Vivie hesitated before stepping out of her room, her heart hammering in her chest. The weight of the situation pressed down on her as she walked toward the dining room, where Ashton waited to lay down his rules.

The hallway was eerily silent, the only sound coming from the distant ticking of a grandfather clock. The walls were lined with paintings, expensive and lifeless, just like everything else in this mansion. Her breath came in shallow bursts as she stepped onto the cold marble floors, her heels clicking against the surface.

She had no idea what to expect from this dinner, but she knew one thing for certain—Ashton Varela didn’t do anything without purpose. If he wanted her here, it was because he had a plan, and she would be damned if she let him manipulate her without a fight.

As she reached the dining room, a pair of large wooden doors stood before her. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers brushing against the smooth surface before pushing them open.

The sight that greeted her was as intimidating as the man himself.

A long, polished table stretched across the room, set with fine china and flickering candlelight. At the far end, Ashton sat, his presence commanding even in silence. His suit was pristine, his posture relaxed but exuding dominance. A glass of red wine sat in front of him, untouched.

Vivie swallowed hard, forcing herself to lift her chin as she walked toward the table. A chair was already pulled out for her, but she hesitated before sitting down, feeling his gaze settle on her like a physical weight.

“You’re late,” Ashton murmured, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

“I wasn’t aware this was a job interview,” she shot back, settling into the chair, her fingers tightening around the edges of the napkin.

Ashton’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t amusement—it was something else. Something dark. “It’s not. But punctuality is expected.”

Vivie bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from responding. She knew he was testing her, waiting to see how far he could push before she broke. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

A servant appeared, placing a plate of food in front of her—something expensive, delicate, and utterly unappetizing. She barely glanced at it, too focused on the man across from her.

Ashton leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping against the armrest. “There are rules you will follow while you are here,” he began, his tone deceptively calm. “You will not leave this estate without my permission. You will not question my business. And above all, you will obey me without hesitation.”

Vivie’s grip tightened around the fork. “I’m not a dog you can train.”

“No,” he agreed, tilting his head slightly. “You’re something much more valuable.”

Her stomach twisted at his words, but she refused to let her fear show. Instead, she met his gaze head-on. “And if I refuse?”

A slow, predatory smile spread across his lips. “Then I will break you.”

The air in the room thickened, the tension suffocating. Vivie forced herself to take a deep breath, to steady the frantic beating of her heart. “You can try,” she whispered, a challenge in her voice.

Ashton’s gaze darkened, and for a brief moment, something unreadable flickered across his face. Then, he picked up his wine glass, taking a slow sip before setting it down with a deliberate clink.

“Eat,” he ordered. “You’ll need your strength.”

Vivie didn’t move. She could feel the walls closing in, the invisible chains tightening around her. But she would not submit. Not yet.

She picked up her fork, forcing herself to take a bite, all while keeping her eyes locked on the man who now owned her fate.

The battle had just begun.