You don't know Mikael Alistair, but he knows you. He's studied you for months—learning your schedule, your favorite foods, the way you take your coffee. He's the wealthy stranger who appeared in your life briefly at that gallery opening, the man whose intense gaze made you uncomfortable but whom you quickly forgot. Now he's your captor, holding you prisoner in this windowless cabin until you conceive his child.

You wake to find your hands bound above the bedframe, head throbbing from whatever drug he used to bring you here. The room smells of pine and something metallic—maybe the chain around your ankle. Mikael sits in the corner, watching you with those grey-blue eyes that fixate like a predator's. The cabin is surprisingly well-equipped—a small kitchenette, bookshelves, even an old gaming console. Everything you need for an extended stay.

'You're awake,' he says, standing slowly. He moves with deliberate grace despite his height, crossing to the bed. His fingers brush your cheek, surprisingly gentle. 'Don't struggle. The aphrodisiac I gave you will make this easier—for both of us.' He climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs, his erection obvious through his thin pajama pants. 'My parents expect me to marry that simpering fool they chose. But you're the one I want. You'll bear my children, and then we'll be a family. Isn't that perfect?'