HEALING THE SCARS

CHAPTER 5

PENELOPE

 I wake to a sensation of warmth enveloping me. The bed beneath me is soft, comforting, and faintly scented with something familiar. For a moment, I relish the comfort, and then awareness seeps in. Where am I? Sitting up abruptly, I scan the darkened room. Moonlight filters through the curtains, revealing a lavish bedroom around me. Confusion knots my stomach. This isn't where I fell asleep last night. Is it?

With trembling hands, I search for a light switch and illuminate the room. It dazzles me—a king-sized bed with fluffy pillows and pristine linen, walls adorned with elegant artwork. It's luxurious, but it feels suffocatingly unfamiliar. A glance around reveals three doors. The first opens into a bathroom straight out of a five-star hotel, all gleaming white tiles and a bathtub that promises indulgence. The second door leads to a walk-in closet overflowing with designer clothes and shoes. Among them, a wedding dress catches my eye—exquisite and dauntingly perfect.

My mind races, trying to piece together how I ended up here. The last thing I remember is Dylan dragging me away to his private plane. Memories of the frantic flight surface, but after that, everything blurs. How did he find me? How did I end up in this place? Panic grips me as I approach the third door, hoping for an escape route. But it's locked from the outside, sealing me inside. Desperation fuels me as I pound on the door, shouting for help into the silence of the night. The door suddenly swings open, and before I can react, I'm shoved roughly to the ground with a force that knocks the wind out of me.

"What the hell are you doing, screaming like that?" The voice is sharp, cutting through the darkness. I look up to see Dylan standing over me, his expression a mix of anger and relief. He's only dressed in briefs, his muscular frame imposing in the dim light. Despite everything, he looks... breathtaking.

"Dylan..." I gasp, struggling to make sense of it all. "How did I get here? Why am I locked in?"

"You're here because I found you," Dylan snaps, his voice hard. "You ran away, Penelope. You had me searching for months." His eyes flash with anger and frustration, but there's something else beneath the surface—something I can't decipher.

"But... I couldn't..." I stammer, feeling overwhelmed by his presence and the weight of our situation. "I couldn't marry you just because... because they chose you. Because of my father's mistakes. Surely you can understand why I did what I did."

"You're mine, Penelope," Dylan says with a bitter edge. "You belong to me. Your father knew that when he made the deal with my father. A lot is at stake and I won't let you ruin this for me."

"No, I don't belong to anyone!" I retort, fear and defiance mingling inside me. I try to push past him, to escape this gilded cage he's trapped me in, but he grabs my arms, his grip firm.

"You think you can just run away? Again?" His voice is low, dangerous. "You think I'd let you go that easily? Do I look stupid to let you repeat it?"

Tears well up in my eyes, a mixture of frustration and fear. "Let me go, Dylan. Please."

He hesitates, his gaze searching mine for a long moment. Finally, he releases me, stepping back. "Fine. But don't think you can run again, Penelope. You're staying here until we sort this out. At least until you fulfill your part of the contract. Then you'll be free to do whatever you want." I scramble to my feet, rubbing my bruised arm where I fell. Anger and confusion swirl inside me as I stare at him, the man I was supposed to marry but couldn't bear the thought of. Now, I'm trapped in his mansion, unsure of what comes next.