Helen’s POV

The soft light from the chandelier washed over the room as I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the nightgown Troy had bought for me earlier. It shimmered faintly under the light ... thin, silky, and far too revealing for my liking but it brings out my shape well.

I didn’t even know why I put it on. Maybe curiosity. Maybe confusion.

I sighed and looked at my reflection. “What are you even doing here, Helen?” I whispered.

My fingers brushed the fabric at my shoulder. I couldn’t stop thinking about the day ... the store, the dresses, the way his eyes had darkened when he saw me. I’d never felt so exposed, so seen, and yet so invisible at the same time.

Then, without a knock, the door swung open.

Troy Stones strode in, his presence filling the room like a gust of wind. He had a file in one hand and that same unreadable expression on his face.

My heart jumped. “Ever heard of knocking?” I snapped, grabbing the edge of the blanket to cover myself.

His gaze flicked briefly over me, calm, cold, unapologetic. “I don’t need to knock,” he said, walking toward me. “This is my house. And right now, you’re in my room ...my property.”

The word property stung more than I wanted it to.

“Troy,” I warned, clutching the blanket tighter.

He ignored me, sitting casually on the bed and opening the file. “Sign it,” he said simply, sliding the papers toward me.

I stared at him. “You came in here just to order me around again?”

His eyes lifted to mine, sharp and steady. “You knew this was coming. It’s the contract. You’ll stay under my care for two months... as agreed.”

I hesitated. The paper looked innocent enough, but I knew it wasn’t. It was a reminder that my life wasn’t mine anymore ... that I’d traded my freedom for survival.

“Fine,” I muttered, standing and walking closer. The blanket slipped slightly from my shoulder, and I caught his eyes on my body ... only for a moment ... before his expression hardened again.

I picked up the pen and signed. The room was so quiet I could hear my heartbeat.

When I looked up, his gaze was on me again ...colder than ever, yet burning with something unspoken.

He stood, closing the distance between us. “Good,” he said quietly. “Now you belong to me, Helen.”

I wanted to say something, to argue, but before I could, he reached out and took my wrist roughly ... And gentle at the same time . His eyes searched mine, and for a second, the world seemed to stop.

Then he leaned in , grabbing my neck , he kissed me.

It wasn’t rough but not forced ... just unexpected. His lips were warm and commanding, and for a moment, all my protests vanished. My heart raced; my breath caught. I felt his restraint, the way he was holding himself back, and that made it worse ...and better.

But just when the air grew too heavy, he pulled back.

“Not yet,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Not until you’re ready.”

My lips parted, words caught in my throat. He stepped back, his control returning like a locked door slamming shut.

He reached for the file again and closed it. “Your mother has been transferred to a better hospital,” he said simply, as if it were a casual favor. “She’s in a private VIP room. She’ll have everything she needs.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “You did that?”

He gave a small shrug. “I take care of what’s mine.”

Before I could respond, he turned toward the door. “This night, we leave for a dinner in the next state. Wear the dress from earlier.”

And then, just like that, he was gone ... leaving me standing there, heart pounding, still trying to understand the storm he always left behind.

---

Troy’s POV

I shouldn’t have kissed her.

Every part of me knew that. But the moment she looked up at me ... eyes wide, confused, lips trembling slightly ... I lost control.

It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t pity. It was something else. Something I didn’t want to name.

I walked down the hall, running a hand through my hair. The mansion was quiet, echoing only with my own footsteps. I needed to think ... to get away from her before I did something I’d regret.

But when I opened the door to my room, I froze.

Someone was sitting on my bed.

“Vivian,” I said flatly.

She smiled, her red lips curving perfectly. She was dressed in a glittering gown, long legs crossed, looking every inch the spoiled heiress she was.

“Troy,” she purred, standing and walking toward me. “I’ve missed you.”

I didn’t move. “How did you get in here?”

She brushed a hand along my chest. “Your mother. She said I should come see you. She’s worried. You haven’t called, haven’t visited…”

I caught her wrist before she could touch me again. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Vivian pouted. “Why are you always so cold to me? We used to be good together.”

“We were never anything,” I said sharply. “Our families wanted a merger, not a relationship.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve changed.”

Before I could answer, she leaned in suddenly, pressing her lips to mine.

I stiffened, grabbing her shoulders to push her away ... but then the door opened.

Helen!.

She stood at the doorway, still in that nightgown, her hair falling in waves over her shoulders. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene ... Vivian clinging to me, my hand frozen mid-air.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Helen’s voice broke the silence. “Oh… sorry. I didn’t know the makeup artist was already here.” Her tone cracked slightly, though she tried to hide it. “I’ll just… leave.”

She turned quickly, closing the door behind her.

The sound of the latch clicking made something twist in my chest.

I shoved Vivian away. “Enough. Leave.”

She looked stunned. “Who is she, Troy? Is she why you’ve been ignoring me?”

I didn’t answer. My voice came out cold and final. “Get out, Vivian.”

Her expression darkened. “Your mother will hear about this.”

“Tell her whatever you want,” I said, walking toward the door. “But if you ever come here again uninvited, I won’t be polite.”

Vivian glared at me, then stormed out, her heels clicking angrily on the marble floor.

When the door finally closed behind her, I exhaled slowly, pressing my hand to my temple.

Helen’s hurt expression lingered in my mind.

I didn’t owe her an explanation ... I kept telling myself that ...but the thought of her thinking I wanted Vivian… that burned in a way I couldn’t ignore.

I glanced at the door to her room across the hall.

Not tonight, I told myself.

But deep down, I knew I’d already lost control ...again.