Chapter 4 Trapped in his game

Aurora's heart pounded violently as Grayson's words echoed in her head.

"Tonight, you're mine."

His gray eyes burned into hers-- cold, unwavering, yet consuming.

She took a shaky step back, fear coiling deep in her gut. What awaited her? Her mind raced for an escape, but the sheer presence of him, the way he loomed over her with absolute command, held her rooted in place. His touch still lingered on her wrist, a chilling reminder that she was no longer free.

"W-What do you mean by that?" her voice barely above a whisper.

Grayson tilted his head slightly, studying her like a puzzle he had already solved.

"Exactly what I said."

Aurora clenched her fists, pulse erratic. Why does everyone think they own her?

"I am not some object you can claim," she protested firmly.

His smirk was slow, deliberate. "Yet here you are. In my home. Wearing my jacket. Breathing under my roof."

He stepped forward, his tall frame swallowing the space between them. "Tell me, Aurora. What does that make you?"

Her breath hitched. A prisoner. A possession. A pawn in a game she didn't understand. A shudder crept down her spine.

Still, she squared her shoulders, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Her innocent face was laced with defiance, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

"I didn't choose this!"

Grayson watched her, and for a moment, amusement flickered in his eyes. He took his time, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp shirt, exposing forearms corded with lean muscle.

The simple action made Aurora's stomach twist with unease.

Then he reminded her, his voice unyielding. "I gave you a choice."

Aurora swallowed hard. Both choices had led to the same place.

Grayson's lips twitched, something darker lurking beneath his amusement. Something almost... hungry.

"You'd be surprised what people do when faced with survival," he murmured. "Some beg. Some kneel. Some sell their souls just to live another day."

His hand moved suddenly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was featherlight, yet it sent a wave of tension down her spine.

"But you... you didn't beg."

She stilled, gazing at him with wide, wary eyes.

"Instead, you looked me in the eye and said you'd go with me." His voice dipped lower, almost a whisper, yet it carried a terrifying weight. "That's why you intrigue me."

Aurora's hands curled at her sides. "Are you expecting me to thank you?"

Grayson chuckled, low and deep. "I never ask for gratitude."

His gaze flickered over her face, assessing, calculating. Then, just as quickly as he had invaded her space, he stepped back.

"You must be exhausted." His voice returned to its usual detached coldness. "Your room is upstairs. Third door on the right."

She blinked, taken aback. That was it? No threats? No cryptic warnings?

She expected him to cage her, to push her deeper into this suffocating nightmare. Instead, he was letting her walk away.

Grayson turned to the waiting butler. "Escort her."

The man gave a respectful nod and gestured toward the grand staircase. "This way, Miss Scott."

Aurora hesitated. Something about this felt... wrong.

Her gaze flickered to Grayson, searching for the trick, the catch. Because there had to be one.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she mustered the courage to ask one last time.

"How did you know me? How did you know my name?"

The question had plagued her from the moment he spoke it. The way he arrived at the hotel, right when she needed saving-- it felt too precise. Too deliberate.

Grayson didn't answer.

Instead, he turned away, crossing the room toward the bar at the far end. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, dismissing her as if she wasn't the most important piece in whatever game he was playing.

Aurora's fingers trembled as she turned away, following the butler up the winding staircase.

The deeper she walked into the mansion, the more suffocated she felt.

The high ceilings. The dim golden lighting. The eerie silence that clung to the walls like a living thing. Everything about this place, about him, felt like a cage she would never escape.

Aurora's footsteps echoed softly against the marble floors as she followed the butler down the dimly lit hallway. The silence was so thick, so unnatural, that she swore she could hear her own heartbeat.

The butler stopped in front of a heavy wooden door and opened it. Inside was a grand, modern-styled bedroom-- luxurious, yet cold in its perfection.

"You will find everything you need here, Miss Scott," the butler said formally. "If you require anything, simply press the intercom."

Aurora nodded absently, barely hearing him. Hours ago, she had been nothing. A girl sold like property.

Now, she was this.

Whatever this was.

As the butler left, closing the heavy doors behind him, Aurora exhaled sharply.

She was alone. Finally.

Her gaze flickered to the door. Was it locked?

Cautiously, she padded across the room and twisted the handle.

It turned easily.

Her heart thudded. He hadn't locked her in.

Why? Why was he doing this?

The way he spoke, the way he owned her-- it was clear she was a prisoner in his fortress. Yet, the door was left open.

A shiver ran down her spine as she slowly closed it again.

It wasn't a physical lock that kept her here.

It was the cold, terrifying truth that no matter how much she wanted to run, there was nowhere left to go.

Meanwhile...

Grayson stood in his study, staring at the city lights through the vast glass windows.

The whiskey in his hand had long since lost its appeal.

His mind was elsewhere.

On her.

Aurora Scott.

He had planned this carefully. Every step. Every contingency.

But she was nothing like he had expected.

Innocent. Defiant. Fragile, yet unbreakable.

He had seen it in her eyes tonight.. The way she hesitated when given freedom.

She was already questioning everything. Already falling into his hands.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Good.

The more she struggled, the deeper she would sink.

He had given her a door that wasn't locked. A taste of false freedom.

Because the strongest cages weren't made of steel.

They were made of choices.

And soon, Aurora would realize that every path led back to him.