Clair was still in the kitchen when the silence between her and Austin finally cracked like the egg she'd dropped earlier.
She had spent the better part of the day baking. Maybe out of nervous energy. Maybe out of rebellion. Or maybe because the smell of warm sugar and cinnamon gave her a piece of herself back. Something normal. Something hers.
Austin stood across from her with his arms folded, watching her move with a strange softness in his eyes.
She wasn't sure what unnerved her more his silence, or his presence.
"So," she said, licking frosting off her thumb. "What's the endgame here, Austin?"
He arched a brow. "Endgame?"
"You rescued me, you locked me up, now you're watching me like I'm going to sprout wings. What's the plan?"
He stepped closer, slow and confident. "I told you. Marriage."
Clair laughed, sharp and disbelieving. "Oh, right. The forced marriage thing. Super romantic."
He didn't blink. "You'll be protected."
"That's not love. That's ownership."
"It's survival."
Clair rolled her eyes and turned back to the cake, slathering buttercream over the layers like it had insulted her mother. "You've got a messed-up way of showing care."
"I'm not a normal man, Clair."
She turned, her gaze hard. "Then don't expect me to be a normal woman and just go along with it."
They stood there, tension thick in the air like the scent of vanilla and fire.
Then he surprised her.
Austin stepped to the counter, picked up a spoon, and helped her spread the icing.
Clair's hands paused. "What are you doing?"
"Helping."
"You don't look like the baking type."
"I'm not. But I know how to follow instructions."
She smirked despite herself. "Interesting. So Mr. Mafia King takes orders in the kitchen?"
"I make exceptions."
Their fingers brushed. She felt the spark again. A warmth she didn't want. A pulse she didn't trust.
"You're trying to confuse me," she whispered.
"Is it working?"
She stepped away.
That night, Clair paced the room again. But this time, she wasn't just plotting an escape.
She was trying to figure him out.
Austin Montgomery was unlike any man she'd ever met—beautiful, cold, lethal, yet oddly gentle when it came to her.
It didn't make sense.
Powerful men didn't act like that. They didn't ask about her dreams. They didn't watch her bake like she was the center of their universe.
And they definitely didn't promise marriage like it was a gift instead of a prison.
But Austin did.
She sat on the bed and stared at the door.
Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she opened it.
The hall was quiet, dimly lit. Clair walked barefoot down the plush carpet, past closed doors, until she found the one she somehow knew was his.
She knocked.
No answer.
She turned to leave.
Then the door opened.
Austin stood there, shirtless, in dark sweatpants, his abs defined like marble, his hair damp from a shower. A scar trailed across his chest like a story untold.
Clair froze.
He said nothing. Just stepped aside.
She entered.
The room was darker than hers, colder, with leather furniture and black wood. No warmth. No softness. A man's space.
"What are you doing up?" he asked.
"I couldn't sleep."
He nodded.
She took a deep breath. "Tell me the truth."
"About?"
"Why me? Why go through all this for someone you barely know?"
Austin walked over to the window, hands in his pockets. "You remind me of someone."
Clair's brows knit. "Who?"
"My mother."
She blinked. "Your… mom?"
He turned. "She was kind. Fierce. She cooked for the whole neighborhood, even when we had nothing. She loved to help people."
Clair swallowed. "What happened to her?"
"She died when I was twelve. My father had enemies. They used her to make a point."
Clair's stomach twisted.
"I promised myself I'd never let that happen again. Not to anyone I cared about."
She didn't speak.
Austin stepped closer, his voice lower. "You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. But now that you're in my life, I'm not letting go."
"That's not fair."
"I don't play fair."
Clair looked into his eyes. "You don't even know if I could love someone like you."
"I can wait."
She scoffed. "This isn't a fairy tale, Austin. You don't kidnap the girl and expect her to fall for the villain."
"I'm not the villain," he said softly. "Not to you."
And damn it, something in her chest fluttered.
Because he believed it.
The next morning, Clair woke up to an unlocked door.
A test? A trick?
She dressed quickly, crept downstairs and saw no guards. No staff. Just silence.
Her heart pounded.
She ran to the front entrance. Unlocked.
Her breath caught.
She stepped outside into the sunlight. Trees lined the private driveway. Gates in the distance.
She could leave.
She should leave.
But her feet didn't move.
Why wasn't she running?
"Freedom looks good on you," Austin said behind her.
She spun.
He was in a gray sweater and jeans. Relaxed. Calm.
She stared at him. "Why did you unlock the door?"
"Because you deserve the choice."
She gaped. "After locking me up for two days?"
"You needed to understand the danger."
"And now?"
"Now I trust you to stay."
She laughed bitterly. "That's not how trust works."
He stepped closer. "I don't do things the usual way."
"No kidding."
Austin looked down at her. "Go if you want, Clair. I won't stop you."
She didn't move.
Minutes passed.
Then she turned back toward the mansion.
Later that day, Clair sat by the indoor pool, legs dangling in the water. Austin hadn't followed her. Hadn't tried to persuade her.
And yet… she stayed.
Why?
Because part of her believed him now. Believed that whatever hell he came from, he wasn't trying to hurt her.
He was just trying to protect something good, because he'd lost too much already.
She understood that feeling.
Still, she wasn't falling for him. Not yet.
But she was thinking about him.
Too much.
That evening, they ate dinner in silence. Then Austin surprised her again.
"I want to take you somewhere tomorrow."
Clair raised a brow. "Out?"
"Yes. Somewhere safe. Private."
"Why?"
"You need air. And I want you to see my world."
"Why do I get the feeling it's not going to be brunch and mimosas?"
His lips twitched. "No. But there will be wine."
She stared at him.
"What's the catch?"
He leaned in. "Just trust me."
She didn't.
But against all logic… she nodded.