The heavy iron gates of the estate had felt like the jaws of a trap closing behind her, but the house itself was a monolith of cold authority. Built from dark stone and reinforced glass, the "secondary" residence sat on a ridge overlooking the main manor where his first wife still lived, designed to be a gilded cage with a view of the man who owned it.

Inside, the ceilings were vaulted and shadows stretched long across the marble floors. There was no warmth here—only the quiet hum of an expensive climate control system and the suffocating scent of leather and cedar.

The front door opened with a heavy, deliberate thud that echoed through the foyer. Julian Vane did not just enter a room; he reclaimed it. At forty-five, his presence was a physical weight, his frame tall and broad-shouldered, clad in a bespoke suit that cost more than her father’s house. He didn't look like a husband; he looked like a conqueror surveying a minor province. He didn't remove his overcoat as he stalked into the main living area. He stopped ten feet away from her, his hands clasped behind his back, his dark eyes scanning her with the cold, analytical precision of a diamond merchant.

"Stand up," he commanded. The tone wasn't loud, but it carried the absolute expectation of obedience. "Your father spent eighteen years raising you, yet it only took him eighteen minutes to trade you away to clear his ledger."

He took a slow, intimidating step closer, his shadow falling completely over her as he tilted his head, watching her every flinch. He reached into his inner pocket and produced a small, leather-bound ledger, tossing it onto the marble coffee table between them.

"I have no use for a weeping child in this house," he said, his voice dropping to a low, predatory rumble. "You live under my roof and by my coin now. That means you follow my structure. There are three primary rules you will memorize before I leave this room tonight."

He began to pace a slow circle around her, like a shark circling prey.

"First, you do not leave this house without my express permission or my security detail. Your world has shrunk to these four walls until I decide otherwise. Second, you will be dressed and ready to receive me at any hour; I do not appreciate being kept waiting in a house I paid for. And third, you will never contact your father again. He sold his interest in you—you are my liability now, not his daughter."

He stopped directly in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. "Do you understand? Or am I going to regret not simply taking your father’s life instead?"