Chapter 4 Chapter 4
Sleine's Pov
His eyes slowly dragged down my body, taking in the tight black dress I wore, before coming back up to my face. “You act so high and mighty… but we both know the truth. You’ve been thinking about me for the last four years just as much as I’ve been thinking about you," he said, and my stomach tightened.
“In your fucking dreams,” I hissed.
He leaned even closer, his lips barely an inch from my ear. His breath was hot against my skin as he whispered:
“Every time you leaked something about my company, every time you raised your middle finger at me in public… you were wet for me, weren’t you? All that hate is just foreplay for you," he whispered so low only for me to hear, and a rush of heat flooded my body. I hated him for it.
I turned my head slightly, our lips now dangerously close.
“Keep dreaming, Riker,” I whispered back. “The only way you’ll ever get me on my knees is if I’m reaching for a knife to stab you with.”
The sexual tension was suffocating, and everyone else in the room had gone completely silent, pretending to look at their papers. One of Knox’s lawyers finally spoke, voice shaky. “Regarding sleeping arrangements…”
“Separate wings,” I said firmly, stepping back from Knox. “I will not be waking up to his face every morning.”
Knox chuckled darkly. “Scared you’ll crawl into my bed one night when you’re lonely?” he asked. I shot him a disgusted look. “The only thing that would drive me to your bed is temporary insanity.” He sat back down in his chair, spreading his legs arrogantly, still watching me like I was his favorite enemy.
“Fine,” he said. “Separate wings. But you will attend every public event with me. You will smile. You will wear my ring and you will not embarrass me.”
I sat down as well, crossing my legs. “Same goes for you. No parading your whores around while I’m legally tied to you. Have some fucking respect," I said, and his jaw clenched again.
For the next forty minutes, we tore apart every clause. Living arrangements. Financial terms. NDA on our private fights. Media control. What happens if one of us breaks the rules? Every single point turned into a war. By the end, both of us were furious, breathing hard, and glaring at each other like we wanted to rip the other apart.
When the final contract was placed in front of us. I picked up the pen first. My hand hovered over the signature line. I looked up and met Knox’s eyes. For a moment, something almost dangerous passed between us: pure hatred mixed with dark, twisted desire.
I signed my name with a hard stroke. Knox took the pen next, his eyes never leaving mine as he signed with bold, aggressive strokes. When he finished, he leaned back and gave me a slow, predatory smile.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Riker,” he said softly. “Welcome to hell.”
I smiled back, just as poisonous. “Looking forward to destroying you from the inside, husband.”
The heavy iron gates of the Riker Estate swung open like the jaws of a beast ready to swallow me whole. I stared out the tinted window as we drove up the long private driveway. The mansion was massive; it was a modern fortress of glass, steel, and dark stone overlooking the ocean. It screamed old money mixed with new power, exactly like its owner.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Riker,” the driver said politely, but I didn’t answer. Today marked Day One of our eighteen-month sentence, the first day of hell.
The wedding yesterday had been an absolute circus; it was a lavish, perfectly staged performance for the consortium, the press, and both our families. I had worn white, and Knox had looked like sin in a black tux. We smiled for the cameras, cut the cake, and never touched each other once.
Now the real game was beginning. When the car stopped, I got out; I was wearing a simple black silk dress and heels, refusing to look impressed. Two staff members immediately came to take my luggage.
Knox was already waiting at the top of the grand staircase, with his hands in his pockets, watching me with those cold blue eyes. “Try not to break anything,” he said as I climbed the steps.
“Try not to speak to me,” I replied smoothly, and he smirked. “This is going to be fun.”
We walked through the massive foyer in silence. The interior was breathtaking, with high ceilings, modern art worth millions, and floor-to-ceiling windows showing the private beach below. But I refused to show any reaction. He led me down a long hallway on the east wing.
“This is your side of the house,” he said, pushing open a set of double doors. “Your bedroom, office, private living room, and gym. The west wing is mine. The shared areas are the main kitchen, the formal dining room, the pool, and the library. Stay out of my wing," he said.
I walked inside the luxurious suite. It was beautiful, cold, and impersonal. “Perfect,” I said. “The farther away from you, the fucking better.”
He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, studying me. “You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you?” he asked.
I turned to face him. “Difficult? Darling, I’m going to make this absolute torture for you," I said with a smile, and his eyes darkened. He pushed off the doorframe and walked toward me slowly, and the air between us thickened instantly.
“You talk so bravely for a woman now legally tied to me,” he murmured, stopping just inches away. “Eighteen months, Seline. That’s a long time to keep pretending you hate me this much," he said.
I tilted my head up, refusing to back down. “I don’t have to pretend; I despise you," I said with a smile. His gaze dropped to my lips, and for a moment, the tension felt ready to explode.
“Keep telling yourself that," he said with a slow and dangerous smile. Then he turned and left, closing the door behind him with a soft click. I exhaled sharply and sat down on the edge of the massive bed. This is going to be harder than I thought.
Later that evening I was working in my new private office when Ashely called. “How’s the prison?” she asked.
“Luxurious prison,” I corrected. “But still a prison.”
“Any blood yet?” she asked.
“Not yet. But the night is young.”
I heard her laugh. “Eli already has the first sabotage plan ready. One of Knox’s upcoming acquisitions, the Hamilton Media Group. We can leak their financial troubles to tank the deal," she said.
I smiled. “Do it.”
“Already on it," she replied. I ended the call feeling satisfied. If Knox Riker wanted war even while married, he would get it. At 9 PM, I went down to the main kitchen for water, and I froze when I saw him.
