Chapter 3

"What do you mean this is my home? You don't own me. Who do you think you are?" I asked, my voice sharp, but my hands were shaking.

He didn't blink. Didn't smile. He just stared at me like l just asked a stupid question.

"Your soon-to-be husband," he said calmly, like he was talking about the weather.

I scoffed, stepping back. "Don't fuck with me right now. Today is not the day."

I could already feel the tears crawling up my throat again.

"I was just humiliated at the restaurant by my fiance, he did not only break up with me but he embarrassed me in front of the whole damn place. I went there looking pretty for him and he called me a fat pig in front of everyone." I began to crash out.

I pressed my palm to my chest, trying to breathe. "So don't think that because I showed up here to help my friend, I don't have a heartbreak to deal with. I haven't even cried enough yet. I need to go home. Drown myself in a bottle of wine. Just... let it all out."

The tears l had been fighting broke free, falling down my cheeks. I turned away from him, trying to hide my face. I didn't want to cry in front of another stranger.

I didn't want to seem weak again. But I couldn't help it. I couldn't hold anything in anymore.

"Please," I whispered, "please let me go."

He was quiet for a second. Then his voice came, low but dangerous.

"Who hurt you?"

I turned back to look at him.

"I just need a name," he said. "That's all. I'll fix everything."

I laughed bitterly through my tears. "Fix it? Really? Do you even know what I'm going through? You think you can fix this?"

"I'll kill whoever made you cry like this," he said.

My breath caught.

"I just need his name," he added, like he was offering to pick up my groceries.

I shook my head and wiped my eyes. "You don't need to do anything. If you really want to help me, then let me go home."

He didn't speak. He just slowly stood up from the bed, his body tall and intimidating. He walked toward me, barefoot, shirtless, stitched up and my feet instinctively backed away.

But before I could move far, he reached for my waist and pulled me into him. My chest hit his bare skin. I gasped.

He tilted my chin up with two fingers, his other hand tracing along my face like he was memorizing it.

"You look so good," he said. "Is this love at first sight, or what?"

I stared at him like he had lost his damn mind. "This is not love at first sight," I snapped. "This is an obsession. And you're sick."

He grinned. "Obviously I am. And I need medical attention."

"Go to the hospital then," I hissed. "What do you want from me?"

"Why would I go to the hospital," he said, titling his head, "when I've got you here to take care of me?"

I felt another tear slip down my cheek. "Please..." My voice cracked. "Leave me alone please. Let me go."

He stared at me for a second, then turned to the door and said to the guards, "Get her some clothes. And everything a woman needs. Then leave us."

The men nodded and walked out like it was just a regular Tuesday.

I spun to him, my voice rising now. "Are you fucking for real? What the hell are you thinking? I can't stay here.

Don't you understand that?"

"You're mine," he said simply. "Don't you understand?"

I shook my head, chest heaving. "I'm not your anything! You can't keep me here! You can't just decide you own me! I'm not scared of you, okay?!"

I turned and marched to the door, pulled my hand forward to grab the handle and then-

BANG.

A gunshot rang out.

I screamed. My whole body froze.

I looked up at the door. A bullet hole sat right where my hand had been a second ago.

My heart dropped. My knees buckled slightly. What the hell did I just walk into? Slowly, I turned around. He was still holding the gun, but it was pointed at the floor now. His eyes were locked on me. Cold and burning.

"You still want to leave?" he asked.

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I shook my head, whispering, "No... no, I don't."

Tears were falling again, faster than before. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. My legs felt like jelly.

He dropped the gun and walked over to me slowly.

When he reached me, he gently cupped my face in both hands, brushing the tears off my cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to scare you."

I was still crying, still shaking. His voice came out deep and commanding. "What's your name?"

“B… Bella.” I stammered, trying to keep my voice still.

He touched my hair, slowly pushing it behind my ear.

His fingers grazed my cheek.

"I don't want to see you cry," he said. "You're too pretty to be crying like that. Understood?"

I nodded quickly. "Yes. I understand."

He nodded back and walked to the bed, sitting down with a quiet groan as he rested against the pillows.

Then he looked at me again. "Liam. My name is Liam."

I stood there like a statue. My heart was pounding so fast I thought it might rip out of my chest.

And I realized something in that moment.

I was trapped. Not just trapped, practically kidnapped.

And Liam? He didn't plan to let me go.