"Your wife-to-be?" Quinn echoed, raising a brow, his eyes never leaving Belle for even a moment. This could not possibly be the same woman he had divorced a year prior. Everything about her was strikingly different. Her figure had filled out, her features more pronounced and alluring. It was as though she had become an entirely new person.
His gaze traveled downward, noting how her hips now swayed with a graceful fullness, and her form exuded a confident charm. This was the Belle he had first fallen in love with, only with a touch more allure. Annoying, old memories began flooding back, stirring something within him he couldn't quite place. What was this feeling? He reminded himself of his disdain for her, whether Belle was slim or curvaceous, she would never have the power to make him love her again.
"Oh, I see the confusion, Quinn," Hezekiah remarked, noticing the intensity of Quinn's stare. Drawing Belle closer to him, he added with deliberate clarity, "But it is as it stands, she is mine now."
Quinn's jaw tightened. *She is mine?* The phrase struck him like a whip. Belle could marry whoever she pleased, yet to him, she would always belong to him. In his mind, their bond was unbreakable, and she would never truly escape him.
"I trust you recall she is my former wife," Quinn began, his tone laced with venom. "Her purity was mine to take, her innocence tainted by me. If you intend to take her as a mistress, that is acceptable…"
Before Quinn could finish, Hezekiah's fist shot out, landing a sharp punch across his face. The blow sent Quinn staggering, completely unprepared for such a response.
"You will not insult my woman, Quinn!" Hezekiah thundered, his voice reverberating through the hall. "I care not for the friendship we once shared, you will respect me as your king and her as your queen." His gaze darkened, unyielding, a silent promise of consequences for any further disrespect.
Chuckling darkly, Quinn spat blood onto the floor and wiped the corner of his lips with the back of his hand. "How amusing," he sneered. "You have claimed my scraps. Let us see how this ends." His laughter rang out, a sound that was both bitter and devilish.
"By all means, Quinn," Belle interjected sharply before Hezekiah could retort, a smirk tugging at her lips. "I trust that smile will remain on your face when all is said and done."
"Shall we make a wager, then?" Quinn proposed suddenly, his tone light but with an edge of danger. Sophia's face paled at the suggestion, her unease palpable. She knew that when Quinn suggested a bet, it was never something to take lightly.
"I have no interest in engaging in your games," Belle replied coldly, her disdain evident.
"Or are you simply afraid of losing to me?" Quinn taunted, a smug smile spreading across his face as if he had already won.
"Let us hear this wager," Hezekiah interjected, much to Belle's surprise. She turned to him, her brows furrowing in concern, but he offered her a reassuring smile.
Hezekiah understood Quinn far too well. If he was issuing this challenge, it was likely aimed at Belle's heart, a desperate attempt to soothe his wounded pride. Hezekiah also knew Quinn's tactics. While his chances of truly winning Belle's affection were slim, he was not devoid of cards to play. Still, Hezekiah was prepared, he had a card of his own to play too.
Quinn scoffed as he circled Belle and Hezekiah, his presence charged with an attempt to intimidate them, though Hezekiah remained unfazed.
"If I manage to win her heart in two months' time," Quinn declared, his voice tinged with arrogance, "I shall release her from my grasp and never trouble you both again. Should I fail, however, she becomes my slave." His words hung in the air, causing Belle to erupt in laughter at his foolishness.
"Do you truly believe I will be swayed by you after all these months?" Belle asked, her tone laced with derision. "If anything, it seems the delusional one here is you. But I, too, have a condition." She stood tall, unflinching, prepared to take him on. If he thought she was still the naïve fool who would sacrifice her happiness for him, he was sorely mistaken. She had nothing but contempt for him, for his smirk, for his confidence, everything about him made her want to see him fall.
"I cannot accept you back as my wife, regrettably," Quinn said, getting ahead of himself. Belle simply shook her head. What a fool he was! Why would she ever want to return to him?
After a brief pause, Belle spoke again, her voice firm and unwavering. "My condition is this: you shall relinquish 50% of your wealth to me."
A stunned silence fell over the room. Quinn stared at her, struggling to comprehend that it was truly Belle making such a bold demand.
"Are you afraid now?" Belle mocked, her arms crossed in defiance. She relished the sight of his disbelief, basking in the discomfort she had caused him.
"Since we are adding conditions," Quinn said, his voice taking on a more calculating tone, "I shall require one more: I insist on living in the palace for the entire two months. Deal or no deal?"
"Deal!" Both Hezekiah and Belle replied in unison.
"I shall take my leave now," Belle declared, eager to exit the hall.
Before Hezekiah could respond, she turned to leave, her steps quickening as she made her way to her chambers. Her heart raced, and her steps faltered, the weight of the moment making her stumble.
Unable to steady herself, she allowed her body to collapse, but before she could hit the ground, strong arms caught her and righted her.
"How is your husband-to-be treating you, I wonder?" A voice she dreaded whispered from behind, hot breath grazing her skin.
"Let go of me!" She ordered, struggling against him, but his grip tightened. The sensation of his breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine.
"I like that your body still reacts to my touch," Quinn murmured, his voice low and maddening. "You will always be mine, Belle."
"I will scream if you don't release me," she threatened, and with that, his hold loosened, though he did not let go completely.
"Perhaps it is not my body that reacts to your touch," Belle shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "but yours that cannot resist touching me." She pulled herself free and walked away, not looking back until she had disappeared down the corridor.
Quinn remained where she had left him, his mind turning over her words. Could it be that he couldn't resist touching her? The thought lingered, unsettling him in ways he couldn't quite grasp.