Challenging King Aiden |✔|

Chapter- 5 His Rules, My Rebellion

Priscilla POV

Chains.

Cold. Heavy. Undeniably real.

For a split second, my brain refused to process what my eyes were seeing—until I moved, and the sharp metallic clink snapped reality into place.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I shrieked, instinctively jerking my wrists. The chains held firm, biting coolly into my skin like a mockery of freedom.

Aiden didn't flinch.

Not even a little.

"Nothing you're thinking," he said evenly, though the faint twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed him. Amusement. Controlled. Dangerous.

I glared at him, fury bubbling hot and fast. "Then enlighten me. Because from where I'm lying, this looks like the opening scene of a true-crime documentary."

"Just stopping you," he replied simply, as if that explained everything.

Before I could react, he caught my arm, firm and unyielding, turning me toward the bed. His movements were precise, practiced—too practiced. The chain clicked into place with finality.

Rage ignited in my chest.

"Once I'm free," I hissed through clenched teeth, "I'm cutting off your balls."

He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his warmth, his calm utterly infuriating. "That would be your loss."

Then—insult to injury—he winked.

I scowled hard enough to hurt. "Don't you dare touch me."

His voice dipped, brushing against my ear like a threat wrapped in silk. "Tempting. But someday, baby girl... you'll beg for me."

My body betrayed me instantly.

Goosebumps erupted along my arms, my pulse stuttering in a way I refused to acknowledge. I hated him—hated how effortlessly he unsettled me. Hated how my skin seemed to remember him even when my mind screamed danger.

"Sleep tight," he said casually, already stepping away. "Baby girl."

And then he was gone.

Just like that.

The room remained bathed in soft golden light. My gaze drifted despite myself, landing on the massive portrait dominating the wall.

Aiden.

Tailored suit. Sharp lines. Authority carved into every inch of him. He looked less like a man and more like a warning.

This wasn't a prison.

It was a luxury cage.

The door opened again.

I stiffened.

"Forgot something," he said, almost sheepishly, as he stepped back into the room.

I lifted a brow, silently waiting for him to do the sensible thing—turn off the lights and leave.

He didn't.

Instead, he paused beside the bed.

Too close.

His gaze lingered on me, slow and deliberate, as if he were memorizing the way I looked bound in silk sheets and defiance. One second stretched into two. Too long to be accidental.

My heart began to race.

"Sweet dreams," he murmured softly. "Baby girl."

The lights clicked off.