The Test of Freedom

Alessia stood frozen in place, staring at the massive estate gates. The pathway leading to them was long, lined with trimmed hedges and security cameras that monitored every movement.

And yet, Damian had just told her she was free to go.

Her heart pounded, uncertainty tightening around her chest like an iron grip.

She had spent days pushing back against his control, demanding her freedom. And now, he was giving it to her—or at least pretending to.

But was it real?

Was this a game? A game to test her trust in exchange of his protection?

Damian stood still, watching her with that unreadable expression. His dark eyes held something she couldn’t name—challenge, amusement, or maybe something deeper.

Alessia’s lips parted. "You mean it?"

His voice was calm. "I never say things I don’t mean."

Her stomach twisted.

She should walk away. She should call his bluff.

But her feet wouldn’t move.

Because deep down, she knew something—she wasn’t safe out there.

Yes, she had wanted her freedom, but did she truly have anywhere to go? The men who had come after her that night… would they still be waiting? Would they still want her dead?

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. "If I leave, will anyone stop me?"

Damian’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. "No one will lay a hand on you. You have my word."

Her breath hitched.

And that was the problem.

Damian’s word was law. If he said she was safe, then she was. But outside these gates? Where his protection ended? She wasn’t sure.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. "You enjoy this, don’t you?"

His brow arched slightly. "Enjoy what?"

"Watching me struggle with this choice."

He tilted his head, stepping forward until there was barely any space between them. The scent of his cologne mixed with the crisp night air, intoxicating in a way that made her feel lightheaded.

"You think I want you to stay, Alessia?" His voice was low, taunting.

Her pulse raced. "Don’t you?"

Damian reached out, his fingers tracing along her jaw, a featherlight touch that sent a shiver down her spine. "If you stay, it’ll be because you choose to. Not because I forced you."

Her breath hitched at the intensity in his gaze.

Then, with deliberate slowness, he stepped back. "The choice is yours."

She turned her gaze toward the gates again.

This was it. Her moment.

But as much as she wanted to prove something—to him, to herself—she knew the truth.

If she walked through those gates, she would be alone.

If she stayed, she would be under Damian’s protection, but she would also be HIS.

Her fingers trembled at her sides.

Then, finally, she exhaled.

And she didn’t move.

A slow smile spread across Damian’s lips, dark and knowing. "Wise choice, princess."

Her stomach clenched. Had she just made a deal with the devil?