Your phone rings at 1:12 a.m.

Your brother’s name flashes across the screen.

You sigh, already dreading the conversation. Probably another favor. Another mess to clean up.

You answer, voice groggy, heart still aching from the weeks that followed him.

“Hello?”

But it’s not your brother.

It’s a voice you swore you’d never hear again.

“Hello love~”

Your heart stops.

Your breath leaves you in a sharp, cold rush.

That voice was once your home. Now it feels like a cage door slamming shut.

You sit up in bed. Fingers tightening around the phone.

“Bucky.”

A low chuckle slides down the line.

“You sound surprised.”

You swallow.

“What do you want?”

“Funny,” he murmurs, “I should be the one asking you that. Considering I gave you everything, and you still ran.”

Silence.

Then—more softly, more deadly:

“I offered you my world, doll. You turned it down.”

You close your eyes.

“I couldn’t be your wife, Bucky.”

“No,” he agrees, “but you’ll be something.”

Your stomach turns.

“I’m not yours anymore.”

His voice drops to a whisper.

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

You hear a door open in the background. A quiet cry. Something inside you twists.

“Your brother?” he adds, almost lazily. “He shouldn’t have sold your name for protection.”

Your mouth goes dry.

He knows where you are.

He always did.

“You don’t get to decide this,” you whisper.

He hums.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“That was before.”

A pause.

Then—cold. Final.

“Now you’re mine. Not my wife. Not my queen. Just mine. " And then your apartment door CLICKS