Name: For the sake of burning love
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Chapter 1 Melisa stood at the corner of the grand

Melisa stood at the corner of the grand, opulent office, feeling the weight of the silence that surrounded her. Her palms were sweaty as she gripped the folder containing the documents she needed signed, her heart racing with every second that passed. Across the room, seated behind a massive mahogany desk, was her husband, Alaric Vincent Renard, the man who had become the center of her fears and anxieties. He was the most powerful man in the country, feared by many, known for his cold, ruthless demeanor, and the man she had been forced to marry.

Melisa had been standing there for nearly an hour, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence, but Alaric hadn't spared her even a glance. Instead, he was absorbed in the piles of paperwork in front of him, his eyes scanning the documents, his fingers occasionally turning a page with meticulous care. The silence was suffocating, and with each passing second, Melisa's patience wore thin.

"Excuse me," she finally spoke, her voice trembling as she broke the silence. "When are you going to sign as my guardian? I need it for my university assignment. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't even ask for your signature."

There was no response. Alaric continued flipping through his papers as though he hadn't heard her at all. Melisa's nerves tightened. She hated how he always made her feel so insignificant, like a mere shadow in his world.

Her heartbeat quickened, and her patience snapped. "Are you going to sign it or not?" Her voice was louder now, edged with the frustration she'd tried to keep at bay. "Stop ignoring me!"

Still, there was no answer. The tension in the room was thick, nearly unbearable.

Melisa gritted her teeth, anger flaring. "What do you want from me?" she shouted, her fear barely masked beneath her outburst. She knew she shouldn't raise her voice to him, but she was at her limit.

At last, Alaric lifted his head, his cold, dark eyes locking onto her. The intensity of his gaze made her breath hitch, her pulse quickening not just out of fear but from something else, something she didn't want to acknowledge. He leaned back slowly in his chair, his broad shoulders relaxed, but his expression remained unreadable.

"Do you want to go horseback riding?" His voice was low, velvety, but with an edge that sent a chill down her spine.

Melisa blinked, caught off guard. "What?" she asked, confused by the sudden shift in the conversation. "Horseback riding?"

Alaric swirled the glass of red wine he had in his hand, watching the liquid move with calm precision. "Yes," he replied smoothly, his gaze still piercing into her. "I'd like to see how well you can ride." The way he said it, the deliberate slowness of his words, made her stomach twist with unease.

"I... I don't understand," she stammered, shaking her head slightly, as if trying to shake off the unnerving feeling that crept over her. "I just need your signature."

Alaric's lips curved slightly into something that could have been a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "My signature, hmm?" He rose from his chair, towering over her as he walked around the desk. "Everything has a price, Melisa. You should know that by now."

Melisa swallowed hard, her throat dry. "What are you talking about?"

Stopping in front of her, Alaric's presence was overwhelming. He was tall, powerful, and exuded an aura of control that made her feel small, fragile. He reached out, his fingers brushing under her chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. His touch was both soft and commanding, sending an involuntary shiver through her.

"If you want something from me," he said quietly, "then you must be willing to give something in return."

The world seemed to slow around her. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Your obedience," he murmured, his thumb lightly grazing her jawline, a subtle, dangerous caress. "Your patience."

Melisa felt her heart race faster, her breathing uneven. This was the man she had married-a man who demanded everything without giving anything in return. He was like ice and fire at once, a contradiction that left her trembling with fear and something darker, something more unsettling that she refused to acknowledge.

She wanted to scream, to demand that he stop playing games with her. But in the face of his cold authority, she felt powerless, trapped. Taking a shaky breath, she nodded slightly, her voice small and resigned. "Fine."

Alaric's lips twitched with satisfaction, a subtle smirk crossing his features. "Good," he said softly. "I like it when my wife knows her place."

He finally stepped away, returning to his desk. Melisa stood frozen in place, her mind spinning. She watched him pick up the pen from his desk and begin signing the documents she had brought. He did it without urgency, as if her whole world wasn't spinning out of control right in front of him.

When he finished, he placed the papers back in the folder and handed them to her. "Here you go," he said with an air of finality.

Melisa reached out with shaking hands, taking the folder from him. She couldn't bring herself to thank him. Her heart was pounding too loudly in her chest, her mind too full of the tension that had built between them, a tension that seemed to pull her deeper into the abyss of their twisted relationship.

As she turned to leave, Alaric's voice stopped her cold. "Melisa."

She paused, her hand on the door handle. "Yes?"

"You belong to me," he said quietly, but his words carried the weight of absolute certainty. "Don't ever forget that."

Melisa clenched her jaw, her heart aching with the bitter truth of his statement. She had entered this marriage to repay a debt, to save herself from a life of torment. But what she hadn't realized was that she had merely exchanged one prison for another.

Without another word, she left the room, her legs feeling weak beneath her. The tension between them had been palpable, electrifying in a way that both frightened and confused her. She hated him for how he treated her, for how he controlled her life. Yet, at the same time, she couldn't deny the pull he had over her-the way his presence ignited something deep inside her, something she didn't want to face.

This was only the beginning.

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