"
That irritating grin returned to his lips while he leaned in slightly. That glimmer in his eyes seemed to confirm it without him needing to utter a word. "Yes...you're quite lucky to be stuck with me...and I'm going to take great pleasure in watching you suffer day in and day out."
The bitter sincerity that seemed to wrap around those words felt more suffocating by the second, and I couldn't find the words needed to express just how devastating that was. To convey how simultaneously angry and terrified the prospect made me.
Ivan studied me closely, as if I were nothing more than an experiment, making my skin crawl. His previous smugness slipped into a more serious demeanor.
"Whether you like it or not, I've decided it's final. And just so you're aware, this is how things will go moving forward..."
My stomach twisted into knots, and I could only look at him from across the table. The frantic beat of my heart roared in my ears.
"Listen carefully...I'll allow you to roam the house, but you'll be monitored closely. I have cameras everywhere and employees who won't hesitate to intervene if necessary. So you'd better not try to run." After the words left him, he paused with consideration before humming and smirking. "On second thought...feel free to do so. I'll enjoy choosing your punishment. Either way, regardless of what you want, you'll get your comeuppance, Daria."
Every word felt more damning than the last, and despite being frozen on the spot in complete disbelief, it felt like a fire had been lit beneath my feet. Pure panic ebbed into my skin and covered me like a burn.
I still couldn't believe it. He, of all people, wanted to force me into marriage despite how much he hated me. Either there was something severely wrong with him, or there was something else to the plan that I didn't know yet. Either way, he was insane.
As much as I didn't want to provoke him in the moment, I couldn't stand the panic and need to run. To escape those ridiculous plans he had for me.
Burning with rage and feeling like I was on the precipice of freaking out so completely, I pushed up from the chair. I couldn't hear any more of it. Not when he was condemning me to a life of misery, all because he was still mad about how I helped my brother. That idea seemed so absurd, but there was no other possible explanation.
As insane as it sounded to me, I had to remind myself that he and his brothers were a different breed. They did things, outrageous and even things they didn't want to do, all to get ahead in one way or another.
He likely didn't want to marry me, but somehow, he had a reason to justify it. I didn't want to know what those reasons were.
Before I could get even five steps away from the table, I halted in my place and narrowly missed colliding with a wall of solid muscle dressed up in a black suit. Glancing up, I realized the man was much taller than me, and with his sunglasses on, his expression was unreadable.
I pulled in a breath, pinned to my place.
"That's Dom...get well acquainted with him. He'll be your security detail. Rather, keeping you securely in your place."
Something about those words struck a chord within me. Like that final piece of my patience snapped.
I turned around, eyes wide as I shouted at him, "You can't do this to me—you can't!"
Before I knew it, I lunged forward, wanting nothing more than to show him I wasn't worth the time and effort.
My momentum stopped the moment Ivan nodded subtly, and a strong arm curled around my waist. Frozen in place, I squirmed, trying to slip out of Dom's grasp.
But of course, he was much bigger and stronger than me. Instead, he hauled me over like I was nothing more than a sack of flour, reminiscent of what Ivan had done.
Growling my anger, letting it all out, I fought and thrashed regardless of how fruitless of an attempt it was.
Ivan said nothing while I made a scene, shouting and kicking while I was carried inside like a petulant child.
Regardless of how I resisted it, Dom seemed completely unbothered while he moved me up the stairs, down the hall, and straight towards the bedroom.
Another flicker of panic and dread ripped through me at the idea. Even if I didn't want to be near Ivan, I didn't want to be locked in there, either. Not when I didn't know how long I'd be stuck for.
But Dom easily crossed the room, dropped me onto the bed, then turned around and headed for the door again.
My heart raced through my fury and fear while I gathered myself, watching as he went to leave.
"Wait..." I heaved out, getting to my feet again. I hurried after him. "Please, help me—"
Not even stopping to spare me a glance, Dom pulled the door closed behind him, locking me in again.
As that brutal realization hit me, I stopped right at the door, leaning my forearms against it while I pulled in shaky breaths.
"No..." I murmured, sniffling while the emotions got the better of me. Those frustrated tears burned my eyes, and I screamed, banging my fists against the door, "No!"
Everything was hazy while I saw only red, hitting the door over and over until my arms hurt and my throat went raw.
I didn't care if I looked or sounded crazy.
Ivan was keeping me just to marry me...all to teach me some kind of lesson. He was forcing me into a life-altering decision without even a crumb of my consent.
I went from being controlled by my brother to the man who wanted nothing more than to make me hurt every day, and that thought was crushing.
I couldn't remember how or when I stopped yelling and banging on the door, but the pounding headache raged behind my eyes and in my temples while I crawled over to the bed.
Everything ached. I was completely worn out from head to toe, and even laying out on the soft mattress didn't help right away.
But one way or another, my chaos quieted down to shaky breaths and sniffles while I closed my eyes and eventually dozed off, unable to even think about Ivan or his damning plans.
***
I didn't know how much time had passed, but when I opened my eyes to still feel that dull pain in my head, I could still see the sun coming in through the windows.
Groaning to myself, I rubbed my eyes and slowly sat up while I regained awareness. While everything came flooding back, I had no choice but to face it.
I was still in that godforsaken room. Still forced to be there under Ivan's roof against my will.
Upon glancing to my left, I found a glass of water on the nightstand, along with a blue post-it note and a small red pill sitting on top.
Blinking my grogginess away, I reached over for the note and the pill.
In neat cursive, it read:
For the headache. –V
At least there was one considerate staff member employed by Ivan. She seemed to be the only redeemable person in the whole place.
With a sigh, I grabbed the painkiller, popped it in my mouth, and took a swig of the water. Swallowing it back, I drank some more to soothe my dry throat, then slowly pulled myself out of bed.
I was sore from freaking out earlier, and whatever hope I had left of escaping Ivan and his plans seemed to simmer away. It seemed so impossible then, especially knowing the compromising position he wanted me in.
None of it made any sense to me, and I wasn't sure if I'd ever fully understand his motives.
But I went to the door on a whim, wondering if Ivan would at least keep his word about letting me roam the house. Reaching a hand out, I turned the handle, only to find no resistance waiting for me. Instead, the door opened, and as fleeting as it was, the tiniest flicker of hope returned to me.
Cautiously, I stepped into the hallway and stopped to listen. Despite the number of employees Ivan had, the whole house was surprisingly quiet. And seemingly empty.
I didn't know if that worked in my favor or not, but either way, I was prepared to take advantage of it.
I moved carefully through the house, almost like I was afraid of disturbing that suspicious peace. All the while, I took in the minimalistic yet chic décor—all of which spoke to how much money he had but suggested the furnishings and overall layout of his home were an afterthought. He didn't strike me as someone who put much thought into interior design.
Moving down the stairs and into the front foyer, noticing one of the guards standing outside the front door, I veered to the right and kept going until I heard the quiet mumble of voices and felt a subtle breeze.
Curious, I peered into the kitchen full of marble and pristine stainless steel appliances to find a side door propped open. While I peered inside, the voices drew closer as presumably the chef stepped inside and led a deliveryman into a room off to the side, arms full of produce and various items to cook with.
They disappeared for some time, and all the while, my eyes never left that unlocked, open door.
It was far too tempting to pass up.
I had no plan. No thoughts beyond reaching that door.
Instead, I just went for it, speed walking towards in, silently hoping for the chef and delivery man to stay in that room long enough for me to slip out.
The moment my foot reached the threshold, able to taste near freedom, I felt like a rabbit slipping from its cage. Bolting for the chance to get as far away from its captivity as possible.
The air was knocked from my chest the moment I collided with him. I sucked in a breath at the feeling of his hard chest against me and beneath my palms before pulling back and looking up at him. Fear cracked through my system and immediately sucked that hope out of me all over again.
Ivan looked down at me with a stern expression, having already pieced together what I was doing. He reached for my wrist as I pulled it away, and despite the taunting gleam in his features, his touch was softer than I expected.
"And where do you think you're going, little prisoner?"
The words made me swallow hard, aware of the position I just put myself in. Aware that he caught me, and I had no idea what punishment was ahead of me for trying to leave.
When my throat was too closed up to manage the words, he narrowed his eyes at me and let them rake over me for another moment before scoffing.
"It doesn't matter...but I hope you'll behave for me," he murmured, gaze scalding and giving off a contrast to his deceiving words. "Be prepared for our elopement tomorrow."
Something about him assigning a date to his ridiculous plan sent another rush of panic through me, only solidifying it more for me. It felt all too real. Too serious.
While I silently gaped at him, I wanted to believe he was bluffing. I wanted to assume he was just trying to get a rise out of me.
But something about his serious expression told me otherwise. He was entirely serious, and that was the scariest part.
My heart sank, and every part of me just wanted to shrink and hide.