A Prison in Silk and Gold
Blossom sat motionless on the grand bed, her hands curled into fists as she listened to the heavy silence that followed Adrian's command.
"She is not to leave this room. If she tries, you know the consequences."
His voice was calm, but it sent a chill down her spine.
The maids and butlers bowed in unison. "Yes, My Lord."
Blossom clenched her jaw. How dare he? How dare he act like he owned her? The rage that boiled inside her was almost suffocating.
She glared at him, her golden-brown eyes burning with fury. "You can't keep me here like a prisoner!"
Adrian, who had been fixing the cuff of his sleeve, glanced at her with an unreadable expression. "Oh?"
Blossom stood up, her voice filled with venom. "I would rather marry Duke Alistair Vaughn than stay trapped here with you!"
The moment the words left her lips, the room fell into a suffocating silence.
The air turned cold.
Adrian stopped moving. His fingers twitched slightly before he slowly turned to face her.
His midnight-blue eyes were dark, unreadable.
Then, he smiled.
It wasn't warm. It wasn't kind.
It was chilling.
Blossom felt her stomach twist, but she refused to show fear.
Adrian stepped toward her, slow and deliberate, like a predator cornering its prey.
When he was just a breath away, he tilted his head slightly. "Duke Vaughn, you say?"
Blossom refused to back down. "Yes."
A quiet chuckle escaped his lips. "How amusing."
Before she could react, he grabbed her wrist.
She gasped. "Let me go—!"
But Adrian did not listen.
With one swift motion, he pulled her toward the massive bathing chamber attached to the bedroom. The floor was made of polished marble, and a massive gold-trimmed bathtub sat in the center, already filled with steaming water.
Blossom struggled against his grip. "Adrian, you bastard! What are you doing?!"
He said nothing.
With no warning, he shoved her inside.
Her body hit the water with a loud splash, the fabric of her dress immediately clinging to her skin. The warmth of the water was nothing compared to the burning humiliation she felt.
Blossom gasped, her wet hair sticking to her face as she glared up at him with seething rage.
Adrian stood at the edge of the tub, his hands in his pockets, his gaze ice-cold.
"Scrub yourself clean."
Blossom's fingers curled into fists. "You're insane!"
His expression did not change. "I don't like filthy things."
Her breath caught.
"Filthy?"
His gaze darkened. "Before you jumped, you were in his arms, weren't you?"
The meaning of his words hit her like a slap.
Her humiliation turned into pure, unfiltered hatred.
She gritted her teeth, her nails digging into her palms. "I am not dirty."
Adrian tilted his head, almost amused. "Then prove it. Scrub yourself clean."
She glared at him, defiant. "And if I don't?"
Adrian smirked. "Then I will personally help you."
A shiver ran down her spine.
He wouldn't dare.
But the way he looked at her, as if daring her to resist…
Blossom's breath came out ragged. She knew he meant every word.
Her fingers trembled under the water. Her pride screamed at her to defy him, but the thought of his hands touching her—**controlling her—**made her stomach churn.
I refuse.
Gritting her teeth, she reached for the soap.
But before she began, she raised her chin and glared at him. "Leave."
Adrian arched a brow, clearly entertained by her demand. "Why?"
She clenched her fists. "Because I refuse to bathe in front of you!"
His smirk didn't fade. "There's nothing I haven't seen before. You should hurry up."
Blossom's face burned with rage and humiliation.
She gritted her teeth so hard they might shatter, but she refused to let him win.
Without another word, she turned her back to him and began scrubbing her skin, each movement sharp and forceful as if she were trying to erase the feeling of his presence.
Adrian leaned against the doorway, watching her silently.
She hated it.
She hated that he had stripped her of all power, leaving her feeling caged and humiliated.
---
Later That Night: The Escape
Blossom lay on the grand bed, staring at the high ceiling. The room was silent, but her mind was racing.
She could still feel the lingering heat of shame from earlier. Her body still trembled, but it was not from the cold.
It was anger.
I will never let him win.
She had to get out of here.
Slowly, she sat up. Her body ached from exhaustion, but her mind was sharper than ever.
The guards outside were probably still awake, but she knew the routines of servants.
The butlers would check in every few hours. The moment the door opened—she would run.
Her heart pounded as she tiptoed toward the door. She pressed her ear against the wood, listening.
Silence.
Now.
She reached for the knob.
Slowly, she turned it.
It creaked slightly.
Her breath caught.
She pushed it open—
And her heart nearly stopped.
A tall figure stood on the other side.
A shadow looming over her.
Adrian.
His midnight-blue eyes glowed in the darkness, filled with something she couldn't quite decipher.
"Going somewhere?"
Blossom's throat went dry.
She took a step back, but he stepped forward.
The gap between them disappeared.
She swallowed, but her voice still came out as a whisper. "Move."
He didn't.
His lips curled into something unreadable. "Try it."
Blossom's hands shook with rage.
"You have no right to lock me up!" she spat. "We are only engaged, not married. You don't own me!"
Adrian didn't even blink.
"And yet, here you are."
Her breath hitched.
"You will not control me," she growled.
Adrian's expression remained unreadable, but something in his eyes darkened.
Then, he leaned in, his voice low, dangerous.
"We'll see about that."
Blossom's nails dug into her palms, but she knew—
She had lost tonight.
But not forever.
Because tomorrow, she would try again.
And one day, she would escape him.