Damien's grip on my chin was firm, his thumb brushing over my trembling lips as if he owned me. His eyes darkened, his smirk returning—but this time, it wasn't amused. It was dangerous.

 "You really don't learn, do you?" he murmured.

 I clenched my jaw, refusing to let the fear show. I won't break. I won't give him that satisfaction. 

 "Let. Me. Go," I spat, my voice unwavering despite the racing of my heart. His grip tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, but just enough to remind me that I was completely at his mercy.

 "You think you're in a position to demand anything from me?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying warning in his tone. I glared up at him, my body still tense from my failed escape. I wouldn't answer him. 

 Damien sighed dramatically, then suddenly scooped me up into his arms. "Put me down!" I shrieked, struggling against his hold, my fists pounding against his chest .He didn't even flinch. 

 "You brought this upon yourself, sweetheart," he said smoothly as he carried me back up the stairs. No. No. No. I kicked harder, but it was useless. His grip was unbreakable. "You need to learn a lesson, Isabel," he murmured, pushing open the bedroom door with his foot. 

 My breath hitched. What was he going to do? He walked in and tossed me onto the bed, my body bouncing against the mattress. Before I could react, he grabbed a silk tie from the nightstand. Panic surged through me. 

 "W-What are you doing?" My voice came out in a whisper. He smirked, his fingers playing with the fabric. 

"I gave you a chance to behave," he said, his voice dangerously soft. "But you don't listen, do you?" He climbed onto the bed, his body looming over mine, his face just inches away. "Maybe," he whispered, his fingers brushing against my wrist, 

"it's time I show you what happens when you disobey me." 

I struggled against him, thrashing my body in a desperate attempt to escape, but it was no use. Damien was stronger, his grip unyielding as he pinned me down with ease. My breaths came in shallow gasps as he secured one of my wrists to the bedpost with the silk tie.

"Damien, stop!" I shouted, yanking my arm, but the knot only tightened.

He tsked, his smirk never fading. "You brought this upon yourself, sweetheart. If you had just listened, none of this would be necessary."

I felt my other wrist being restrained before I could fight back. Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, but I bit my lip, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted. My heart pounded against my ribs as I glared up at him, my body tense beneath his weight.

"You're sick," I spat, fury flashing in my eyes. "You can tie me up, Damien, but you'll never control me."

His gaze darkened, amusement flickering in his expression. "Is that so?" He leaned in, his lips grazing my ear as he whispered, "You should know by now, Isabel, I always get what I want."

I turned my face away from him, refusing to let him see the fear creeping into my expression.

"You won't break me," I said through clenched teeth.

Damien let out a low chuckle. "I don't need to break you, sweetheart. I just need you to realize there's no escaping me."

He trailed a finger down my cheek before standing up, leaving me tied to the bed. I pulled at the restraints, my wrists aching from the friction. He watched me struggle for a moment, his smirk deepening before he turned away and walked toward the door.

"Get some rest," he said smoothly. "You'll need it. The wedding is tomorrow."

My breath caught in my throat. Tomorrow? No. No, I couldn't let this happen.

"Damien!" I screamed, but he merely glanced over his shoulder with a knowing smirk before walking out, locking the door behind him.

I yanked at the silk ties with all my strength, ignoring the burn on my skin. I couldn't let him win. I had to get out of here. Somehow, someway—I had to escape.

Tears of frustration pricked my eyes, but I refused to cry. This wasn't over. Not yet.

The door slammed shut, and I was left alone in the dimly lit room, my hands bound tightly to the bedposts. My body trembled—not just from exhaustion but from the sheer helplessness of my situation. I pulled at the restraints until my wrists burned, but it was useless. No matter how much I struggled, the ropes wouldn't budge.

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I forced them back. Crying wouldn't save me. Begging wouldn't save me. I had to think. I had to find a way out.

I didn't know how long I lay there, my mind racing for a plan, but the sound of the door creaking open made my body stiffen.

Damien stepped inside, his presence instantly filling the room. He moved toward me with slow, deliberate steps and sat on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes locked onto mine.

"Tomorrow is our wedding," he said, his voice unnervingly calm.

I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palms. "I will never marry you," I shot back, my voice sharp and unwavering.

His lips curled into a smirk, as if my defiance amused him. "Do you think you have a choice, sweetheart?"

I glared at him, my breath heavy. "You can force me into this, Damien, but I will never be yours."

His smirk didn't waver. If anything, it deepened. "Is that so?" He leaned closer, his fingers brushing against my cheek, making me flinch. "Well, let me make something very clear to you."

He stood up, pacing the room with an eerie confidence before turning back to me.

"These men outside," he gestured toward the door, "they're not just here to guard you. They'll all be present at the wedding tomorrow." His voice was slow, deliberate, sending chills down my spine.

I swallowed hard. "You can't force me to stand at that altar."

His eyes darkened, his amusement replaced by something far more sinister. "Oh, but I can. And I will."

He walked back over, placing a hand on the headboard just above me, his face inches from mine.

"If you try to run... if you refuse to go through with the wedding..." He let his words trail off, watching my reaction closely. "It won't take much for them to find your family."

My blood turned to ice.

A slow, satisfied smirk spread across his face as he saw the fear flash in my eyes. "You see, Isabel, both ways—you will marry me. But the difference is whether your family stays safe... or not."

"You're lying," I whispered, but my voice betrayed me.

He chuckled darkly. "Am I?" He pulled out his phone, turned it toward me, and there it was—a message sent to my parents.

"Mom, Dad, I'm safe. I left with Damien for a few days. Don't worry about me. I'll call you soon. Love, Isabel."

I gasped, my stomach twisting in horror. "You... you sent that?!" I screamed at him, my voice shaking with anger.

His smirk widened. "Of course. What did you think? That I'd let your family get suspicious? No, sweetheart, they think you're with me willingly. That you're happy."

Tears welled in my eyes as I yanked at the ropes in pure frustration. "You lied to them!"

He tilted his head, feigning innocence. "I prefer to call it protecting them from unnecessary worry."

I shook my head, my breaths uneven. "You're a monster, Damien."

His smirk didn't fade. Instead, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Then you better get used to living with the monster, Mrs. Knight."

(Damien's surname is Knight)