Bound by Lust

Esme walked briskly across the room, trying to steady her breath and regain her composure. The adrenaline from the confrontation was still coursing through her veins, her body humming with the aftermath of the tense exchange. She didn't dare glance back at Kael, though she could feel his presence looming in the space behind her. His silence was like a weight pressing down on her, but she refused to let it break her.

She reached the door and stopped, her hand resting on the doorknob. She didn't want to be the one to give in first. She didn't want to be the one to show him she was rattled.

But something inside her stirred—something that made her pause, her mind replaying the words she had said. She was still angry. She was still hurt. But a small part of her knew that pushing Kael away, playing this game of distance, might only make things worse.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around slowly, facing Kael once more. He hadn't moved an inch since she had pulled away from him. His eyes were trained on her, sharp and calculating, and she couldn't help but feel the weight of his gaze on her skin.

"I'm not finished with this," Esme said, her voice a little steadier now. "You think you can just walk away from everything? From me? From what's happening between us?"

Kael's lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk, though there was no warmth in it. "What's happening between us?" he repeated, his voice mocking. "I think you know better than anyone that there's nothing to be done about that. This is a deal. A contract. And you signed up for it."

Esme bristled, the words cutting deeper than she expected. She had known it from the start—had known their engagement was never about love. But hearing him say it, so bluntly, stung in a way she hadn't anticipated.

"This isn't just a deal for me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, the frustration rising in her chest again. "I'm not some pawn you can push around. I'm your fiancée, Kael. You don't get to treat me like I don't exist, like I don't matter."

Kael's expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly. He took a slow step forward, and Esme's breath caught in her throat. The air between them crackled with tension, and she fought to keep herself steady.

"Do you think I owe you something?" Kael's voice was low, dangerous, the edge sharp. "Do you think I owe you anything more than what's already been promised to you?"

Esme stood her ground, her heart hammering in her chest. She didn't know why she felt the need to fight for something that wasn't there—why she was putting so much into this, when Kael had made it clear from the beginning that he didn't care. But she couldn't help herself.

"I think you owe me more than just your indifference," she said, her voice trembling with emotion now. "I think you owe me the decency of acting like I matter to you in some way. We're about to get married, Kael. We're supposed to be partners in this. But you treat me like I'm invisible. Like I'm not worth anything to you."

There was a long, heavy silence, and for a moment, Esme thought Kael might say something. But all he did was stare at her, his expression unreadable, his jaw tight with restrained anger.

"I don't owe you anything more than what we've already agreed to," he finally said, his voice cold and distant. "You're right. This is a business arrangement, Esme. Nothing more."

Esme's heart sank, and a part of her—an honest, raw part—ached at the finality of his words. She knew what she had signed up for, but hearing him confirm it in such an indifferent tone made it feel so much more real, so much more painful.

She took a step back, the weight of his words settling like a stone in her chest. She had to remind herself that this was what she had wanted—what she had chosen. She couldn't back down now. But in that moment, all the anger she had felt toward him morphed into something else. Something raw and vulnerable.

"Fine," she said, her voice quieter now, barely above a whisper. "But don't expect me to keep fighting for something that doesn't exist."

She turned to leave, but before she could, she heard Kael's voice again, more measured this time, though still icy.

"I never asked you to fight, Esme. I never made any promises."

Esme's breath hitched in her throat, but she didn't stop. She didn't turn around to face him again. Instead, she walked away, determined to find some semblance of control—some way to keep her dignity intact.

As she left the room, Kael's presence seemed to follow her, an invisible weight hanging in the air. But Esme knew this wasn't over. She wasn't going to let herself be treated like a disposable part of Kael's world. She had a choice to make, and she would make it—whether it meant fighting for something she couldn't have or walking away from the entire charade.

But in that moment, as she moved further away from Kael, she couldn't help but wonder if she was already too deep in.

****. ****. ****.