Chapter 11: The Chains Around Her Heart
Golden cages are still cages. And chains wrapped in silk still burn the skin.
---
Sophia sat at the dining table, her hands clenched in her lap, her throat dry.
The room was too quiet.
Too heavy.
Adrian sat at the head of the table, his presence consuming the space.
Servants moved around them, placing plates of food elegant dishes she barely recognized. The silverware gleamed under the soft chandelier light, the air thick with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm bread.
Sophia barely touched her plate.
The weight of last night pressed on her like an iron shackle, her body still aching, her mind spinning.
Adrian's gaze never left her.
He knew she wouldn't eat.
And he was waiting.
"You'll eat," he finally said, voice calm, commanding.
Sophia's fingers dug into her dress.
She refused to look at him.
"I'm not hungry," she muttered.
A sharp silence filled the air.
Then—
The sound of Adrian setting his fork down.
Slow. Deliberate.
Her chest tightened.
He wiped his mouth with his napkin before leaning back in his chair, his eyes dark and unreadable.
"Sophia."
She swallowed hard.
"Eat."
It wasn't a request.
Her pulse hammered. She hated this. Hated the way he controlled everything even the simple act of eating.
Her hand trembled as she picked up the fork.
She forced herself to take a bite.
Adrian's smirk was subtle, but it was there.
A silent victory.
Sophia felt her stomach turn.
Every moment with him was a battle she was always destined to lose.
---
After breakfast, Sophia was led to the master bathroom.
The marble floors were cool beneath her feet, the massive tub already filled with warm, steaming water, scented with oils and rose petals.
She stared at it, her throat tightening.
She didn't want this.
Didn't want the luxury, the silk robes, the endless servants catering to her every move.
She wanted freedom.
The door clicked shut.
Her breath hitched.
She turned—
Adrian stood there, watching her.
Her heart lurched.
"You—" She took a step back. "What are you doing?"
He unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, his smirk dangerous. "You're my wife. I'll bathe you myself."
Her body went rigid.
"No," she whispered, panicked.
Adrian stepped forward. Slow. Controlled.
"You don't have a choice, Sophia."
Her pulse pounded.
She was trapped. Again.
And Adrian was never letting her go.