Chapter 3 Boundaries Crossed
The hospital chapel is eerily quiet at midnight, lit only by emergency lights and the soft glow from a stained glass window that catches the streetlights outside.
I stand in my best dress, a simple black dress, feeling like I’m attending my own funeral rather than a wedding.
In a way, maybe I am because the person I used to be is about to die tonight.
Kane produced a marriage license along with a judge and two witnesses.
Everything feels surreal, like I’m watching someone else’s life unfold from a distance.
“Do you, Evelyn Marie Howard, take Kane Alexander Hellbound to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
The words seem to echo in the small chapel, bouncing off the walls and mocking me.
I glance toward the doors where I can see the ambulance waiting outside with its lights flashing.
“I do,” I whisper, the words scraping my throat like broken glass.
“And do you, Kane Alexander Hellbound, take Evelyn Marie Howard to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Kane’s response is confident. “I do.”
The judge pronounces us married, and Kane leans in to kiss me to seal the deal.
His lips are warm, but the kiss feels cold—nothing like the tender moment it should be between two people in love.
When he pulls away, his hand remains on the back of my neck, somehow feeling like an invisible collar being locked into place.
“Mrs. Hellbound,” he murmurs, testing the name like he’s tasting something delicious. “It suits you perfectly.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting in the back of a luxury sedan, watching the ambulance lights disappear into the night as they rush Mom to this mysterious private facility.
I should feel relieved; she’s getting help—the best money can buy—but all I feel is numb, like my emotions have been frozen.
“Where exactly are they taking her?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Somewhere completely safe,” Kane replies, not taking his eyes off the road.
“When can I see her? I need to know she’s okay.”
Kane’s hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel in a way that makes me nervous. “When Dr. Reeves determines she’s stable enough for visitors.”
“These procedures can be quite intensive, Evelyn. It’s better if she focuses on recovery without any distractions that might interfere.”
“I’m not a distraction; I’m her daughter.”
“Of course you are,” his voice is patronizing, like he’s talking to a child having a tantrum.
“But you’re also my wife now, and your first priority is adjusting to your new life with me.”
The word priority makes my stomach clench with dread, and I can do nothing but sit in silence.
Kane pulls into the driveway of a mansion, surrounded by perfectly manicured grounds and a security gate that closes behind us with a click.
“Welcome home, Evelyn,” he says with a charming smile.
The house is beautiful in the way museums are beautiful—pristine, expensive, and completely without any warmth or personality.
Kane gives me a brief tour, pointing out rooms I’m allowed to use and others that are strictly off-limits to me.
His office, his private gym, his study—all forbidden territory that I can never enter without his permission.
“This will be your room,” he says, opening a door to reveal a spacious bedroom decorated in soft blues and grays that probably cost more than our entire apartment.
It’s lovely in an impersonal way, but when I notice there’s no connecting door to what I assume is his room, I feel a mixture of relief and confusion.
“We won’t be sharing a bed?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.
Kane’s smile is almost kind. “I’m not a monster, Evelyn, despite what you might think of me.”
“You need time to adjust to your new circumstances and understand what your life will be like now. When you’re ready to be a proper wife, we’ll discuss new arrangements.”
Something about the way he says proper wife makes me shiver with dread, but I’m too exhausted to analyze the threat hidden in his words.
Over the following days, I begin to understand what Kane meant by adjusting to my new reality.
He has many rules and an endless list of restrictions.
I must let him know where I am at all times, even if I’m just moving from one room to another in his house.
I cannot leave the property without his permission and his personal escort because the world is apparently too dangerous.
I must dress appropriately for my new status, wearing the designer clothes he somehow acquired in my exact size.
The isolation is the hardest part of this new existence, like being buried alive but with expensive furniture.
No phone calls to friends—not that I had many to begin with. No internet access; Kane says he’s having technical difficulties with the connection that never seem to get resolved.
No visits from anyone; no contact with the outside world except through he himself.
Just Kane and me in this beautiful prison, with him explaining the rules of my new existence like I’m a pet being trained.
“You’re very fortunate, Evelyn,” he says over dinner on Friday night. “Most women would kill for this kind of security, this lifestyle.”
I push food around my plate, having little appetite lately. “Most women get to choose their own lifestyle.”
Kane sets down his fork and looks at me with that expression I’m beginning to hate more than anything. “You did choose, Evelyn.”
“You chose your mother’s life over your independence, and it was a noble choice that shows your character.”
His voice hardens slightly, like I’m testing his patience. “If you’re having regrets, remember that your mother is alive because of our arrangement.”
At least there’s that small comfort in this nightmare. The updates I receive are positive; Mom is stable, improving gradually.
By the end of the first week, I feel like I’m going completely crazy.
The house is large, but it feels like a prison cell.
I feel like I’m becoming a ghost while Kane shapes me into whatever image he has in his mind.
“I need to get out of this house,” I tell Kane on Sunday morning. “Just for a few hours, please.”
Kane looks up from his newspaper with an unreadable expression. “Where exactly would you like to go?”
“Anywhere that isn’t here, somewhere with other people.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible today, Evelyn,” he says, folding his newspaper with precise movements.
“I have some business to attend to, and I cannot leave you unsupervised while I’m gone.”
“Unsupervised?” I stare at him, feeling anger build in my chest. “I’m not a child, Kane. I’m your wife.”
“Exactly,” his voice takes a dangerous edge. “And as my wife, your safety is my responsibility above all else.”
“The world can be very dangerous for someone in your position now.”
“What position is that exactly?”
Kane folds his newspaper precisely, his movements deliberate and controlled like everything else about him. “The wife of a very wealthy, very powerful man, Evelyn.”
“There are people who would hurt you just to get to me.”
“What kind of business are you in that makes you so many enemies?”
“Don’t worry your pretty head about such things, darling. Your job is to be beautiful and let me handle everything else that matters.”
The condescension in his voice makes my teeth clench. “I had a life before this nightmare, Kane.”
“You had poverty and a dying mother,” he corrects sharply. “Now you have security and a mother who’s recovering beautifully.”
“I’d say you’ve upgraded considerably in every possible way.”
I want to argue—to scream that money isn’t everything, that freedom matters more than security—but when I open my mouth, the words die.
Because he’s right about one crucial thing: Mom is alive because of him, and until I know she’s completely safe, I can’t risk his anger or punishment.
“When can I see her?”
“Soon, Evelyn,” he promises, but something about his tone makes me doubt.
That night, as I lay in my bedroom, I can’t shake the feeling that’s just another way of saying when I decide to let you.
I’m beginning to understand with growing dread that Kane Hellbound is a man who never lets go of anything he considers his property.
Including me.
