Chapter 8 THE ACT OF OBEDIENCE
Eli’s POV)
The morning after the wedding felt wrong. Too still.
I woke up half-dressed, my tux shirt clinging to my skin, the other side of the bed perfectly smooth as if no one had ever touched it. The sunlight spilling through the glass walls felt too clean for what happened last night.
Julian had pinned me against that same wall before walking out. Just like that. No kiss, no touch beyond the bruising grip of his hand on my wrist and the quiet words that still rang in my skull: “It’s no fun if you resist.”
I sat up slowly, my chest tight. The silence was so deep I could hear my own heartbeat. Somewhere in the penthouse, something mechanical hummed; a reminder that I wasn’t alone, not really. He freaking has cameras everywhere.
Breakfast waited on the table: eggs, fruit, champagne. A folded silver note beside the tray read in that same cold handwriting: Eat. You’ll need your strength. — J
I stared at it for a long moment. “Strength for what, execution?” I muttered, snatching a grape off the platter just to prove I still had free will.
Except I didn’t.
He's not around, so what if I successfully escape?
Whomp whomp whomp… Every door I tried was locked. The elevator beeped for a card I didn’t have. The balcony’s glass wouldn’t even slide open. I pressed my palms to it anyway, feeling like a bird trapped in a museum display.
Then I looked up.
The faintest red blink near the ceiling; cameras. Watching.
Fine. Watch this.
I dragged a chair across the marble, climbed onto it, and started covering one of the cameras with a towel. The second I did…
The lights flickered twice.
Then a voice filled the room. Calm, male, and unfortunately familiar.
“That’s not a good idea, Eli.”
My stomach dropped.
The voice wasn’t live. It was pre-recorded… Julian’s voice, rich and unbothered.
“Enjoying your freedom?”
I ripped the towel down like it had burned me. My pulse hammered so hard it made my fingers shake.
Julian had planned for rebellion.
I wish I could smash his head but instead I idled around all day, till evening time.
\---
Evening came slow. The city outside shifted from gold to gray, the skyline swallowed by night. When the lock beeped open, I was already standing near the window, arms crossed, pretending not to care.
He walked in. Crisp suit. No smile. No apology.
The kind of man who carried his own gravity.
“Do you get off on this?” I snapped. “Locking people in like pets?”
He didn’t even bother to offer attention to whatever I had to say. His gaze was elsewhere when he responded; “Pets get rewarded for obedience. You haven’t earned that yet.”
He moved past me, slowly. The scent of his cologne lingered, clean and expensive. He stopped by the table, set down a black case, and unlatched it with a quiet click.
Inside, something gleamed… polished platinum, smooth and sleek like a piece of art.
“Wear it,” he said.
I stared. “What the hell is that?”
“Proof that I don’t trust you.”
I laughed once, sharp. “Then we finally agree on something.”
He didn’t argue. He just closed the case halfway and pushed it toward me.
“You’ll change your mind. They all do.”
That did it. I grabbed the note from this morning and threw it at him. “What do you want from me, Julian? You already own everything!”
He didn’t raise his voice. Or even do as much as blink. “Not everything. Not yet.”
It wasn’t a threat. It was a fact. Cold and absolute.
“What does that even mean?” I demanded.
“You’ll understand,” he said, “when you stop fighting and start listening.”
I pushed past him, but he caught my wrist before I made it two steps. His grip was firm, too firm, but not violent.
“You think this is about love?” he asked quietly. “That would’ve been kinder.”
“Then what the hell is it about?”
“Debt. Power. Balance.” His eyes caught the light, sharp and empty. “Call it whatever makes you sleep at night.”
I wanted to hit him. Scream at him. Instead, I yanked my hand free and backed away. He just stood there, studying me like a puzzle he’d already solved.
Then he gestured at the bracelet again.
“You can wear it voluntarily,” he said. “Or I can have it clasped while you sleep.”
My voice cracked around the words. “You’re insane.”
“No, Eli.” A faint curve touched his mouth. “I’m efficient.”
Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. I could hear the soft tick of the wall clock, every second dragging out.
“You can cage me all you want,” I said finally. “You’ll never own me.”
Julian’s smirk deepened just slightly. “You said something similar at the altar too. Yet here you are; wearing my name. You don't even have a name anymore Eli. You're Julian’s wife, no longer Eli.”
“I'm not even a woman. Why are you doing this? Oh my gosh, you infuriate me.”
He turned toward the door, unhurried as always.
Just before leaving, he added,
“One more thing. The interview airs tonight. Smile when they call. I told them you were the one who begged for the wedding.”
I blinked. “You what?”
“Control the story,” he said without turning. “Control the chaos. You’ll thank me later.”
The door shut behind him with a soft click. The lock re-engaged.
Something inside me snapped. I grabbed the champagne bottle from the breakfast tray and hurled it at the wall. It exploded in a glitter of glass and foam, running down the marble like spilled blood.
Then the speakers crackled to life.
Julian’s voice again. Soft and mocking: “Temper, temper, darling. You’ll break something valuable.”
I looked up.
One of the cameras blinked red.
Then the light went out. And with it, everything else.
Total blackout.
And from the dark, a whisper slid through the speakers; low, deliberate, unmistakably him:
“Lesson one, Eli... obedience isn’t about fear. It’s understanding who holds the leash. There’s no fear left to feel when you already belong to me.”