"YOU WERE MINE, YOU'RE MINE, AND YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MINE, " he declared, his voice a low growl as he thrust deeper into me.
"Ahh, I h-hate you," I managed to gasp, the intensity of the moment making it hard to think straight.
"SAY THAT AGAIN AND SE...
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Three weeks had passed, and Darius hadn’t punished me once. It was as if he’d become a different man entirely. Every small disobedience, every mistake or delay, he let it all slide with nothing more than a faint smile or a gentle reminder. At first, I didn’t believe it. Surely, he was testing me, waiting to see how far I would push before he snapped back into the Darius I knew: the one who demanded obedience, the one who didn’t tolerate a single misstep.
But the stern lectures never came, and the sharp commands softened into casual conversation. He let his guard down, inviting me to spend more time by his side, sharing quiet laughs, secret glances, and little gestures that left me wondering if this was truly real.
The household was just as shocked as I was. I saw the bewildered looks from the maids, the sideways glances exchanged between the butlers, each one trying to reconcile this Darius—the one who would laugh and lean in to share a joke with me—with the ruthless figure they had always known.
One morning, I was up late, the result of staying up too long reading, and I stumbled into the dining room well past the time I was expected. Darius looked up from his plate, an amused grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he teased, his voice light, playful even.
Heat crept up my cheeks. “I’m sorry, I overslept…”
He only chuckled, gesturing for me to join him. “It’s fine. I’ve already told the cook to make your favorite breakfast. Don’t worry about the time.”
As I settled into my seat, the kitchen staff gave each other curious glances, no doubt as baffled as I was. Darius had always been strict about meal times, yet here he was, indulging my every whim with an easy smile.
Throughout the day, it was the same. I could sense the astonishment radiating from everyone around us. Darius’s patience seemed endless, his demeanor a mix of warmth and protectiveness that I had never imagined him capable of.
Later that evening, while I was sketching in the garden, he appeared beside me, watching quietly before settling down on the bench.
“What are you drawing?” he asked, genuine interest in his eyes.
I hesitated, feeling shy under his gaze. “It’s… nothing special.”
He reached over, gently tilting the sketchbook to get a better look. “I think it’s beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft. “You have talent, Aurelia.”
His praise sent a warmth through me, and I found myself smiling, feeling lighter than I had in ages. It was as if he saw something in me that no one else did, as if he wanted to encourage the pieces of myself that I’d kept hidden for so long.
From that day forward, he continued to treat me with a gentleness that melted the walls I’d built around myself. Each morning, he’d greet me with a smile, ruffling my hair as if I were a child, teasing me for my sleepy expressions. The maids and staff watched in disbelief as he indulged my every whim, letting me choose the evening’s entertainment or picking out the day’s menu.
