Chapter 4: Terms of Escape
1074 Words
The Lancaster estate was drenched in artificial festivity. Crystal chandeliers glittered above guests in gowns and tuxedos, champagne flowed freely, and a string quartet played near the grand staircase. To the onlooker, it was a celebration worthy of royalty. But beneath the sparkle, there was poison.
Aria sat alone at the edge of the ballroom, her hands cold despite the warm air. The engagement had been formalized earlier that day, and the Lancasters had spared no time turning it into a public display. Mcwell beamed with pride as he shook hands with businessmen and whispered promises of stronger alliances. Helena preened under compliments, playing the perfect socialite matriarch. Marvin downed glass after glass, already basking in the attention of the elite crowd.
Not one of them noticed Aria’s silence.
She hadn’t protested. She hadn’t cried. She had simply nodded when her father presented her with the formal documents. She had signed.
Not because she was obedient.
But because she saw a way out.
To the rest of the world, she was the lucky daughter about to marry the elusive and powerful Darius Thorne. To her family, she was a pawn finally being put to good use. But in her heart, Aria knew this was her ticket to freedom—no matter how risky the road ahead.
Darius hadn’t reached out since their first meeting. He had sent no flowers, no gifts, not even a message. But Aria didn’t mind. She didn’t want another man trying to buy her affection. She didn’t want to be coddled or played.
She wanted honesty. Control. And a chance to breathe.
The next day, Vincent arrived with a car.
"Mr. Thorne is waiting."
She didn’t hesitate.
She left the estate without a backward glance, dressed in a soft gray dress and her mother’s hand-me-down heels. As the mansion faded in the distance, she felt something uncoil inside her—something that had been bound for years.
Freedom, however faint, was beginning to take shape.
---
Darius Thorne waited in his private study.
His suit was sharp, as always, and his hair was carefully styled back. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city stretch out beneath him like a kingdom of glass and steel.
When Vincent opened the door and Aria stepped in, something shifted in the air.
She was not the same girl from the rooftop meeting.
She held herself straighter. Her chin was lifted. There was still wariness in her eyes—but also steel.
He turned slowly to face her.
"Aria."
She nodded, taking a few steps closer. "Darius."
He gestured to the seat across from his desk. "Would you like to sit?"
She hesitated, then took the offer. For a moment, there was silence between them—two people sizing each other up across an invisible battlefield.
"I won’t waste your time," she began, voice calm. "I know this arrangement is already in motion. I can’t stop it. And to be honest, I don’t want to."
That surprised him. He tilted his head slightly. "You don’t?"
She looked him straight in the eye. "No. Because anything—anyone—is better than staying with the Lancasters. I want out."
Something flickered in his gaze.
She leaned forward, resting her hands on the desk between them. "But before we go any further, I have conditions."
Darius raised a brow. "You’re negotiating a marriage?"
"I’m setting boundaries. If you can’t meet them, I’ll walk away and deal with the consequences. But if you can... then I’m yours. Fully."
He didn’t smile, but there was something in the way his eyes darkened—a glint of intrigue, of respect.
"Go on," he said.
Aria took a breath.
"First," she said, "if I say no, that’s final. I don’t want to be forced into anything—especially not... intimacy. I want time. Trust. And the right to choose when and if it happens."
Darius nodded slowly. "Done."
She blinked. "That easily?"
"You’re not a prize to be claimed, Aria. I have no intention of touching what isn’t freely offered."
The knot in her chest loosened a fraction.
"Second," she continued, "I want to cut ties with the Lancasters. Completely. No calls. No visits. No contact. If they want anything, they go through you."
Darius’s jaw tightened. "Gladly. I’ve already instructed my legal team to draft a separation agreement. Once we’re married, they’ll have no access to you—personally or financially."
She stared. "You really did plan everything."
"I’ve been planning since the day I first saw you."
A tremor ran down her spine.
She swallowed. "And third... I want to be the only one. No mistresses. No past flames resurfacing. If I marry you, I want all of you. I don’t share."
Darius stepped away from the window, coming closer.
He didn’t touch her. But his presence was thunderous.
"Aria," he said softly, but with the weight of a vow. "I’ve never shared. And I never will. If you’re mine, you’ll be the only one. There’s no one before you. And there won’t be anyone after."
She felt the words settle inside her like anchors.
A beat passed.
"So," she whispered, her voice suddenly small, "do we have a deal?"
He reached out then—not to grab, not to force—but to gently offer his hand.
She looked at it.
Then slowly, deliberately, she placed hers in his.
Their fingers closed.
"We do," he said.
And for the first time in years, Aria felt chosen.
Not because she was useful.
Not because she was pretty.
But because she dared to ask.
And someone finally said yes.
---
The next day, a courier arrived at the Lancaster estate with a thick envelope.
Inside was a list of legal restrictions, financial disclosures, and a formal statement from Darius Thorne.
Aria Lancaster was no longer under their domain.
Helena shrieked. Mcwell cursed. Marvin smashed a vase.
But it was too late.
She was gone.
And no one—not even the Lancasters—could reach her now.
---
In his penthouse, Darius watched Aria move through her new suite with cautious wonder.
He didn’t follow.
He waited.
And when she turned back and caught his gaze, he saw it again.
Not fear.
Not defiance.
But the quiet gleam of a girl who had just stepped out of her cage—and into something far more dangerous.
Choice.
And for both of them, that was where everything truly began.
- Writer
