Chapter 5- A kiss of possession

The morning of the next day..

Aurora sat behind the long and polished table. The breakfast spread before her untouched. Golden croissants, eggs cooked to perfection, a platter of sliced fruits, and a cup of hot milk sat neatly in front of her. Yet, she had no appetite.

Her chest tightened with worry about her mother’s hospitalization. The deadline had come. If she could not pay the down payment this morning, the hospital would discharge her mother.

She clutched the fabric of her dress under the table, gathering her courage before speaking.

"I need to go to the hospital today."

Across from her, Grayson continued scrolling through emails on his phone, seemingly unaffected by her words. Dressed in a crisp black shirt, his sleeves rolled up slightly, revealing strong forearms, he exuded effortless power. Even in silence, his presence dominated the room.

Seconds passed before he finally set his phone down. His steel-gray eyes met hers— cold and piercing.

"You cannot leave."

Aurora stiffened. "I have to. If I do not make the payment, they will discharge my mother. She will not have anywhere to go." Her voice wavered slightly, tinged with distress.

Grayson lifted his coffee cup, taking a slow sip before replying. "I already took care of it."

Her breath wobbled. "What?"

"I had someone settle the payment early this morning," he said simply, as if it was nothing. "Your mother will continue to receive treatment."

Aurora stared at him, shock washing over her. "Why..." She caught herself, exhaling shakily. "Why would you do that?"

Grayson set his cup down, his gaze sharp. "Because you belong to me now. Have you already forgotten?"

His tone was bland, but the weight of his words pressed down on her like iron shackles.

He was not offering kindness. This was not charity at all. It was ownership.

She swallowed hard, her fingers clenching into small fists on her lap. "Then… can I go see her?"

His expression remained unchanged. "No."

Aurora’s heart sank. "But…"

"You will not leave this estate unless I allow it," he said, his voice absolute. "You can see your mother, but not today."

The walls felt like they were closing in. He had saved her mother, but at what cost? She had traded one prison for another.

"You should be grateful, Aurora," Grayson continued, his voice calm but determined.

She forced to swallow the lump on her throat. Should she thank him? Should she feel relieved? But how could she? He was not helping her. He was binding her. And all she felt was trapped.

"Eat," he ordered, his gaze darkening as he watched her hesitate.

Aurora forced herself to pick up the fork, though the food felt like ash in her mouth. She had gotten what she wanted, but at what price?

___

After their silent yet rigid breakfast, Aurora locked herself in the bedroom. She could not stand another minute under that man’s scrutinizing eyes and chilly demeanor. Though he had not used force on her, his presence alone was enough to make her shudder involuntarily.

A soft knock at the door pulled Aurora from her thoughts. Before she could respond, the door swung open, and Edith, the housekeeper, stepped inside.

Behind her, several servants followed, carrying boxes and bags filled with clothes, shoes, and neatly arranged toiletries. They moved with silent efficiency, placing everything in the massive walk-in closet and bathroom attached to her room.

Aurora stood frozen. The wardrobe was stocked with silk blouses, tailored dresses, and elegant loungewear. Luxurious perfumes and skincare products lined the big vanity— even the smallest essentials, hairbrushes, slippers, jewelry, had been carefully arranged. It felt like she was being prepared for a new life.

It felt surreal, and suffocating at the same time.

"Mr. Moore instructed that everything must be prepared for you," Edith said, her voice composed but firm. "From now on, these are your belongings."

Aurora’s hands clenched at her sides. "I never asked for this."

Edith barely reacted. "And yet, it has been given to you."

Aurora turned toward her, frustration bubbling underneath her skin. "What exactly does he expect in return?"

The housekeeper met her gaze evenly. "That is a question only Mr. Moore can answer."

Aurora’s stomach twisted.

After a few minutes, the servants finished their task, bowing slightly before leaving. Edith remained behind.

"Your meals will be brought to you if you do not wish to come down for lunch. You may request anything you need."

Before she could speak, Edith cut her off. Her expression remained unchanged. "You should rest, Miss Scott. Mr. Moore will expect to see you later."

Aurora’s heart skipped at that last statement.

"He wants to see me?" she asked warily.

Edith gave a slight nod before turning and leaving, the heavy door clicking shut behind her.

Aurora exhaled shakily. She should feel lucky. But she did not.

Instead, she felt trapped.

Had she made a mistake?

___

In the afternoon..

The room was overwhelmed with silence. Aurora sat curled on the edge of the bed, her fingers twisting the sheets beneath her when she heard the door open.

Grayson stepped inside, his black shirt slightly undone at the collar. He looked more relaxed than before, yet every inch of him still radiated control.

Aurora expected him to say something. To demand something. Instead, he walked toward her with a silver tray in his hands and set it down on the bedside table.

"You did not eat lunch," he stated, his voice low but firm.

Without warning, he sat beside her, closing the distance between them.

Aurora tensed almost immediately. She had not expected Grayson to personally deliver her food, and the closeness between them made her heart race.

"I... was not hungry," she whispered.

Grayson studied her for a moment before reaching for the fork. Without another word, he speared a piece of chicken and lifted it toward her lips.

Aurora froze.

"W-what are you doing?" she stammered.

His gaze remained locked onto hers, hard to read. "Feeding you."

The weight of his presence was overwhelming, and Aurora felt herself shrink beneath it. Her pulse quickened. The fork hovered in front of her, waiting.

She hesitated, her breath uneven. "I… I can eat on my own," she whispered.

He did not lower the fork. He did not move away. The silence stretched between them. Grayson was determined, and it showed in his actions. There was no room for rejection.

Aurora swallowed hard. Slowly, she parted her lips.

The fork slipped past, the taste of the food barely registering as she chewed. She was too aware of him, too aware of the way his gaze stayed on her.

Just as she thought he would leave, Grayson reached out all of a sudden. His fingers brushed against her cheek, his touch light but unexpectedly warm. Aurora’s breath caught in her throat while her heart pounded wildly.

Grayson's thumb traced along her jaw, his gaze flickering to her lips. The air between them shifted into something unspoken yet undeniable. His sudden gesture left her baffled.

Aurora’s body tensed, but she did not move away. She could not. Her mind screamed at her to retreat, but her senses betrayed her. It wanted more. It wanted the warmth of his touch.

And then, Grayson leaned in closer..

His lips brushed against hers—it featherlight. Aurora’s heart almost leaped out, her entire body frozen in place. The kiss was slow and tender, as if he were savoring the moment and the taste of her lips. His lips against hers was warm, soft—intoxicating.

Aurora gasped softly at the contact, and in that instant, the kiss deepened. His hand slid to the back of her head, angling her closer, his lips pressing harder, claiming her completely. His dominance was undeniable.

Aurora’s mind screamed at her to pull away. But she did not. She could not.

Because for the first time since meeting him, she was not thinking.

She was feeling.

And it terrified her.