She felt him even now, as though his presence was a shadow cast across her skin. Kael Hale.
Her stomach twisted painfully. Six years. Six years of pretending she didn't love him. Six years of him rejecting her, keeping her at arm's length, pushing her toward a life she didn't want. So she'd made a choice. She would marry someone else. Someone safe.
And yet, deep down, she'd known this day would never come.
A sharp knock on the door jolted her back. Her heart leapt into her throat. One of the bridesmaids opened it - only to be shoved aside.
He filled the doorway like a storm. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair swept back, piercing gray eyes locked on her. Kael. Dressed in black, tailored to perfection, a cruel, knowing smile on his lips.
"Get out," he said softly.
The room fell silent. The bridesmaids stared, frozen.
"I said, get out."
This time, his voice carried steel, and the women scrambled, whispering apologies as they fled the room. The door clicked shut.
Aria rose slowly, every nerve in her body screaming. "What are you doing here, kael?"
He stepped forward, smooth and unhurried. "Did you really think I'd let you go through with this, kitten?"
Her fists clenched. "You told me you didn't want me. You rejected me."
"That was before you decided to belong to someone else."
She shivered, rage and longing warring inside her. "You're insane."
"Perhaps." His smile widened, sharp as a blade. "But you're mine."
Before she could move, he was in front of her, one arm circling her waist, the other lifting her effortlessly off the ground. She gasped, struggling, pounding her fists against his chest.
"Put me down!"
"Not a chance, sweetheart."
She heard the sound of commotion outside - shouts, running footsteps. But kael was already at the window, a sleek black car waiting below. In seconds, he knocked her out.
Aria woke on silk sheets, her wrists pinned gently but firmly. The scent of cedarwood filled her nose. She thrashed, blinking away the haze, and realized she was in his bed. His penthouse.
The door creaked open. Kael entered, jacket gone, shirt sleeves rolled up, dark eyes hungry.
"You're awake."
"You can't keep me here," she spat.
He moved closer, kneeling by the bed, one hand brushing a lock of hair from her cheek. "I saved you once, Aria. From the fire. From the wreckage. Did you think I'd let you walk into another disaster?"
Tears burned her eyes, but she glared at him fiercely. "You had no right."
He smiled softly, almost sadly. "I have every right. You're already mine."
Her breath caught. "What are you talking about?"
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded paper, smoothing it over her stomach. Her eyes darted to the words.
Marriage license.
Her name. His name. Signed, sealed, delivered.
She choked on her breath, fury and disbelief crashing through her. "You... you did this... you planned this..."
He leaned down, lips brushing her ear.
"Six years, kitten. Did you really think I'd ever let you go?"