Chapter seven

Darius's POV

Watching her play the piano was... unexpected. I hadn’t meant to stand there for so long, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away. Her fingers glided over the keys like they belonged there — delicate yet purposeful. The music filled the room, soft yet powerful, like she was pouring every piece of herself into the melody.

It didn’t suit her — not the Ivanna I knew. The Ivanna I married was sharp-tongued, stubborn, and impossible to control. But here... here she was something else. Something softer. Something... beautiful.

I pushed the thought aside. Whether she played like an angel or spat fire like a demon made no difference to me. Her feelings — her pain, her hatred — none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was control. And right now, I needed her to remember who was in charge.

“Stop playing that instrument,” I ordered, my voice hard and cold.

She froze mid-note, her fingers hovering above the keys. For a second, I thought she might ignore me. Then, slowly, she turned to face me.

“I don’t take orders from you,” she said flatly, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

I nearly laughed. Of course she’d say that. Defiance was practically stitched into her bones.

“You do now,” I said, stepping forward. “Follow me.”

“I’m busy.”

Busy. As if drowning herself in her own music meant anything.

“You’re wasting time,” I said, grabbing her wrist before she could turn away. Her skin was warm beneath my fingers, and despite how quick she was to fight me, she didn’t pull away immediately.

“Let go,” she warned, her eyes narrowing.

“Not until you stop being stubborn,” I countered, tightening my grip just enough to remind her that I wasn’t playing games.

For a second, she stared up at me — fierce, proud, like she was daring me to push her further. I almost hoped she would.

But instead, she jerked her arm free and shot me a glare colder than ice.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” she muttered before brushing past me like I was nothing more than an annoyance.

I let out a low chuckle. “Is that what you call this?”

She didn’t answer. Her footsteps rang against the floor, sharp and angry as she stormed down the hall. I let her take the lead, following behind just enough to keep my eyes on her.

I knew she hated me — every look, every word from her mouth screamed it. But that hatred didn’t bother me. If anything, I welcomed it. It kept her angry, off balance — too distracted to notice what I was really doing.

This marriage wasn’t about love or trust — it was about power. And frustrating her? That was part of the game.

Her parents had taken too much from me, and Ivanna... she was the perfect way to make them pay. Their precious daughter — their only child — forced into a life she despised, standing beside a man she hated. It was fitting, really.

But as I watched her march down the hall, head high and shoulders squared, I couldn’t shake the memory of how she looked at the piano — how lost she’d been in her music. How... peaceful.

I pushed the thought aside. Peace had no place here. Not between us.

I hadn’t brought her here to comfort her — I brought her here to break her.

And if I had to play this game a little longer to make that happen... so be it.