Rain beat against the estate windows like a metronome for my nerves. The curtains stayed closed. The gates locked.
No deliveries. No visitors. No one came. No one left.
Vincent barely ate. Didn’t sleep beside me. Didn’t touch me. And that hurt worse than any headline. Worse than bruises, than shame, than Julian’s hands. Every time I reached for him, he pulled away like I was a hot stove he’d been burned by before.
The silence was worse than screaming.
He stood in the library one afternoon, hands clasped behind his back like a soldier awaiting judgment. The fire crackled low, casting his features in a flickering orange halo that did nothing to soften the edge of him.
I stood in the doorway, wrapped in a blanket, heart knocking against bone.
“Vincent,” I said.
He didn’t turn. “You should go.”
I stepped into the room. “I’m not leaving.”
His jaw flexed. “You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“They think I hurt you,” he said, voice like ice sliding down my spine. “And maybe I did.”
That hit like a whip. My lungs forgot how to work. I crossed the room in three strides and slapped him. Not hard. Just enough to make his head snap, his eyes widen. Just enough to make him look at me.
He blinked, stunned. “Did you just—”
“Yes,” I snapped. “Because you need to wake the fuck up.”
His mouth opened, but I didn’t give him the chance. “Don’t you dare rewrite what we are. Don’t you stand there and pretend I was some helpless victim you corrupted.”
“I was supposed to protect you.”
“And you did!” My voice cracked. “From Julian. From my father. From myself.”
“You don’t know what they’ll do to you now. The press. The board. The vultures.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.” His voice broke. “Because I’ll tear you apart.”
“No,” I whispered, stepping closer. “You put me back together.”
He turned away again. His hands shook. “You don’t understand what you’ve signed up for.”
“I do. And I signed up anyway.”
Still, he pulled away. And that’s when I knew what I had to do.
That night, I stood in the red room, naked in front of the full-length mirror. No silk robe. No perfume. No makeup. Just me. Raw and real and waiting.
I opened the drawer, took out the cuffs, and locked them around my wrists. Then I lay back on the bed, arms above my head, legs parted slightly. My heart pounded, but I didn’t second-guess myself. I didn’t do this because he told me to. I did it because I needed to remind him that this was mine too. My choice. My power.
Time crawled. Every creak in the house made my breath hitch. But he didn’t come.
The silence thickened.
Doubt twisted in my gut. Maybe I’d gone too far. Maybe he was really gone this time.
Then I heard soft steps. The door creaked open. Leather soles on hardwood. I held my breath.
He entered. The energy in the room shifted, heavy and hot and laced with sorrow.
“I’m not leaving,” I said quietly. “Even if you never touch me again. I’m not leaving.”
He moved.
His hand brushed my ankle. Then my shin. Then higher—light, reverent, almost afraid. He sank to his knees beside the bed like he was in church. His voice cracked. “You chained yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I trust you.”
He looked at me like I’d stabbed him through the heart. “Even now?”
“Especially now.”
His face crumpled. He reached for the restraints, unclipped them with trembling hands. “I don’t deserve this.”
“Then earn it again,” I whispered.
My arms dropped to my sides. My wrists ached, but not from pain. From release. From surrender.
Vincent lifted my hand and kissed my wrist. Then my palm. Then each knuckle like it was a vow.
“I thought I lost you,” he said.
“You didn’t.”
He climbed into bed still wearing his shirt, his belt, his guilt. He lay beside me, head on my bare chest, hand on my hip like he needed to feel my pulse. His fingers traced every inch of my body, but not with hunger. With apology. With devotion. With grief.
“I should’ve protected you better.”
“You did.”
“I should’ve stayed.”
“You came back.”
“I was afraid.”
“I know.”
He kissed me then—my cheek, my shoulder, my collarbone. Not to claim. To mourn. Every touch said forgive me. Every breath said I need you.
.