"Their Queen, Their Captive"

Leo's POV

Everything has a price.

When I looked at her, standing there in that ridiculous white dress, I felt nothing. Not pity, not guilt—certainly not love.

She was a pawn, no more important than any other piece on the board, except this one belonged to me now. Our "marriage" was strategy. A calculated move. She'd learn to be obedient, quiet, and useful—or she'd break.

"Do you take this woman—"

"I do."

It was just another deal sealed, another victory earned.

She'll learn that defiance has consequences. Everyone does.

Adrian's POV

I can't believe I'm here.

Three shots of whiskey hadn't been enough to dull the reality of this circus. My life, my freedom—mine—traded away for a woman I didn't ask for. I looked at her, all wide-eyed innocence and trembling hands, and hated her a little.

She was beautiful, sure. But beauty's a weapon, and I don't trust anyone holding a knife that sharp.

"Do you take this woman—"

"I do."

I grinned when I said it. Let them think I was calm. Let them think I didn't care. But inside, I was already burning.

Nico's POV

What a waste.

I watched her—small, fragile, scared—standing at the altar like an animal caught in a snare. The marriage wasn't her choice, but neither was mine. I didn't need a wife. I didn't want a wife.

And yet, here we were.

She looked at me once, our eyes meeting for half a second, and I saw the fight in her. I almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

"Do you take this woman—"

"I do."

The words tasted bitter on my tongue. She didn't know what she'd been dragged into. She'd learn.

They always do.

Sophia's POV

The room they gave me was beautiful. Ornate carvings on the walls, gold fixtures, velvet drapes. It felt more like a museum than a home. Yet, as I sat on the edge of the massive bed, staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror, all I could see was a prisoner.

The white dress hung off my frame like a ghost its silk now wrinkled and lifeless. My fingers brushed the rings on my hand—three promises I never made, three lives now intertwined with mine.

The door creaked open. I froze.

Leo's Warning

Leo entered, his presence sharp and cutting, like a blade slipped between ribs. He didn't knock. He didn't ask permission. His cold blue eyes swept over me, and his lips tightened into a line.

"You should change," he said, his voice void of warmth. "That dress isn't yours anymore. It's ours."

I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. "I didn't bring anything else."

"Then you'll wear what I give you." He walked to the closet, opening the door to reveal an array of clothes—silks, satins, all meticulously arranged. None of them were mine.

"You had this planned," I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

Leo turned, his gaze locking onto mine. "Everything is planned. You'll learn that soon enough."

He stepped closer, and I resisted the urge to shrink back. His hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him. His touch was firm, not painful, but there was a warning in the pressure.

"I don't care what you're feeling right now," he said, his tone low and deliberate. "Grief. Anger. Fear. None of it matters. You belong to us now. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be."

When he let go, I exhaled a shaky breath, my skin burning where his fingers had been.

"Dinner is at 8," he said as he turned to leave. "Don't be late."

Adrian's Game

The next encounter was worse. Adrian didn't bother with knocking, either. He barged in without warning, a lazy grin plastered across his face as he leaned against the door frame.

"Nice room, huh?" He said, his silver hair catching the dim light. "They treat you like a queen here."

I didn't respond.

"Silent treatment already?" He pushed off the door frame, strolling toward me. "Come on, sweetheart, we're married now. No need to act like a stranger."

I stood, backing away instinctively, but Adrian caught my wrist before I could move far. His grip was firm, his skin warm compared to Leo's icy touch.

"Let me go," I said, trying to sound braver than I felt.

He tilted his head, studying me like I was some fascinating creature he'd just discovered. "You've got some fight in you. I like that."

"Adrian," I said through gritted teeth.

His smirk widened. "That's better. Say my name again."

The words sent a wave of nausea through me. I yanked my wrist free, stepping back. His eyes darkened for a moment, but then he laughed—a low, rumbling sound that made my skin crawl.

"I'm just messing with you," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Relax, sweetheart. You'll get used to me."

Before he left, he turned back, his gray eyes flickering with something I couldn't quite place. "You're a pretty thing, Sophia. But let's see how long that defiance lasts."

Nico's Silence

Hours later, I ventured into the hallway, the house eerily quiet. Every step felt like a risk, the marble floors cold beneath my bare feet. I didn't know where I was going—anywhere but here.

That's when I saw him.

Nico was leaning against a doorway, his emerald-green eyes focused on a book in his hands. He didn't look up as I approached, but I felt his awareness like a weight pressing down on me.

"You should be in your room," he said without looking up.

"I needed air," I said.

He finally raised his eyes, and the intensity of his gaze stopped me in my tracks. It wasn't anger, or even annoyance. It was something deeper, darker.

"You'll find no freedom here," he said, his voice quiet but laced with steel. "This house isn't yours. It's ours."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the look he gave me froze the words in my throat. He closed the book, tucking it under his arm as he pushed off the doorway.

"Go back to your room, Sophia," he said, walking past me. "Before you find something you wish you hadn't."

The Dinner Table

By the time I reached the dining room, the tension was palpable. Leo sat at the head of the table, his cold eyes fixed on me as I entered. Adrian lounged in his seat, swirling a glass of whiskey, while Nico remained silent, his gaze distant.

"You're late," Leo said.

"I'm not hungry," I replied.

"Sit," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

I obeyed, my movements stiff as I lowered myself into the chair. Adrian chuckled, leaning back with a smirk.

"You really don't get it, do you?" he said. "This isn't optional."

"Enough," Leo snapped, his voice cutting through the air. "Sophia will learn. She just needs time."

Adrian raised an eyebrow but said nothing, taking another sip of his drink.

Nico didn't speak, his green eyes flicking to mine briefly before returning to his plate. I felt like a caged animal, surrounded by predators waiting for me to slip.

As the meal dragged on, I realized one thing with chilling certainty: They weren't just my captors.

They were my punishments.