Isabel's POV:

I was in the car, my hands and legs tied up, tears streaming down my face as I cried over my ill fate. My body ached from struggling, my mind racing with thoughts of escape. But before I knew it, everything turned black.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on a bed in an unfamiliar room. My hands and legs were still tied, the rough texture of the ropes biting into my skin. Panic surged through me as I struggled against my restraints, my breaths coming in quick, uneven gasps.

Where am I?

I glanced around the dimly lit room—dark curtains covering the windows, a large wardrobe in the corner, and a single door that seemed to be my only exit. The air smelled of expensive cologne and something distinctly Damien. My heart pounded in my chest from fear.

A deep, mocking voice pulled me out of my panic. "You're finally awake, sweetheart."

I turned my head sharply to find Damien leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smug smirk playing on his lips. The sight of him sent a wave of fear and rage through me.

"Let me go, Damien! And where am I? You said you were taking me to my home," I spat, tugging at the ropes in vain.

He let out a dark chuckle as he strolled toward me, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Let you go? After all the trouble you caused me? And who said I was going to take you to your home? This is our home. The place where we will live after our wedding. We can't stay at your parents' house or mine, after all."

I flinched as he reached down, tracing a finger along my jawline. "You should know by now, Isabel, running from me is useless."

I jerked my head away, glaring at him. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever accept this. I'd rather die than marry you!"

His smirk didn't falter. Instead, he tilted his head, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "Now, now. Let's not be so dramatic, sweetheart. You don't have a choice. In two days, you will be my wife."

I struggled harder, frustration boiling inside me. "You can force a wedding, Damien, but you can never force me to love you!"

His expression darkened slightly, and for a moment, something flickered in his gaze—something I couldn't quite place. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same infuriating smirk.

"Love?" He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, Isabel, I don't need your love. I just need you by my side, where you belong."

I clenched my teeth. "You're a monster."

Damien leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin. "Then you better get used to living with the monster, sweetheart. Because you're not going anywhere."

I took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of defiance in me. "You think you can keep me here forever? My family, my friends—they will come looking for me. And when they do, you'll regret this."

His smirk only widened. "Oh, Isabel," he murmured, pulling out her phone from his pocket. He turned the screen towards me, showing a series of messages. "I already told them you're with me. That you're safe. That we're preparing for our wedding. And guess what? They believed me."

My blood ran cold. "You... you lied to them?"

Damien chuckled, tucking the phone away. "I simply reassured them. And now, no one is coming to save you."

Fury surged through me, and I thrashed against my restraints. "You're disgusting! How could you—"

He cut me off with a dark chuckle. "Save your energy, sweetheart. You'll need it for our wedding."

AFTER A WHILE (when Damien is not in the room)

I swallowed my panic and scanned the room again, my eyes darting toward the window. My heart pounded as I considered the option—maybe I could slip out and climb down? But as I rushed to it, my hope shattered.

The window was reinforced with iron bars.

I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out in frustration. Of course, Damien wouldn't make it easy for me. He was always one step ahead.

I turned back, my eyes settling on the door. The hallway. It was my only way out.

I took a deep breath, listening carefully. Silence. Damien had left, probably confident that the ropes would keep me restrained. He had underestimated me.

Using every ounce of strength, I twisted and pulled at the knots, wincing as the rough rope bit into my skin. After minutes of struggling, my hands finally slipped free. My wrists throbbed, red marks already forming, but I ignored the pain and worked on untying my legs.

The second I was free, I rushed to the door, pressing my ear against it. Still quiet. Now or never.

Slowly, I turned the knob, holding my breath as I peeked out. The hallway stretched in both directions—dimly lit, lined with expensive paintings, and eerily silent.

I crept forward, careful to avoid making noise. Every shadow seemed like a lurking danger, every soft creak of the wooden floor made my pulse spike.

Just a little further...

I reached the staircase and peered down. The front door was in sight. Freedom.

But just as I took a step forward, a deep voice froze me in place.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?"

My stomach dropped.

I turned slowly, my breath catching as I saw Damien standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, a dark smirk playing on his lips.

My heart slammed against my ribs. Every instinct screamed at me to run.

Without a second thought, I turned on my heels and sprinted down the stairs.

"Isabel," Damien's voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it. "Don't make this harder for yourself."

I didn't listen. I raced towards the front door, my breath coming in short gasps. My fingers fumbled with the lock. Come on, come on! Click.

I yanked the door open—

And crashed into a broad chest.

A gasp escaped me as I stumbled back, my blood running cold.

One of Damien's men stood before me, his expression blank but his stance firm, blocking the exit. Trapped.

"No—No, please!" I tried to shove past him, but he didn't budge. His grip was firm yet not rough as he caught my arm.

Footsteps.

I turned my head, dread pooling in my stomach as Damien descended the stairs, slow and deliberate, like a predator cornering his prey.

His eyes locked onto mine, filled with amusement and something far more terrifying—possession.

"You really thought you could escape me, Isabel?" he mused, stopping just a few feet away. He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. "That was a bad idea."

I thrashed against the guard's grip, my desperation turning into fury. "I will never be yours, Damien!"

His smirk vanished. In an instant, he closed the distance between us, his fingers gripping my chin, tilting my face up so I had no choice but to look into his stormy eyes.

"You already are," he murmured, his voice chillingly soft. "And I will make sure you never forget it."

A shiver ran down my spine.

I had failed. Again.

But this wasn't over. Not yet.