The guards at the mansion let her in without question, their eerie silence unsettling. Everything about the place screamed wealth, power, and danger. As she walked inside, the sheer beauty of the mansion momentarily stole her breath—but there was no time to dwell on it.

A maid guided her upstairs, and soon, she found herself in front of his office. Taking a deep breath, she knocked.

"Come in."

She stepped inside. He was lounging on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, legs spread in an effortless display of dominance. It was as if he had been expecting her.

Ayelet hesitated at the threshold of his office, her heart hammering in her chest.

The grandeur of the mansion had already stunned her, but the tension in the air as she stepped inside was suffocating. 

His dark eyes pinned her in place the moment she entered.

She swallowed hard, her fingers trembling at her sides as she walked forward. Her legs felt heavy, like she was dragging the weight of her entire miserable existence with her.

She halted a few steps away, standing straight despite the exhaustion gnawing at her bones.

I accept the deal," she said, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her

A flicker of amusement crossed his sharp features. He tilted his head slightly, examining her. "That fast? No protests? No hesitation? What made you take the decision so quickly?"

Ayelet bit her lip, her chest tightening.

The memories came rushing back like a tidal wave—the disgusting way her landlord had looked at her, his vile words, the way his rough hands had grabbed her wrist.

The terror, the helplessness. The moment she realized she had nowhere else to go.

Her lips parted, but no words came out at first. Then, as if a dam had broken, she whispered, "Because I had no choice."

The smirk on his lips faltered. His expression shifted slightly—barely noticeable, but she caught it. His eyes darkened, his jaw clenched.

"Explain," he ordered, his tone softer but carrying an unmistakable weight.

Ayelet sucked in a shaky breath.

She didn’t want to tell him—she didn’t want to relive it. But something in his gaze made her believe that he wouldn’t tolerate lies or half-truths.

So, with her hands curling into fists, she forced herself to speak.

"My landlord," she began, her voice almost cracking.

"He—he told me I needed to pay rent today. I told him I needed more time, that I'd have the money soon, but... he didn't care."

 Her fingers dug into her palms.

"He said I could pay in a different way. He—" her throat burned, and she had to force the next words out, "he tried to force himself on me."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop instantly.

Her words hung in the air like a curse. Silence stretched between them, suffocating and heavy. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, so she focused on the floor, on her own trembling hands.

Then she heard it—a sharp inhale, controlled but telling.

She dared to glance up.

His eyes were unreadable, but the tension in his posture was palpable.

His fingers twitched, his jaw tightened, and for the briefest moment, something dangerous flickered behind his calm facade.

Rage.

His expression turned cold again, his body language composed, but Ayelet knew what she saw.

What happened next?" he asked, his voice eerily calm.

She swallowed hard. "I fought back. I hit him with a lamp and ran. He... didn’t stop me, but I knew he would come back. I ran until I couldn’t anymore. And then I came here."

Silence.

You have to marry me."

Ayelet stiffened. "What?"

"That’s the deal. You want my protection? You become mine."

Her heart pounded. She knew this was coming, she knew what accepting the deal meant—but hearing him say it, hearing the finality in his voice, sent a shiver down her spine.

He leaned back again, his lips curling slightly at her hesitation. "What made you cry, sweetheart?"

His voice was softer now, almost mocking but not quite. It felt more like an observation than a taunt. But Ayelet shook her head, blinking back tears. She had cried enough for today. She had no more room for weakness.

"It doesn’t matter anymore," she whispered. "Nothing does."

A smirk returned to his lips. "Oh, but it does." He stood up, towering over her, his presence overwhelming. "Go home. Pack your things. You belong here now."

Ayelet should have felt trapped. She should have felt suffocated.

Instead, for the first time in a long time, she felt safe.