The hum of the car engine was the only sound between them, steady and rhythmic, yet the air was thick with tension.
Nadia sat stiffly, her arms folded as she stared out the window. The city lights blurred past in golden streaks, but she hardly noticed. Her mind was still back at the estate—back with her mother and Ayla, their tearful goodbyes, their worried expressions.
She had reassured them.
"I'm not dying, I'm just getting married."
But somehow, that didn't feel true.
Beside her, Zayne was the picture of control, his long fingers gliding over his tablet as he skimmed through business reports. Every movement was precise, effortless. Like none of this meant anything to him.
And of course, it didn't.
This was just another deal to him. Another acquisition. Another move on his chessboard.
While she was just another piece he had claimed.
Nadia exhaled sharply, finally breaking the silence. "We need to talk."
His fingers paused for a fraction of a second before he resumed scrolling. He didn't look up, but she felt the shift in the air, the way his focus honed in on her instantly.
"Do we?" he murmured, still engrossed in his reports.
"Yes." She straightened, determination hardening her voice.
This time, he did look at her, slowly setting the tablet aside. His dark eyes met hers, unreadable yet piercing.
"Go on," he said.
Nadia inhaled deeply. "If we're going to do this, then we need boundaries."
Zayne tilted his head slightly, as if the idea amused him.
"Boundaries?" he echoed.
"Yes," she pressed on. "I don't want my life completely controlled by this marriage. I want privacy. I want to keep working. And I don't want my family to be used as leverage against me."
A flicker of something crossed his gaze, too brief for her to decipher.
"Is that all?"
She hesitated. "For now."
Silence stretched between them.
"Fine."
Her breath hitched slightly. "Fine?"
He nodded. "You'll have your privacy. No public appearances unless necessary. You'll continue working… within reason."
Her fingers curled into fists at that last part, but she forced herself to stay calm. "And my family?"
Zayne's expression remained neutral. "I won't use them against you—unless you give me a reason to."
A chill ran through her.
That wasn't a promise.
That was a warning.
She swallowed hard. "And lastly, we keep this… professional. No expectations beyond what's necessary."
At that, his smirk vanished.
Something dark flickered in his eyes, and for the first time, a different kind of tension settled between them—one that made her pulse quicken.
He leaned in slightly, his presence overwhelming in the confined space of the car.
"Necessary?" he repeated, voice dangerously soft.
Nadia forced herself not to shrink back. "Yes."
His gaze dropped to her lips, lingering for a second too long before meeting her eyes again.
"You still don't understand, do you?" he murmured.
"Understand what?"
Zayne reached out, and before she could react, his fingers brushed against her chin, tilting it upward slightly.
Not forcefully, not roughly.
But with the quiet, undeniable weight of possession.
"I already own you, Nadia," he murmured. "There are no boundaries between us."
A shiver ran down her spine.
Her heart pounded wildly against her ribs, but she refused to let it show.
"You don't own me," she bit out.
Zayne chuckled, low and deep, as if her defiance only amused him. His fingers trailed down, tracing the faint pulse at the base of her throat, and she hated how her body betrayed her—how a single touch sent her nerves alight.
"Say that again in two months," he murmured, eyes gleaming. "Let's see if you still believe it then."
Nadia jerked away, breath unsteady. "Is that all?" she snapped, hating the way her voice wavered.
Zayne leaned back as if completely unaffected. "For now."
The words mirrored hers from earlier, petty, and she knew exactly what he was implying.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
She turned toward the window, forcing herself to focus on the city beyond, on the life she was leaving behind.
Two months.
That was all she had.
Two months to throw Sara and Kareem off course. Two months to win on her terms before Zayne stepped in and made this marriage his victory instead of hers.
But even if she failed…
Even if Zayne had to clean up the mess himself…
She would still be his wife.
And that realization settled deep in her chest, heavy and suffocating.
Because Zayne Alaric wasn't just powerful.
He was persistent, a very persistent motherfucker.