This turn of events was undoubtedly horrifying, both for the person she was now and the person she’d been in her past life.
From that day forward, Yates Donovan held her captive in his suburban villa.
She had no idea what was happening.
At first, she asked him naively, "I... I didn’t do anything to her. Are you trying to get revenge on me for her?"
"Her?" The man leaned in from behind, his long fingers lazily hooking a strand of her hair and twirling it. "And who might ’she’ be?"
"Se-Serena Grant. Your fiancée."
"Hmm?" The man drew closer from behind, his warm breath tickling her ear as he spoke.
Seeing her ears turn red, he chuckled and leaned in, his lips brushing against the blush. Then, in a whisper, as if sharing a secret, he said, "But aren’t you my fiancée?"
"Are you kidding me? Our engagement is off!"
"But aren’t you dying to be with me?" he demanded, grabbing her hand and forcefully interlocking their fingers.
"Weren’t you the one making a scene and threatening to kill yourself over me just a few days ago?"
Their clasped hands rested on her stomach—an intimate, yet jarring sight.
"I’m here now. You should be happy."
"So why are you so tense? Don’t tell me everything you said before was a lie?"
"I..." Her mind was a mess. ’If I admit it,’ she thought, ’this won’t end well for me.’
"Good girls don’t lie."
As he spoke, he slowly rested his chin on her slender shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against hers through the curtain of her long hair.
Forced to look up, she started to speak, but her eyes suddenly caught sight of the bench at the foot of the bed. Peeking out from under his jacket was the corner of a pitch-black gun barrel.
It was aimed right at her.
Her shoulders trembled. She tried to pull back, but the man behind her simply pulled her into his arms.
His wicked laugh echoed in her ear. "What’s wrong?"
"Cold? Is the AC on too low?"
...
He acted as if he had no idea what was going on.
She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to ask, "Are you going to kill me?"
He sounded genuinely puzzled. "Why would you ask that?"
"Then why did you drag me here?"
He laughed and called her cute.
"I thought you were just playing dumb, but it turns out you’re actually this clueless."
"Didn’t I just tell you? I’m here to give you what you want."
"You... like me?"
She was at a loss.
The man considered it for a moment. "You can think of it that way if you want."
"...So you don’t. You like Serena Grant."
"So you’re... humiliating me like this? To get revenge for her?"
He flicked her on the forehead.
"Oh? That was a nice, crisp sound. Must be a good head on your shoulders."
...
’Psycho!’
"Let me go!"
"Tsk." The man’s patience was wearing thin. Clearly, he was done talking.
He pressed down on her shoulder, his voice turning vicious. "Do you see those men outside?"
The door was open, and the hallway was lined with his bodyguards.
All of them had their backs turned, their heads bowed as they stared at their feet, doing their best to fade into the background.
Then she heard Yates Donovan’s low voice, "If I wanted revenge, they would be more than enough."
’Enough for what?’
Her blood ran cold. Her voice caught in a sob. "No... I..."
"Crying already?" Yates Donovan clicked his tongue in mock annoyance. The arms that had been loosely holding her now tightened, trapping her completely. "What are you so scared for? They wouldn’t dare even look at you."
"If anyone so much as glances at you, I’ll gouge their eyes out. How does that sound?"
"Sweetheart, you’re mine. I could never let them have you."
He grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to turn her head and meet his eyes.
"Tsk."
Staring at her tear-filled eyes, he seemed displeased. "You act so tough in front of everyone else, don’t you?"
"Have you kissed anyone else?"
She was about to answer when he sighed. "Never mind. Have you done it?"
"What?" She didn’t understand. "Done what?"
Yates Donovan gave her a deep look, then buried his face in the crook of her neck and started laughing.
She froze, her already fragile nerves about to snap.
’What the hell does this psycho want!’
"I... When can I get out?"
"Depends on my mood."
...
"Are you in a hurry to leave?"
Meeting his gaze, she subconsciously shook her head.
’Staying alive is what matters.’
He smiled, satisfied, and pressed a kiss to the pale curve of her neck.
"You love me. You can’t leave me. You can’t live without me. Isn’t that right?"
When she didn’t answer, a sharp pain blossomed on her neck where he sucked down hard.
’It hurts!’
"Yes," she answered, her voice trembling.
He seemed to be in a good mood and had someone bring food in for her.
She stayed in that room for half a month.
Yes, a full half-month, without ever leaving the room.
Yates Donovan would come over every day.
Mostly at night.
Mia Grant lay carefully by his side, curled up like a snail hiding in its shell.
Unfortunately, even the hardest shell is fragile in the face of absolute power.
「Later, he let her leave.」
In public, their relationship seemed unchanged.
He was still Serena Grant’s fiancé.
And she was still the fake heiress, abandoned after her engagement was called off.
Life went on.
Just when she’d begun to think that half a month had been nothing but a nightmare, Yates Donovan somehow found a way to contact her.
*You and Silas Grant are getting pretty close. You like him, don’t you?*
She didn’t reply, but she didn’t dare to block him either.
After that, he escalated, harassing her constantly.
On the verge of a breakdown, she finally replied: *If you keep this up, I’ll tell everyone what you did to me! You and Serena Grant will be finished!*
*Fine. I’ll be waiting.*
’Turns out words can have a voice,’ she thought. As soon as she read them, she could hear the man’s wicked tone.
He didn’t care at all.
Perhaps he felt that his marriage to Serena Grant was a done deal, that no one could change it.
Even if their scandal was exposed, she would be the one who was silenced, forced to take all the blame.
Everyone would assume that she, the fake heiress, had climbed into Mr. Donovan’s bed to secure her position.
*Stay away from them.*
*Let me see you get that close to them again, and I’ll drag you back, lock you up, and fuck you senseless.*
She smashed her phone, still unable to understand how she had provoked this madman.
They had hardly interacted at all.
Fortunately, they rarely saw each other after that. The most she heard from him was the occasional one-sided text message.
「Not long before Serena Grant’s birthday party, they ran into each other by chance.」
He dragged her to his private room, where she was forced to listen to him drink and chat with his disreputable friends.
Someone told him that Serena Grant had been getting very close to Kian Keller recently.
The man snorted.
"Looks like Mr. Donovan isn’t afraid of being cuckolded."
"Let her. I’ll kill anyone who dares." Mr. Donovan flicked his cigarette ash, his tone nonchalant.
"Oh? Just the one? Or the pair of them?"
"If they’re so in love, then the lovebirds can die together."
Suddenly, the girl in his arms trembled.