My kiss on his knuckles wasn't submission; it was a seal. 

No more humiliation. No more betrayal. No more cheating.

Just as I pulled away, his grip turned to iron, eyes darkened, “Do you swear on your life, Kristine?”

My throat dried at the intensity but playing along, I nodded firmly.

“I swear on my life, Zayne,”  

Zayne's smirk didn’t fade. Instead, it sharpened, into a victorious, devilishly, predatory one that was beyond my comprehension. 

“Good girl,” he hummed and stepped back.

“Let’s cover the loopholes before proceeding,”

“What loopholes?” 

“The public needs to see a united front. The engagement announcement needs to be real, immediate, and utterly convincing.” 

He pulled out his phone, already conveying a series of orders into it that required immediate obedience. 

“Get me a line to JNews. I demand a live, streamed interview with Lia James in thirty minutes. Tell them Mr. Nightwood and Miss Iglesias have a major personal announcement.”

He snapped the phone shut, his eyes returning to me with chilling coldness, his eyes judged me, observing all of my inches.

“What?” 

“You look too casual, Kristine, for the interview. Fix the look. You are not that loser’s girlfriend anymore, you are my soon-to-be bride. Look like one,” he ordered dominantly, taking me by surprise.

I blinked, standing like a statue, registering his words because such swift progression was not a part of my plan. 

He was about to go back to his phone but paused, “Why are you still standing? Go,”

“Okay,” 

Exactly thirty minutes later, dressed formally, I sat beside him in his private conference room, pumping my blood in anticipation.

The meticulous setting was done to look both intimate and luxurious. Soft lights, sheer supremacy, and a branded window view of the city skyline. 

‘Take that, Edric!’ I thought victoriously.

With a sly smile, our one hand was intertwined as a display of affection. His other hand spread across the headrest, asserting his dominance. 

“We are live in three, two...” 

Clearing her throat, the interview went live, people started watching immediately, filled with intrigue to know what we had to say about the pregnancy.

“Welcome, viewers,” the interviewer, Lia James, beamed. 

“We are here with Zayne Nightwood and Kristine Iglesias, following the… scandalous news of their unexpected pregnancy.”

“The word ‘scandal’ is inaccurate, Lia,” Zayne interrupted, his voice deep, smooth, and laced with a strange affection.

“What is accurate then, Mr. Nightwood?” 

Zayne turned his head slowly, meeting mine. An unreadable gleam flickered as he squeezed my hand possessively.

My eyes twitched, failing to read through his actions when he lifted our joined hands and kissed the back of my palm.

“This is not a scandal. Merely a surfacing of a complicated, irresistible, and forbidden relationship.” He paused, letting the implication hang, gaining all the attention. 

“A passion we can no longer hide due to our baby,”

Pressing my knuckles under his cheek, he immaculately displayed his affection openly, convincing everyone due to the fake softness.

Even I felt the heat rise, my beats amplified, studying his mystifying expressions shifting smoothly to solidify this act. 

Playing my part too, I forced myself to lean into him, resting my head lightly on his shoulder. 

It felt shockingly natural when our eyes locked in such public proximity. 

“Are you confirming what the world is hoping for, Mr. Nightwood? That you are committing to Kristine and the child?”

Lia gasped, she knew she was going to receive a bonus. 

Zayne didn’t break the stare, his expression melting into something intensely tender. He tucked a stray strand of my hair behind her ear, tracing his fingers on my jawline, inducing a fire in my body.

“Kristine Iglesias is going to be my wife in two weeks.” he declared, earning a series of gasps. 

What the fuck? We didn’t discuss that!

“What?” My eyes widened.

“June. Ring.”

“Yes, Sir,”

Shifting back slightly, his hand extended when his assistant placed the beautiful carved box in his palm only to reveal a spellbinding ring.

He was daring me to break character, smirking while sliding the ring smoothly into my finger, sealing this act officially.

I took my cue though my heart pounded at an irregular pace, shocked and disheartened at the same time by the way things turned. 

Not the future I imagined. 

But, this was certainly the path I had chosen. 

I must not stray from it and uphold my frontage too. 

Subsequently, I stared at Zayne as if he was my entire world. The man who had pulled me from the wreckage of my previous relationship.

My Savior. 

“We are absolutely ecstatic to be welcoming our child and we are announcing our engagement. Let’s live happily ever after, Dear,”

Liar. All of it is a lie, a voice screamed in her head. But the camera saw only devotion and so did my pretty eyes. 

“Of course… Dear,” I smirked, my gaze darkening.

He saw my strong desire for vengeance, and it made him chuckle.

“Miss Iglesias, many are saying this is a sudden, dramatic shift from your relationship with Mr. Carton. Can you address the claims that this new relationship was born out of revenge?” Lia pressed.

I sat up straight, letting go of Zayne only to place one hand flat on my chest and another towards the camera to show off the diamond ring.

“Edric and I… we have closed that chapter,” I said, injecting just enough sadness to make it believable. 

“The pain was real, yes. But Zayne, he showed me what real commitment and passion felt like.”

“We wish Mr. Carton well, but we are focused on our future.”

He spoke up first, setting up clear-cut boundaries before Lia could make another judgement.

“Also, if anyone tries to interfere with my fiancée, they will be dealt with severely.”

Zayne continued from my side, hand pressing firmly on my shoulder to serve the perfect ending - a strict warning.

“Obviously. Good luck to you two,” 

The interview was a smashing success. 

But, the time things wrapped up and everyone was gone, I pulled away roughly from him, my jaw dropping.

“What the hell was that, Zayne? Two weeks? Don’t you think it’s too early?”

He simply unbuttoned his suit jacket with a grace that made my skin prickle and straighten up.

“You swore on your life, Kristine. Did you think a 'seal' was just a poetic gesture?” He asked in a low, tempting tone, pushing me down on the couch, shifting on top of me.

“I thought it was a partnership.” I whispered when he was right before me, his hot body trapping me.

He reached out, his fingers unhooking my dress’s front, exposing the cleavage for his displeasure, pulling me sharply into his space.

"Ah, stop it..." I gasped.

My hands instinctively landed on his chest to push him away but it was too late, he was already down, his face buried in my chest.

His wetness soaking through the skin, arousing my body undeniably by the tension. My head unknowingly tilted back, giving him further access.

“Ah, stop it… So- Some will see–” 

His breath was a hot caress against my neck, biting down my shoulder, evoking a moan.

His hand slid inside my shirt, kissing my exposed skin passionately, blinding my senses to focus on the building pleasure. 

"Say it," he commanded huskily, his teeth grazing my earlobe, giving my breast a rough squeeze.

“Say you understand who owns this story.”

“Ah! I… I…” 

My face flushed, gripping his shirt weakly as I could feel myself getting wetter by his dominance. 

His knee refuses to let me close my legs, tongue trailing a sinful path on my neck, controlling my heartbeats on the tip of his fingers.

But, before we could process, the door knocked and slightly opened, “Sir the–”

Zayne’s eyes darkened, glaring towards the door, “Out. Now.” 

His assistant, absolutely frightened of his reaction, scrambled away.

Zayne turned back to me, his shirt already undone, exposing the enticing abs. He pulled my legs around his waist, forcing me into a heated contact.

“Can’t you see I am about to teach soon-to-be Mrs. Nightwood a lesson?”  

“Zayne–” 

“Shh. It's alright.” Before I could resist, he had his thumb tracing my lower lips before putting it in my mouth.

“I am going to make you understand who holds the authority in this relationship, Kristine.” 

“That’s right, Baby. Scream. Tell me who owns you now.” Zayne demanded darkly, thrusting with a force that earned him a sharp cry.

“You…! You do!” I whimpered, biting my lips to muffle the sound but to no avail. He had decided to spin my world and fuck obedience into me. 

My head was hanging low, gripping the cushion with his toned chest firmly pressed over my back, driving into me from behind with a ferocity that made the world vanish.

His heated body was right over mine, one hand on my hip, other over my throat, choking me and I swayed in pleasure.

The intimacy was raw, a collision of anger and an attraction so toxic it induced a dark thrill I never experienced in my entire life. 

He was punishing me with his touch, asserting his dominance in every movement, every breath, and every sharp, demanding kiss.

“You want to question me, Kristine? Then learn the cost.” he murmured, biting down my shoulder and giving me a sudden, hard thrust that tore a surprised gasp. 

“Every time you push, I will pull back harder. Every time you think you’re independent, I will remind you exactly who you belong to.” He growled, biting my earlobe, “Do you fucking get it now?”

Shutting my eyes, my body, my soul, all of my was solely focused on ecstasy. My heartbeats increase, the heat growing wilder yet I was seeking more of this immoral pleasure. 

“Yes..! Yes, I do! I am yours! All yours!” 

“Good girl.”

Shutting my eyes, it wasn’t long before we climaxed, reaching the peak of euphoria where despite the doubts, I wanted to keep coming back to him for more.

To become all his, to bear all his marks.

… What is that stranger doing to me?

“Finally you are listening.” He hummed, planting a passionate kiss on my lips, his marks blooming on my body.

Zayne pulled away as I fell on the couch, I was a trembling, breathless mess. I stared up at him with wide eyes, my heart  beating at a rapid pace. 

“Get dressed.” He ordered, straightening his back. 

He slowly adjusted pants, looking entirely back in control while I was shattered. My head is hazy, trying to make my surroundings. 

He looked down at me, the predator satisfied with his kill.

Taking a deep breath, I tidy myself up, my face burning from embarrassment, fidgeting my fingers anxiously around my dress. 

I quickly gathered my things and turned to sprint but he caught my wrist and threw me back on the couch.

“Wait, I am not done with you yet. Sign the agreement.” He spoke dominantly, stopped right before me.

My heart skipped a beat, my throat drying, “....What agreement?”

I was frozen in my place as he walked towards the bar, making a drink for us. His hair was messy, sweat beautifully glistening on his pumped shoulder, not bothering to wear his shirt.

Rubbing my thighs together, I was ogling at his desirable body standing in the dim lights as he offered me a drink. 

“Here. Drink.” 

I took it with both hands, “Thank you.”

“You asked for my help to make Edric grovel, you need me, ”

He took a file from the drawer and slammed the thick file in my hands, featuring hardening. 

I looked down. It wasn’t a marriage contract. 

It was a several pages thick pre-nuptial agreement.

“And I need my wife, Kristine. I need you to be mine. Now. No more resistance.” He literally ordered, leaving no place for disobedience or negotiations.

Detailing property, money, and most importantly, an iron-clad clause about the custody of ‘our’ future child. 

“Was it necessary?” I asked in a shaky breath.

“Yes, sign it so we can start preparing for the wedding in two weeks. There is a lot to do,” 

“Two weeks is too soon, Zayne!” I snapped.

“Do you want me to knock senses into you again?” He warned, raising his one brow perfectly. 

The warning was clear, and too dangerous.

“No.” I shook my head innocently.

“That’s what I thought.” He hummed, taking a sip of his drink. 

Throwing the file on the table, I was losing my composure at the abrupt demands coming from this man as if I hadn’t just screamed my submission minutes ago.

“And this agreement. Do you think just because you fucked me once, got me pregnant is enough to let you own me?” 

​He stepped forward enough to invade my personal space where I could feel the heat radiating from him. My mouth shut close, shoulder tensing when a powerful intimidating aura emerged.

​“Yes,” he gave a clear-cut reply. 

“This is simple, Kristine. You get your vengeance. I get full legal custody and all assets secured for the child. And yours.”

​His hand sliding up my arm, his thumb pressing on my neck, weakening my body to submit.

My head tilted from the spark of his touch, but his thumb forced me to stare as a victorious smirk came to his lip. 

“Unless you don’t want to,” 

He knew I had no other choice. He knew I was desperate.  He was taking advantage of it.

“Fine, asshole,” 

My jaw clenched, hitting his chest to create some distance between us in order to sign.

My core screamed danger, to think twice about my reckless decision, but I was willing to take the risk, not only for revenge but for a secure future.

Nonetheless, disregarding the danger, I signed them, “There. We are done. I am leaving.”

“Sure, I am not caging you here… not yet,” 

He let out a dark chuckle, I stopped, giving him enough time to approach me like a hunter.

Glancing over my shoulder, I snarled, “I won’t even let you cage me,” 

“Keep telling yourself that, Kristine,” he smirked, his lips right against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. 

“It won’t change the outcome.”

He pulled back, enough to look into my soul, reflecting all the dark intents.

“Because in two weeks, you will find out that I don’t just keep what is mine.”

His eyes darkened with a hunger that made my knees weak, enunciating the fate I was choosing blindly.

"I devour it.”