Chapter 2 Two

Chapter Two

The ride to the mansion felt longer the second time.

Yesterday, I’d barely noticed anything beyond the weight of the contract in my hand and the dull ache in my chest after leaving Lena’s hospital room. Today, I couldn’t stop thinking. About the signature. The ink that bound me. The deal I’d just sold myself into.

Thirty days.

It sounded short on paper. A month. Four weeks.

But sitting in the back of the black car, the trees outside blurring past like dark sentinels, it felt like a lifetime.

When the car finally stopped, I took a deep breath and stepped out. The mansion was just as huge and intimidating as before , towering walls, gothic windows, silence so thick it pressed on my ears.

Jax, the guard from last night, opened the door for me again. He gave a small, teasing grin, like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

I managed a nervous smile before following the housekeeper inside.

She led me through winding hallways until we stopped at a massive oak door.

“Mr. Donovan is expecting you,” she said quietly, then turned and left.

I hesitated.

My stomach churned.

Then I pushed the door open.

Kael sat behind an enormous desk, the late sunlight spilling across him. He wasn’t looking at papers this time , just staring out the tall window, one hand resting against his jaw, the other on a glass of amber liquid.

When his eyes shifted toward me, it felt like being seen and stripped all at once.

“You’re on time,” he said, voice low and even. “That’s good.”

I swallowed. “You said you wanted to see me.”

“I did.” He motioned to the chair opposite him. “Sit.”

The chair felt too soft, the air too heavy.

My palms were already sweating. I could hear the faint tick of a clock somewhere behind him, each sound sharp in the silence.

He leaned back, studying me for a long moment before he spoke.

“Before this arrangement begins, there are rules you will follow.”

Something in the way he said rules made my pulse skip.

“I understand,” I murmured.

“I’m not sure you do,” he replied. “So let’s be clear.”

He set the glass down, his eyes locking on mine , sharp, gray, unblinking.

Every inch of him radiated control.

“Rule number one,” he said. “You will not fall in love with me.”

My lips parted, startled. “Excuse me?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “This is a business arrangement. A contract. You are here to perform a role, nothing more. Don’t mistake physical connection for something else.”

I wanted to laugh , except nothing about him felt funny.

“Trust me, that won’t be a problem.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. “Good. Keep it that way.”

He rose from his chair then, slow and deliberate. Every movement made my heart thud harder. He was tall , taller than I remembered , and when he stopped in front of the desk, the space between us felt too small.

“Rule number two,” he continued, voice lower now. “You will come to me at night. Only at night. My staff will show you the way. No one else will be present.”

The words made heat crawl up my neck.

He said it so plainly, like it was a meeting, not what it truly was.

“Every night?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“Yes,” he said simply. “Every night, unless I say otherwise.”

I looked away, unable to hold his gaze. My heart was beating too fast, my skin tingling with something I didn’t understand , fear, maybe. Or something else.

He circled the desk slowly, his footsteps silent on the marble.

When he stopped behind me, I felt the warmth of his presence even though he didn’t touch me.

“Rule number three,” he said, his breath brushing the back of my neck. “You will eat well and keep yourself healthy. I have no use for someone who starves herself out of guilt or nerves.”

I stiffened, my throat tight.

“Fine,” I whispered.

“And dress appropriately,” he added, voice dropping lower, rougher. “When you come to my room, you will look the part. Seductive. Tempting. Don’t pretend you don’t understand what that means.”

My face burned. “You could have just said that,” I muttered.

He chuckled , quiet, dangerous. “I wanted to be sure you heard me.”

I turned my head slightly, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “You don’t need to humiliate me to make your point.”

“I’m not trying to humiliate you,” he said calmly. “I’m making sure you know the kind of agreement you signed.”

I hated that his tone wasn’t cruel. Just factual.

Like he was stating the weather.

Like this was all normal for him.

“Rule number four,” he said, stepping back slightly. “You will not mingle with any of my men. Not the guards. Not the drivers. Not anyone. During these thirty days, you belong to me. Do you understand?”

The words hit me harder than I expected.

Belong to him.

It sounded possessive , primitive.

“I’m not property,” I said, my voice trembling.

“No,” he said softly. “But for now, you’re mine by choice. You agreed to that when you signed.”

The reminder made my stomach twist. I had signed it , knowing nothing about who he really was. What he was.

“And what about you?” I asked suddenly. “Do you follow any rules?”

That made him smile , slow, dangerous. “You’ll learn my rules as we go.”

I hated the way my pulse reacted to that. The way my body seemed to betray me. I crossed my arms, trying to look unaffected.

He walked back to his desk, picking up his glass again. “Your work starts tomorrow night.”

“So tonight, ”

“You’ll rest. Eat. Get comfortable with the house.” His gaze flickered briefly to my face. “There are clothes in your room. Use them.”

My throat felt dry. “Is that all?”

“For now.”

He turned slightly toward the window again, dismissing me without saying it.

But something in me refused to move.

“You really don’t care, do you?” I said quietly. “About any of this. About me.”

That made him pause.

He didn’t turn around, but I saw his shoulders tense slightly.

“What I care about,” he said after a long silence, “is ending something that should’ve been broken long ago. You help me do that, you get your money. Nothing more.”

“Ending what?” I asked. “What are you trying to break?”

He looked over his shoulder then , and for a moment, his eyes weren’t cold. They were haunted.

“That’s not your concern.”

The air seemed to thicken between us. I wanted to push him further, to ask what kind of man needed a virgin for something that sounded like a ritual, but the look on his face stopped me.

I stood slowly, my legs a little shaky.

“Then I’ll go.”

He nodded once. “Mrs. Blake will show you to your room.”

As I turned to leave, his voice came again , quieter, but sharper somehow.

“Aria.”

I stopped.

“Don’t test me,” he said. “Don’t play innocent. And whatever happens in this house, whatever you see , you will not run.”

A chill slid down my spine.

“Why would I need to run?” I asked.

He smiled faintly, that same unreadable look in his eyes.

“Because people who do… never make it far.”

I didn’t remember walking out of the room , only that my hands were shaking by the time I reached the hall. The housekeeper was waiting, her expression neutral as she guided me upstairs.

My room was beautiful, too beautiful , soft cream curtains, gold lamps, a balcony overlooking the woods. On the bed lay a box tied with black ribbon. Inside were clothes , silk, lace, satin. Nothing I would ever wear on my own.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the box like it might bite me.

Don’t fall in love with me.

Come to me only at night.

Dress seductive.

Stay away from every man.

Thirty days.

Thirty nights.

I told myself I could do this. For Lena. For her life. For the only family I had left.

But as the night fell and I heard distant howls echoing from the forest, a cold fear crept up my spine.

Something told me this wasn’t just a deal.

It was a trap.

And Kael Donovan wasn’t a man I would walk away from untouched.