"And if I refuse?"
"Then nothing changes. You stay in this room. I continue to visit. We continue our dance of resistance and persistence. Until something breaks."
"Me," I said bitterly. "You mean until I break."
He shook his head. "Not necessarily. I'm not as unbreakable as you might think."
The admission surprised me—a crack in his perfect control, a glimpse of vulnerability I hadn't expected.
"I need time," I said finally. "To think. To process."
He nodded, accepting this. "Take all the time you need. I'll have dinner sent up later."
He turned to leave, then paused, looking back at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "One more thing, Grace. Whatever you decide, whatever happens between us, know this: I will never trade you. Never use you as a bargaining chip. Never treat you as anything less than essential."
With that, he closed the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts, my grief, and the shattered remains of everything I'd believed about my place in the world.
I sank onto the bed, too numb even for tears now. My father had abandoned me. My family hadn't looked for me. The life I'd built, the identity I'd crafted so carefully—it had all been an illusion, a house of cards that had collapsed at the first real test.
And Rafe... Rafe had shown me the truth. Cruel, perhaps, but honest in a way no one in my life had ever been.
I lay back on the silk sheets, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of a world that had tilted on its axis. Everything I'd believed was wrong. Everyone I'd trusted had failed me.
Except, perversely, the man who had taken me against my will.
What did that say about me? About my life? About the choices—or lack thereof—that lay before me?
I had no answers. Only questions, doubts, and a growing sense that the line between captor and savior, between villain and hero, was far blurrier than I'd ever imagined.
As the light faded from the windows and darkness crept into the room, one thought crystallized with terrible clarity:
I had never truly belonged to anyone—not as a daughter, not as a sister, not as a person of value.
Only as a possession.
And in the twisted logic of my new reality, at least Rafe Conti was honest about wanting to possess me.
14
GRACE
Three days after learning my father had abandoned me, Rafe gave me the run of the estate.
"Within reason," he'd clarified, standing in my doorway with an expression I couldn't quite read. "The grounds, the library, the music room. Not my office, not the security wing, not beyond the gates."
Still a prison, then. Just a larger, more luxurious one.
I'd nodded, too numb to argue, too exhausted to fight. The revelation about my father had hollowed me out, leaving an empty space where certainty used to live. Nothing made sense anymore. Not my past, not my present, certainly not my future.
"There will be guards," Rafe continued, watching me carefully. "Not to intimidate you. For your protection."
"From what?" I'd asked, my voice flat. "Who's going to hurt me here, in your fortress?"
He'd hesitated, something flickering in his dark eyes. "There are... complications. People who might not understand my interest in you. People who might see you as leverage rather than..."
"Rather than what?" I'd pressed when he didn't finish.
"Rather than precious," he'd said finally, the word hanging between us like a confession.
