The car moved smoothly through the night, city lights casting flashes of gold and silver across Lucy's face. She stared out the window, her heart pounding and mind racing. The soft rustle of her silver dress filled the quiet space inside the car. Barry sat beside her, his hand resting lightly on hers, his thumb brushing her knuckles now and then.

She wished he wouldn't touch her.

From the corner of her eye, she could see his sharp black suit, the clean lines of his jacket, the cold strength in his jaw. He looked like a king on his way to claim his crown.

"You look worried." Barry said after a while, his voice low but clear.

Lucy didn't turn to him. "I'm not worried. I'm thinking." She muttered.

"About what?" His thumb kept stroking her hand. Slow and steady.

"About why I'm here. About what this night is for." Her voice was tight, as she chose her words carefully.

Barry smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're here because I want you here. That's reason enough." He stated.

Lucy bit her lip. "But what for? To be seen at your side? Like some trophy?" She asked, sadness evident in her voice.

His grip on her hand tightened just a little. "Don't say that."

"It's what it feels like." She stated.

Barry let go of her hand and leaned back, his face unreadable. "You think too much. Just enjoy the night."

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and stared out at the street again. Ahead of them, another black car carried Barry's guards. She could see its red brake lights glowing in the dark.

'Easy for him to say' She thought bitterly. 'He's the one in control.'

***

When they reached the grand hall where the ball was held, Lucy stepped out of the car, and the cool night air hit her bare shoulders. The building in front of them was huge, with tall pillars and lights that made it glow like gold. The sound of soft music and voices floated out through the open doors.

Barry came around the car and offered his arm. Lucy hesitated but took it. His grip was firm, like he wasn't going to let her go. Together, they walked up the steps, their steps in time, his head held high and hers low.

Inside, the hall was even grander. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, filling the room with soft light. The floor was marble, smooth and shining. People in gowns and suits moved like shadows, voices mixing with the soft music of the string band.

Lucy felt small, out of place. She could feel the weight of every glance that fell on her as she entered with Barry. Some people stared openly. Others whispered behind gloved hands. She kept her chin up, but inside, her stomach twisted.

Barry guided her through the room, stopping now and then to greet people. His voice was smooth and almost polite. His charm, cold but powerful. Lucy stood beside him, smiling when she had to, but saying little. The air smelled of perfume, champagne, and polished wood.

Then she heard a woman's voice.

"So, where's your fiancée tonight, Barry?"

Lucy blinked. Fiancée?

Barry's face didn't change. He gave a small smile. "Not here tonight."

The woman laughed lightly. "A shame. I was hoping to meet her. You hide her so well."

Barry said nothing more, just moved on, guiding Lucy toward the long table where glasses of wine waited.

Lucy felt like the floor had dropped from under her. She grabbed a glass with shaking fingers and turned to him.

"You're engaged?" she asked, voice low but hard.

Barry didn't look at her right away. He took a sip of his drink, eyes on the crowd. "Does it matter?"

"Does it..." She stopped herself, breathing hard. "You tell me I belong to you. You say I'm yours. But you're going to marry someone else?" She asked.

Barry met her eyes at last. His gaze was cool, steady. "That's business."

Lucy stared at him in shock. "Business? You call that business? What am I then? A side game?"

He set his glass down and took a step closer, so close she could feel the heat of him. "You're mine, Lucy. That hasn't changed. That won't change. What I do for business is something else."

Lucy's heart raced with anger. Her hands shook, and she clenched them into fists. "You can't have it both ways. You can't claim me and promise yourself to someone else."

"I can do whatever I want," Barry said, his voice quiet but firm. "And don't raise your voice here. Not in front of these people."

Lucy bit down hard on her lip, trying to hold back the flood of words she wanted to throw at him. She hated the way he made her feel, trapped, small, powerless.

Barry leaned in close, his mouth near her ear. "Smile, Lucy. Everyone's watching."

And she did. A small, forced smile, just enough to hide the storm inside her.

But as she stood there, pretending, she felt a chill run down her spine. The fine hairs on her neck rose. She felt eyes on her, not the polite glances of the guests, but something else. Something sharp, dark and dangerous.

She looked around, her heart thudding. The faces blurred together, smiling, laughing, drinking. But the feeling stayed. Like a weight on her chest.

Barry noticed her tense. "What is it?"

"Someone's watching me," she said quietly, her eyes scanning the room.

He frowned, his eyes sharp now. "Where?"

"I don't know. I can't see who. But I feel it."

Barry straightened, his hand resting lightly on her back. He guided her toward a quieter corner of the hall. His guards, standing near the walls, seemed to stiffen, their eyes more alert.

"Stay close to me." Barry said, voice low.

Lucy nodded, but her heart still raced. The music, the lights, the voices, they all seemed far away now. All she could focus on was that cold, crawling feeling at the back of her neck.

Barry spoke with a few men who came over to greet him, but his eyes kept moving around, watching the room, looking for the source of the danger Lucy felt.

Lucy tried to calm herself. She took a deep breath, the scent of roses and wine filling her nose. But it didn't help. The feeling wouldn't leave.

She leaned towards Barry, her voice soft but urgent. "I want to leave."

"We can't leave yet," he said, glancing down at her. "It would look strange."

"I don't care," Lucy whispered. "Please."

Barry studied her face, saw the fear in her eyes. His jaw tightened. "Ten more minutes," he said. "Then we leave."

Lucy nodded, trying to seem calm, but inside, her heart pounded hard against her ribs. She felt like everyone in the room could hear it.

The soft music floated around them, the kind that was supposed to ease your mind, but to her, it felt far away, like it came through water. The bright lights, the clink of glasses, the low hum of voices, all of it seemed distant. Her skin prickled, as if unseen eyes were on her, watching, judging and waiting.

Barry moved a step away as an older man came over. The man gave a small nod, his face polite, his smile thin. Barry's face changed in an instant. The sharp, cold edge faded, and in its place came a smooth charm, the kind that could fool anyone. His mouth curved in a small, easy smile. His eyes stayed cool, unreadable. He spoke in a low voice, too soft for Lucy to hear.

She caught the deep murmur of his words, nothing clear. The older man laughed once, a dry sound, then patted Barry on the arm before walking off.

Lucy watched him, heart tight. Barry stood tall, his suit neat, his shoulders squared. The man who had held her so close, who looked like he owned the room. She tried not to think about it, tried not to think of the woman he was meant to marry. The woman out there somewhere while he kept her tied up in his world.

He stepped back to her side, as if no time had passed at all. The music rose, gentle and sweet, and people clapped softly as a new song began. Barry's gaze met hers. For a breath, his eyes seemed to warm, but that cold edge never truly left. "Almost done," he said, his voice low.

Lucy started to answer, but just then a waiter passed by. The man moved with care, a silver tray steady in his hands. Two glasses of dark red wine sat on it, the light catching the liquid and making it shine. Small drops of water ran down the sides of the glasses.

Barry reached for one, fingers just brushing the stem.

Before she could think or stop herself, she snatched the glass that Barry was about to take. Her hand closed around the glass, and she raised it to her lips. She didn't know why she did it. Maybe she wanted to feel bold. Maybe she wanted to break the strange hold he had over her. Or maybe she just needed to do something, anything, to stop the rush of thoughts in her head.

Barry's brow lifted. His hand froze in the air. For a second, she thought he might snap at her. But he didn't. He let her have it, watching her in that calm, cold way of his. She sipped, the wine smooth on her tongue, but she barely tasted it. She braced herself, waiting for him to scold her.

But Barry just picked up the other glass and took a slow sip. His eyes never left hers. "You're full of surprises," he said rather softly.

Lucy opened her mouth to answer, but loud voices cut through the music. Across the room, two men stood close, their faces tight with anger. The mood in the room changed at once. One man shoved the other, hard enough that a chair toppled over with a loud crash.

Then it happened fast. Both men drew guns, their moves sharp and quick.

Gasps filled the air. The music stopped. Glasses clinked as people stepped back, shock on their faces. Some guests ducked, some froze, their wide eyes locked on the men.

Barry didn't flinch. His hand closed around Lucy's arm, firm but not rough. "Time to leave." he said, calm as ever, as if the room hadn't just turned into a fight ring.

He led her towards the doors. His guards were already in motion, their faces hard as they cleared the way. Barry didn't rush. He didn't look back. He didn't care about the fight behind them, not his mess, not his problem.

They stepped outside into the night. Cool air hit Lucy's face, but it didn't clear her head. Her heart still raced. Her mind still spun. Barry opened the car door for her. She slid in, her hands shaking. Barry got in beside her, started the car, and drove off.

The city lights flashed past, gold and white against the dark. Inside the car, it was quiet, but Lucy's heart wouldn't slow down. She stared at her hands. They trembled in her lap. She clenched them into fists, trying to stop it.

Barry glanced at her. "You're shaking," he said.

"I'm fine," she whispered. But she wasn't. The lie tasted bitter on her tongue.

Then the pain came. At first it was small... a tight twist in her belly. She frowned, shifted in her seat. But the pain grew. It felt like something inside her was twisting, tighter and tighter, like a hot knife cutting through her belly.

Her breath hitched. She pressed a hand to her stomach. Sweat broke out on her forehead. The city lights blurred as she doubled over a little, the seatbelt digging into her side.

Barry's mouth set in a hard line. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low but sharp.

"I... I don't know... my stomach hurts..." Lucy gasped. She tried to sit up straight, but the pain pushed her down again. It spread through her, like knives. She bit her lip, trying not to cry out.

Barry's hands tightened on the wheel. He glanced at her, then at the road. His mind worked fast, you could see it in his eyes. "What did you eat?" he asked, voice tight.

"Nothing... just the wine," Lucy whispered. Her voice sounded small, like it might break. The car seemed to shift around her.

Her head felt heavy, like it was full of water. A strange heat spread across her face. Then she felt something wet sliding from her nose. Slowly, thick and warm, it ran down to her lip.

Her fingers shook as she wiped it. When she looked at her hand, her heart dropped. Blood. Her eyes were filled with fear.

Barry's face changed. His jaw went tight. His eyes darkened as he stepped towards her. "Fuck," he said under his breath. The word felt loud in the heavy air.

Lucy heard him, but everything was starting to fade. The car spun once, then the darkness took over her.

FEW HOURS LATER

The room smelled faintly of medicine and fresh linen. The soft beeping of a monitor filled the quiet air. Lucy lay still, pale against the white sheets. A drip ran down into her arm, the clear liquid moving slowly. The doctor, an older man with sharp eyes and kind hands, checked her pulse and lifted her eyelids gently.

"She's stable now," the doctor said quietly. His voice was calm but firm. "The poison is leaving her system. She just needs rest. No more than a day or two, and she'll be fine."

Barry stood near the window, arms crossed, his face carved from stone. His dark suit made him seem even larger in the small room. He stared out at the night, the city lights far below.

"She saved your life," the doctor added, glancing at Barry.

Barry didn't move. "I didn't ask her to."

The doctor sighed but said nothing more. He packed his tools, gave final instructions to the maid, and left, his soft footsteps fading down the hall.

NEXT MORNING

The door creaked open and Vanessa stepped inside quietly. Her hair was messy, as if she'd dressed in a rush. Worry filled her eyes as she looked at Lucy.

"Oh, Lucy..." Vanessa whispered, moving to her side. She sat down on the chair by the bed and took Lucy's hand, holding it between hers. "What happened to you?"

She brushed a lock of Lucy's hair off her face, sighing deeply. "I heard what happened... I couldn't stay away. I had to see you."

Lucy stirred a little, a soft sound escaping her lips. Vanessa's face lit up.

"Lucy? Can you hear me?" Vanessa asked, leaning closer.

Lucy's eyelids fluttered, heavy like stone. She forced them open, blinking against the soft morning light. The room swam before her for a moment, then cleared. She saw Vanessa, felt her warm hands, and let out a weak breath.

"Vanessa?" Lucy's voice was soft, cracked. "What... what are you doing here?"

Vanessa smiled, though tears filled her eyes. "I came to see you, silly. You scared me. What were you thinking, grabbing that glass like that?"

Lucy tried to smile but failed. Her lips trembled instead. "I... I didn't think. I just... I don't know. I didn't know it was poisoned."

Vanessa shook her head. "You could've died, Lucy."

Lucy's throat tightened at the memory. "It was meant for him, wasn't it?"

Before Vanessa could answer, the door opened again. Barry stepped inside, his eyes dark and unreadable. He looked like he hadn't slept at all. His gaze fell on Lucy.

Vanessa stood up, stepping aside to give him space. "I'll... I'll leave you two alone."

Barry didn't look at her, just kept his eyes on Lucy. Vanessa gave Lucy's hand a final squeeze and left the room quietly.

Barry moved closer, slow and controlled. He stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at Lucy.

"You're awake," he said, voice low.

Lucy nodded, swallowing hard. "I guess I am."

Barry's gaze swept over her pale face, the drip in her arm, the faint stain of blood still near her lip. His jaw clenched, but his voice stayed calm.

"This is why you need to stay by my side," he said. "You see now? I have enemies, Lucy. Many. They're always watching. Waiting for a moment like this."

Lucy blinked up at him. "It was meant for you," she said softly.

Barry gave a small nod. "Yes. The poison was mine. But you took it instead."

She felt the weight of his words, heavy as stone. Her heart thudded weakly in her chest.

"Why do you care?" she whispered. "You said it yourself. You didn't ask me to."

Barry's eyes burned into hers. "You think I don't care because I didn't ask for it? Because I didn't beg for you to save me? That's not how this works. You're mine, Lucy. That means your life matters to me... whether you like it or not."

Lucy stared at him, torn between anger and something else. She didn't know what. "But you have a fiancée," she said, the bitterness clear in her voice. "Why not have her stand by your side? Why me?"

Barry's face darkened, but he stayed calm. "Business, Lucy. I told you. That's all she is."

Lucy turned her face away, staring at the window. "I don't want to be part of your world. I didn't want any of this."

Barry said nothing for a long moment. Then, with a voice low as a storm, he spoke. "None of us get what we want. We survive. That's all. And you're going to survive because I won't let anyone touch what's mine."

Lucy shut her eyes, too tired to argue.

Later that day, while Lucy slept again, Barry stood in the dark basement of one of his safe houses. The room smelled of sweat, fear, and blood. A man was tied to a chair, his face already bruised and bloody, his eyes wide with terror.

Barry stood in front of him, hands in his pockets, calm as ever.

"You spiked the wine," Barry said, voice flat. "I want to know who paid you. Who sent you."

The man trembled, blood dripping from his split lip. "I... I don't know names! They came to me... they offered money..."

Barry raised a hand. His guard struck the man hard across the face. The chair tipped but didn't fall. The man sobbed.

"Names," Barry said again. "Or you'll wish I'd killed you quick."

"I swear... I don't know!" the man cried. "It was just a job... please... "

Barry crouched down, his face inches from the man's. His eyes were cold, empty of mercy. "That girl who drank my glass... she almost died because of you. Do you know what that means?"

The man shook his head, crying now.

"It means you're going to pay," Barry said, his voice soft, like a whisper. "And when I'm done, you'll beg for death."

Barry stood up, gave a nod to his men. The sound of the man's screams filled the room as they began their work. Barry didn't flinch. He watched for a moment, then turned and walked away, his face unreadable.

Back at the mansion, the sun had dipped low, casting long shadows across the floors. Lucy woke up slowly, the pain dull but still there. She turned her head and saw Barry standing at the window again, his back to her.

"You're still here," she said softly.

Barry didn't turn. "Of course I am."

She studied him, the way he stood so still, like a statue. "What did you do?" she asked. "The one who poisoned you... what did you do to him?"

Barry's voice was quiet, but it sent chills down her spine. "I found out what I needed. And I made sure he won't try it again. Or anything at all."

Lucy swallowed, her mouth dry. She didn't ask more. She didn't want to know the details.

Barry turned at last, his eyes meeting hers. "You did a foolish thing last night, Lucy. But you showed me something too."

"What's that?" she whispered.

"You're not just mine by words," he said. "You proved it. And now, you'll stay close to me. For your safety... and for mine."

Lucy didn't answer. She just stared at him, the weight of his world pressing down on her more than ever before.