Chapter 3

Donna walked through the sprawling penthouse, her heart thudding in her chest as she put distance between herself and Conner. Every step felt like an act of defiance, though she knew it was merely a small reprieve in the larger battle ahead. The penthouse was vast and opulent, the kind of wealth that reeked of cold detachment. It was all marble floors, glass walls, and furniture that looked more like art than something a human being would use.

She passed a grand piano in the corner of the living room, its sleek black surface catching the morning light. A part of her was tempted to slam her fingers against the keys, to fill the sterile space with chaos, but she resisted. This wasn't the time for petty rebellion. She needed to think, to strategize.

Her bare feet carried her to a balcony overlooking the city. The view was breathtaking-skyscrapers glinting in the sunlight, the hum of life pulsing below. But it offered no comfort. She leaned against the glass railing, her mind racing.

There had to be a way out of this.

A sudden voice broke her thoughts. "You'll find no escape down there."

She whipped around to see Conner standing in the doorway to the balcony, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his tailored trousers. He was infuriatingly calm, as though he hadn't just cornered her into a life she didn't want.

"Do you make it a habit to sneak up on people?" she snapped, crossing her arms.

Conner stepped onto the balcony, his every move calculated. "When those people are plotting against me, yes."

Donna laughed bitterly. "Not everything revolves around you, Conner. Contrary to what you might believe, I'm not spending every waking moment thinking about you."

He arched a brow, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. "That's funny. Because I spend quite a bit of time thinking about you."

Her stomach tightened at his words, but she refused to show it. "Flattery doesn't suit you."

He stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking. "Who said I was trying to flatter you?"

Donna turned back toward the city, refusing to meet his gaze. She couldn't afford to let him see the turmoil swirling inside her. "Why are you here, Conner? Don't you have empires to run, people to intimidate?"

"I do," he said, his voice lower now. "But my wife is more entertaining."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm glad I can be your source of amusement."

"You are," he admitted, leaning against the railing beside her. "But you're also a problem. And I don't like problems, Donna."

"Then maybe you should've thought of that before dragging me into your world," she shot back, her eyes flashing.

Conner tilted his head, studying her. "You're angry. I get it. But let me make one thing clear-this isn't just about you. It never was. Your father owed me, and you're the payment."

Her chest tightened at the mention of her father. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but she kept her voice steady. "You could've taken anything else. Money. Assets. Why me?"

Conner's gaze darkened, his smirk vanishing. "Because your father made it personal. He crossed a line, and now you're in the middle of it. Consider yourself collateral damage."

Collateral damage. The words hit her like a blow, but she refused to let him see her crumble. "You're a monster," she said quietly, her voice trembling with suppressed fury.

"And you're a survivor," he countered, his eyes boring into hers. "That's why I chose you, Donna. You don't break easily. But don't mistake that for freedom."

Donna turned away, her nails digging into her palms. She needed to get out of here, to clear her head. Without another word, she brushed past him and disappeared into the penthouse, ignoring the weight of his gaze on her back.

Hours later, Donna found herself wandering through the library-a room she hadn't expected to find in Conner's cold, calculated domain. The shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with books that seemed untouched, their spines pristine.

She ran her fingers along the shelves, the feel of the leather-bound volumes grounding her. For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe, to escape the weight of her reality.

"You read?"

She spun around, startled to see Conner leaning against the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"Do you follow me everywhere?" she asked, her voice dripping with annoyance.

He shrugged, stepping into the room. "It's my house. You're in my space."

"Trust me, I wouldn't be here if I had a choice," she muttered, turning back to the books.

Conner watched her for a moment before speaking. "What are you looking for?"

"Peace and quiet," she replied without missing a beat.

He smirked. "Good luck finding that here."

Donna pulled a random book from the shelf, flipping it open to avoid his gaze. "Don't you have anything better to do than hover?"

"Not at the moment," he said, his tone casual. "You're much more interesting than my business meetings."

She snapped the book shut and glared at him. "I'm not here to entertain you, Conner. Go play your games somewhere else."

He stepped closer, his smirk fading as his expression turned serious. "This isn't a game, Donna. Not for me, and definitely not for you. You can hate me all you want, but you're in this now. And the sooner you accept that, the better."

Donna's jaw clenched, her nails biting into the leather of the book. "I'll never accept it."

Conner's eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Then you'll suffer."

Her heart pounded, but she refused to look away. "So will you."

They stared at each other for a long moment, the air between them thick with tension. Then, as if deciding he'd had enough, Conner turned and walked out of the room, leaving Donna alone with her thoughts.

She sank into one of the chairs, her hands trembling as she clutched the book to her chest. She hated him with every fiber of her being, but she couldn't deny the truth in his words. She was in this now, whether she liked it or not.

But that didn't mean she was giving up. If Conner thought she would simply fall in line, he was sorely mistaken.

Donna Kent was a survivor. And she would find a way to take back her life-no matter the cost.