His gaze shifted to Sylvia.
A spark there.
Interest.
Possession.
“Good,” he murmured.
Sylvia felt something crack inside her.
They were discussing her like a business investment.
A volatile stock.
“I’m not an object,” she said sharply.
Kai stepped closer.
“No,” he agreed softly. “You’re a problem.”
“And what do you do with problems?” she challenged.
His eyes darkened.
“I solve them.”
He dismissed Iris with a subtle nod.
She left without protest.
Alone again.
Kai circled her slowly, like a predator assessing prey that refused to lie down.
“You tried to escape yesterday,” he said.
Her pulse spiked.
“I tested the railing.”
“You calculated the drop.”
Silence.
He smiled faintly.
“I admire that.”
“Then let me go.”
“No.”
The word was final.
Her composure cracked.
“Why?” she demanded. “Why keep me here? You exposed me. You won.”
His jaw tightened.
“This isn’t about winning.”
“Then what is it about?”
He stopped in front of her.
Close.
Too close.
“It’s about control,” he said quietly.
Honest.
Terrifyingly honest.
“You can’t control me.”
His thumb brushed lightly over her jaw.
Not tender.
Claiming.
“I already do.”
Her breath faltered.
She hated that her body reacted to proximity even as her mind screamed.
“I would rather die than belong to you,” she whispered.
His gaze didn’t waver.
“That can be arranged.”
The calmness of it froze her blood.
He wasn’t threatening.
He was stating a fact.
A flicker of fear slipped through her control.
He saw it.
He always saw it.
But instead of exploiting it, he stepped back.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “you’ll have twenty minutes upstairs.”
Hope flared before she could stop it.
He noticed.
And smiled.
That was the cruelty.
Hope.
Then withdrawal.
The next day, when she complied without resistance, he rewarded her.
The day after that, he canceled it without explanation.
She broke a glass.
He said nothing.
He returned her father’s watch.
She cried when he left.
She hated herself for it.
Days blurred.
Her anger dulled at the edges, replaced by something worse.
Dependency.
The sky became currency.
His presence became oxygen.
And she despised that part of herself more than she despised him.
One night, after another revoked “reward,” she collapsed against the bedroom door and slid to the floor.
Her reflection in the dark screen of the television looked unfamiliar.
Not the heiress.
Not the avenger.
Just a woman in a cage.
The elevator hummed.
She didn’t look up.
Footsteps approached.
Kai stopped in front of her.
“You didn’t eat dinner,” he said.
Silence.
He crouched down, bringing himself level with her.
“Are you done fighting?”
Her laugh was hollow.
“You’d like that.”
His fingers tilted her chin upward.
Her eyes were rimmed red.
She hadn’t meant to let him see.
“I don’t want you broken,” he said quietly.
The statement stunned her.
“Then what do you want?”
His gaze burned into hers.
“I want you aware.”
“Of what?”
“That you’re here because I allow it.”
The final thread inside her snapped.
She shoved his hand away.
“I will never thank you. I will never choose you. I will never—”
He kissed her.
Hard.
Not gentle.
Not romantic.
A collision.
Shock stole her breath.
For a split second, she froze.
Then she pushed him back violently.
“Don’t,” she hissed.
His chest rose and fell steadily.
“I told you,” he said softly, “you fascinate me.”
She wiped her mouth, eyes blazing.
“I despise you.”
A dark smile curved his lips.
“I know.”
He stood.
Walked toward the elevator.
Left her shaking on the floor.
And for the first time since the cage closed around her, Sylvia Bennett felt something far more dangerous than fear.
Not love.
Never that.
But the terrifying awareness that her hatred no longer felt clean.
And that was exactly how he intended it.
The breaking point didn’t arrive with a scream.
It arrived with silence.
Sylvia stopped fighting on a Tuesday.
No shattered glass.
No screaming matches.
No desperate attempts at clawing past Gavin when the elevator doors opened.
She woke up, sat up, and asked for coffee.
Black.
Kai noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
He always noticed.
When he stepped into the underground suite that evening, she was seated on the couch, legs tucked neatly beneath her, father’s watch resting loose around her wrist.