Chapter 4 DRUGGED

DANIEL

The ballroom glittered with chandeliers, gold trim, and too many fake smiles. People laughed too loudly, their voices sharp with insincerity. Diamonds flashed, champagne flowed, and politicians, royals, and billionaires all circled one another like sharks pretending to be dolphins.

It was my parents' doing, another one of their infamous gatherings where power traded hands over wine and whispers. My mother always said I was lucky to be born into this world. She was wrong.

Tonight, none of it mattered.

For two years, my mind, my soul, and my very blood had been consumed by one woman-Rebel. She haunted me. A ghost, an assassin, a shadow who moved through the world as though she were untouchable. I had sent my best men after her, men trained to hunt prey across continents. None of them succeeded. She slipped away every time, leaving nothing behind but the ache in my chest and the fire in my veins.

But Rebel wasn't just her profession, wasn't just a killer. To me, she was a force, a storm, a fever I couldn't cure.

And tonight, I swore it would end.

I rejected every woman my mother tried to parade in front of me, all painted smiles and empty eyes. None of them compared. None of them had her fire. Rebel had ruined me for anyone else.

I stood at the bar, swirling wine in my glass, drowning in the shallow chatter of the room. The noise grated at me. I was about to leave when the air shifted.

Then I saw her.

My hand froze, the glass slipping from my fingers and shattering against the marble floor.

Her.

It wasn't her dress, though the black silk clung to her body like it had been crafted for her alone. It wasn't the sharp click of her heels or the curve of her lips. It was her presence. She didn't enter the room-she claimed it. The air thickened, bending around her. A predator among prey.

My chest tightened. My pulse roared.

"Stand down," Klaus barked at my guards when they shifted, forming a wall around me. He followed my gaze and sneered. "Well, I'll be damned. It's her."

I barely heard him.

For two years she had been smoke in my hands, but now... she was here. Real. Flesh and blood. And every cell in my body screamed to go to her, to touch her, to never let her vanish again.

But Rebel wasn't the kind of woman you walked up to like everyone else. She was danger wrapped in silk. She chose her moments. She always did.

Then, like a shadow, she disappeared into the crowd.

A shriek cut the air. Panic erupted. Word spread in seconds-a foreign president had collapsed, dead. No gunfire, no noise. Just silence.

Rebel's silence.

But while the crowd screamed and scattered, fear wasn't what filled me. No. It was something darker. Possessive. Hungry.

"She's not leaving this building," I snarled at Klaus. "Find her."

He snapped orders to the men as I shoved through the chaos. My parents tried to drag me out, but I shook them off. I wasn't going anywhere.

Minutes passed. My men swept the ballroom and searched the halls, but she was gone. Just like before. My chest burnt. Rage clawed at me.

And then-

A door creaked at the far end of the hall.

She stumbled through, clutching her stomach. My breath stopped.

Blood.

Her black dress was soaked with it. She swayed, her steps unsteady, her fire dimming. For the first time, I didn't see the assassin, the ghost. I saw the woman.

"Rebel?" My voice broke through the silence.

Her eyes found mine-wild, unfocused, but still fierce. "What... what's happening to me?" Her words were barely more than a whisper before her knees gave out.

I lunged forward, catching her before she hit the ground. Her body was cold, trembling in my arms. Fury ripped through me. Someone had dared touch her, poison her, try to take her from me. They would pay in blood.

"She's hurt," Klaus said as he stepped closer.

"Back off," I snapped, pulling her tighter against me. No one else was going to touch her. Not my men. Not anyone. She was mine to protect.

Her skin was pale, her breathing shallow. Poison, maybe. Some kind of drug. My mind spun with possibilities, but all I could focus on was the fragile weight of her in my arms.

"Drive," I barked as we reached the car. "To the estate. Don't stop for anything."

Klaus climbed in beside me, already making calls, but I barely heard him. Rebel stirred against me, her fingers curling weakly into my jacket as though even in her half-conscious state she refused to surrender. That was her-defiant, unbroken, even as poison tried to steal her strength.

I kissed her temple, holding her tighter. "I've got you," I murmured. "You're safe now."

The ride blurred past. By the time we reached the mansion, she was half-asleep against my chest, her body fighting but fading. Staff rushed forward, their eyes wide, but I ignored them all. I carried her inside myself.

The doctor waited, ready with his case, but when he stepped forward, Rebel's hand shot out weakly, pushing him away. Even poisoned, even bleeding, she fought.

Something inside me burnt with pride.

"Leave us," I ordered.

"Sir, she needs-"

"Go." My tone left no room for argument.

The doctor hesitated, then backed away. This was between her and me.

I laid her gently on the bed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her beauty was undeniable, but it wasn't her looks that held me. It was her fire, even dimmed, even weak. She was a storm, and even now, I could see the embers glowing behind her half-closed eyes.

"What did they give you?" I muttered, more to myself than to her.

Her eyelids fluttered. She tried to speak but couldn't. My hand brushed against hers as I leaned closer.

"You're not dying on me," I whispered fiercely. "Not now. Not ever."

Her lips twitched, the faint ghost of a smirk, but the effort was too much. She closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

I sat there for hours, watching her, torn between two instincts-the hunger to claim her and the need to protect her. Both consumed me. Both were unbearable.

I had her. Finally, after years of chasing a ghost, she was in my bed, under my roof.

And I wasn't letting go.

When she stirred in pain, I fetched a damp cloth and wiped the blood from her skin, careful not to wake her. She shifted, her face twisting like she was fighting demons even in her sleep. My chest ached.

"I'll take care of you," I murmured softly, my hand brushing her cheek. "Even if you hate me for it."

The night was silent except for her breathing.

Rebel was finally mine. And I would burn the world to keep her.