Chapter 3

"It matches Ms. Swanson perfectly."

A storm gathered behind Zion's eyes. His jaw tightened.

"Mia. Don't tell me you forgot what this dress is for."

A bitter laugh nearly escaped me.

How could I forget?

This was the engagement gown Zion had given me. Two months before the ceremony, he'd commissioned ALIN—the world's top designer—to tailor it specifically for my measurements. The 1,088 diamonds were all real, each over a carat. The camellias blooming across the silk were there simply because I'd once mentioned loving them.

I had spent so many nights imagining the day I would finally wear this gown. Interlocking fingers with him. Becoming the "perfect couple" everyone expected us to be.

But on the day of our engagement, Amy was caught in an avalanche in Switzerland.

Zion dropped everything. Flew halfway across the world to find her.

Before I could even slip the gown over my head, I was told the ceremony was canceled.

I didn't blame him then. I just waited. Sent message after message to confirm he was safe.

Ten days later, he finally returned my call.

"Zion, how are you? Are you hurt?" The words had tumbled out, desperate and raw.

Silence stretched across the line. Just as I thought he'd hung up, his voice came through—distant. Cold.

"Mia, I can't leave her alone. Our wedding..." A pause that lasted a lifetime. "Cancel it."

Even though Zion eventually married me under pressure from the Gilbert family matriarch, his heart had long since abandoned me.

I never had the chance to wear the gown.

On our wedding night, he was drunk. He pointed a shaking finger at my face, breath sour with whiskey.

"Stop dreaming. The only person I love is Amy." His bloodshot eyes bored into mine. "Not you."

Back in the present, Amy's gaze darted between Zion and me. Realization dawned—this dress meant something.

That only made her want it more.

She grabbed Zion's arm, her voice dripping honey. "Zion, it's so pretty. It'll make my skin glow." Her foot slid up his calf, toes grazing the inseam of his trousers. "Please? Zion... I want to wear it."

"No!"

Zion—who had never denied Amy a single thing—refused her cold.

*Thud!*

"Ah!"

He shoved her away with such force that she crashed into the cabinet. She clutched her arm, wailing.

In the struggle, neither had let go of the gown.

*Rrriiip.*

The masterpiece tore down the middle.

Ruined.

What a pity.

It really was a beautiful dress.

Zion's face turned black as thunder. Ignoring Amy's cries, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the room.

*Bang!*

The door slammed shut.

He spun around. Pinned me against the wall.

His gaze—obsessive, terrifying—bore into mine.

Memories surged. Trauma clawed at my throat. I struggled on instinct.

"Let me go! Let go of me!"

His hand clamped around my jaw, forcing my head up. His voice dropped to a possessive growl.

"Mia Henson. You are *mine*."

My body went rigid.

I stopped fighting.

Satisfaction flickered in his eyes. He crushed his mouth to mine—savage, bruising, biting and tearing like a beast marking its prey.

"It hurts... let... let me go..."

I tried to turn my head. His grip tightened on my chin, yanking me back.

He wouldn't allow even an inch of escape.

Thirty seconds later—only when darkness crept into the edges of my vision—did he finally pull back.

He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip.

Tasted the copper bloodstain he'd left behind.

Those predatory eyes pinned me in place. A wolf cornering its prey.

His fingers found my earlobe. Rubbed it slowly—intimate.

Chilling.

"Mia Henson." His breath was hot against my ear. "Don't even think about leaving me."

His grip tightened.

"You are mine. *Only* mine."