Ethan stepped closer to Isla, his presence looming like a storm on the horizon. The air between them was thick with tension, his eyes locking onto hers with a dangerous intensity. She could feel his breath on her skin, the weight of his control suffocating her as she tried to hold her ground.
“You’re not leaving here,” Ethan said, his voice low and filled with menace. “Because if you do, you have no idea what might happen.”
His words sent a chill down Isla’s spine. There was no mistaking the threat in his tone—one that went far beyond their twisted marriage. She could see it in his eyes, the silent promise that defiance would only bring consequences she wasn’t prepared for.
“You think you can just keep me here like some prisoner?” Isla’s voice trembled despite her best efforts to stay strong. She hated the way her fear crept into her words, hated that Ethan could sense it.
He chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in his smile. It was cold, cruel, and dripping with the certainty of his power. “We’re married, Isla,” he said, as if that explained everything. “Everyone knows we’re husband and wife. So, if you try to fight me, it won’t end well for you. Whether you like it or not, this is your reality now.”
Isla’s heart raced as his words sank in. He wasn’t just talking about control—he was talking about ownership. To Ethan, their marriage wasn’t a partnership; it was a cage, one he had locked her in with no intention of letting her out.
“You can’t do this to me,” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of her fear. “You can’t just—”
“I can do whatever I want with you,” Ethan interrupted, his voice sharp. “You’re already my wife.”
The possessiveness in his tone made Isla’s stomach churn. She felt trapped, cornered by the man she had once loved but who now seemed like a stranger—someone she couldn’t escape from. Her thoughts were racing, desperately trying to find a way out, but every path seemed blocked by Ethan’s iron grip on her life.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. “This isn’t love, Ethan. This is not totally love.”
Ethan’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he took another step closer. “Who said anything about love?” he whispered, his voice a chilling contrast to the fire burning in his gaze. “This is about power, Isla. And right now, I hold all of it.”
His words were like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of her. She had known that Ethan was controlling, that he thrived on power, but hearing it so bluntly felt like a confirmation of her worst fears. He didn’t care about love—only about winning, about having her completely under his control.
Isla took a step back, her mind racing for any way to reason with him, to break through the icy exterior he had built around himself. “If you ever cared about me,” she began, her voice shaking, “then let me go. This isn’t how marriage is supposed to be.”
Ethan’s jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes—something almost human. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the cold mask he wore so well.
“Marriage is whatever I say it is,” he replied, his tone icy. “And you’re mine now, Isla. You can fight me all you want, but it won’t change anything. You belong to me.”
Isla’s breath hitched, the finality of his words crashing over her like a tidal wave. There was no reasoning with him, no appealing to whatever remnants of the man she had once loved might still exist. Ethan was too far gone, consumed by his obsession with power and control.
For a moment, she felt like giving in—like accepting that this was her fate, that she would never escape the prison Ethan had created for her. But deep inside, a small, fierce spark of defiance still burned.
“You’ll never have me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with determination.
Ethan’s smirk returned, cold and cruel. “We’ll see,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “I always get what I want, Isla. Always.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Isla standing alone in the cold, oppressive silence of the mansion. The echo of his footsteps faded, but the weight of his words remained, heavy and suffocating.
Isla stood there for a long time, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind spinning with fear and frustration. She knew that Ethan wasn’t going to stop until he had broken her completely, until she was nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game.
But as she stared at the door he had just walked through, something inside her hardened.
She wouldn’t let him win.
No matter what it took, no matter how long it took, she would find a way to break free from Ethan’s control. He might think he held all the power, but Isla wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
Not now. Not ever.
Isla stood frozen in the grand, cold hallway long after Ethan disappeared. His words echoed in her mind, looping over and over until they were almost unbearable. You belong to me. The weight of those words pressed down on her like a heavy shroud, suffocating her.
She had always believed marriage was built on love, trust, and partnership. But this—this was something else entirely. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t trust. Furthermore, it was ownership, and Isla could feel every link of the invisible chain Ethan had wrapped around her.
Her heart thudded loudly in her chest as she tried to focus, tried to calm the panic rising within her. She needed a plan, but her thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and fear. She wanted to scream, to cry, to fight back with everything she had, but deep down, she knew it would be futile.
Ethan was powerful. His reach extended far beyond what she could see. And now, he had made it clear that he had no intention of letting her go—ever.
Isla took a deep breath, her fists clenched at her sides. She wouldn’t let him see her break. Not yet. Not until she had a way out. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her defeated, no matter how much she was shaking inside.
But even as she tried to steel herself, the reality of her situation gnawed at her. Ethan wasn’t just controlling her; he was controlling everything around her. Everyone knew they were married now. To the world, she was Mrs. Isla Greyson, Ethan’s wife. And Ethan was right—if she fought back, it would be her word against his. He had power, money, and influence. What did she have?
Nothing.
The thought was a punch to the gut, but she swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. She couldn’t afford to wallow in despair. Not now. Not when her life was on the line.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke through her thoughts. Isla turned sharply, her body tensing as one of Ethan’s guards approached her from down the hall. His expression was stern, unreadable, as he stopped a few feet away.
“Mr. Greyson requested that you return to your room,” the guard said, his tone formal and cold. “He’ll see you in the morning.”
Isla stared at him for a moment, weighing her options. She could argue, but it would get her nowhere. She could try to run, but where would she go? Ethan had guards posted at every corner of this mansion. There was no escaping him—not yet.
“Fine,” she muttered, turning on her heel and walking back toward the room Ethan had confined her to earlier.
As she walked, her mind raced with thoughts of escape. There had to be a way out of this. Ethan couldn’t keep her prisoner forever. But as she passed through the sprawling mansion, with its high ceilings, polished marble floors, and heavily guarded doors, the hopelessness of her situation began to sink in.
The room Ethan had assigned her was on the far side of the mansion, isolated and eerily quiet. When she entered, the door closed with a heavy thud behind her, sealing her inside once again. The walls felt like they were closing in, and the weight of her entrapment became unbearable.
Isla collapsed onto the edge of the massive bed, burying her face in her hands. Her mind screamed at her to find a solution, to fight back, but for the first time in her life, she felt truly powerless. The reality of Ethan’s control over her was suffocating, and she couldn’t see a way out.
As the minutes ticked by, a single thought began to take shape in her mind. If she couldn’t escape Ethan physically, maybe she could escape him in another way. Possibly she could find something he hadn’t considered, a weakness he hadn’t accounted for.
Isla lifted her head, her eyes narrowing as a plan began to form. She wouldn’t fight him head-on—that was a battle she couldn’t win. But if there was one thing she knew about Ethan, it was that he thrived on control. He believed he had her trapped, but perhaps that arrogance was his blind spot.
If she could make him believe that she had submitted, that she was no longer a threat, maybe she could find a way to break free from the inside. Maybe, just maybe, she could turn the tables on him.
Her heart pounded with a renewed sense of purpose. She would play his game—for now. But she wouldn’t let him win. Not forever.
She had to be smart. She had to be patient. And most importantly, she had to be willing to do whatever it took to get her life back.
Ethan might think he owned her, but Isla wasn’t ready to give up. She wasn’t ready to be his pawn.
As she sat there, staring out the window into the darkness, Isla made a silent vow to herself:
I will get out of this. I will get my freedom back. And when I do, Ethan will regret ever thinking he could control me.
The fire inside her burned brighter than ever, her fear replaced by a steely determination.
She would bide her time. She would wait for the perfect moment. And when it came, she would strike.