Shackled To The Enemy King-Chapter 96: Meeting Dorian

Once again, she had rolled closer to him.

Her legs were tangled between his, her arms looped around his waist like a koala clinging to a tree.

Yes, she should be embarrassed.

But his scent... mixed with the rose and sandalwood of his sheets...

God, she almost wished she could turn into his shirt and stay wrapped around him forever.

At least she didn’t feel that overwhelming urge to touch him, or be touched. Maybe her ovulation window had passed, and she was back to normal.

She tilted her head up. He was still asleep.

Good. She could pretend none of this had happened.

But...

Before she pulled away, she allowed herself one proper look. His face always looked unfairly good in the morning, that faint five-o’clock shadow softening his features.

One look became two.

Then three.

Then she was simply... staring.

A man should have no business having eyelashes this long... I want those lashes for myself...

Before she knew it, she was reaching for his lashes. When... His lashes fluttered.

Was he awake?

Her heart leapt. She tried to roll away immediately, but couldn’t.

"Ah!" The small yelp slipped out before she could stop it.

She looked down.

His fingers were tangled with her hair.

His eyes were still closed... and a strand of her hair was looped around his finger as though he’d tried to keep a piece of her even in sleep.

...That is annoyingly cute. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

She leaned closer, carefully freeing her hair.

"You’re awake, aren’t you?" she murmured, her face hovering near his.

His lips twitched, barely containing a smile.

"You’re a weird man, Professor," she muttered, tugging her hair loose and deciding to retreat before he said anything insufferable.

She barely got up before he caught the hem of her pajama shirt and pulled her back.

She landed on the mattress with a soft gasp as he caged her beneath him.

"Where’s my morning kiss?" he asked, brows lifting playfully.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, heat curling low in her stomach.

"Don’t start," she warned through clenched teeth. "I don’t want the bracelet acting up."

He only grinned... and then dipped his head, making playful biting motions at her nose until she squirmed beneath him, giggling.

And then...

His mouth brushed her neck.

She froze.

Her fingers clenched in his shirt.

Warmth spread where his lips grazed her skin, his breath soft and uneven against her throat as he lingered there.

For a second, her mind went completely blank.

Then, out of nowhere, she remembered Samantha talking about hickeys... and the meeting she had with Dorian later that day. She figured out what he was trying to do.

Oh no. Absolutely not.

"Let go, you scoundrel!" She shoved him off and scrambled out of bed.

Her heart was still racing, but a smile tugged at her lips as she hurried into the bathroom, one hand pressed to her neck.

She checked the mirror.

Nothing.

She let out a long, relieved breath.

"Are you a dog?" she called through the door. "Biting people..."

She splashed cold water over her face, letting it calm the heat still humming through her body.

This was getting more and more dangerous.

And for some reason...

She liked playing with that fire.

-----

Catherine clutched the file to her chest and drew a steady breath.

This was a job interview. For the new R&D division at BioQuant. Not a reunion with the man who had once been her husband.

She’d rehearsed every line—what to say, what never to say. Keep it professional. Keep it distant. If he made it personal, she would walk out.

And she wasn’t alone.

After their charged morning, Maximilian had gone quiet. He hadn’t teased her once on the drive over. But when her hand trembled, he’d taken it without a word.

That had been enough.

At reception, she expected to announce herself. Instead, the staff were already prepared. She was directed straight to the C-suite via private elevator; no name requested.

They stopped Maximilian.

"He’s going with me," Catherine said evenly.

The bracelet gave her no choice... but even without it, she would have wanted him there.

She had already told William she was coming. Someone needed to know where she was, just in case.

Her pulse thudded as the elevator doors closed. She glanced at the camera in the corner. The sensation of being watched crawled over her skin.

Now Dorian knew she hadn’t come alone.

Would that shield her, or provoke him?

The assistant, Nelly, led her down a quiet corridor. He mentioned, almost proudly, that his boss had arrived at seven that morning, eager for her visit.

Catherine didn’t respond.

Maximilian followed a step behind, face unreadable. He was shown to a couch outside Dorian’s office door.

Catherine inhaled once, met his eyes briefly, then stepped inside.

The door shut behind her.

Outside, Maximilian crossed one leg over the other, his gaze sweeping the hallway with quiet precision. Cameras. Every angle accounted for. Not a single blind spot.

Good.

He leaned back, eyes drifting closed as if he were at ease, one finger tapping lightly against his knee—lazy, almost bored. Only the faint tension in his jaw betrayed him.

He had wanted to mark her before she came in. Leave something unmistakable. A warning Dorian would understand without a single word.

Mine.

But every time he had tried to claim Catherine... he had lost her. The vow ribbon. The past life. The cruel hand of fate that seemed to punish him for loving her too boldly.

No. Not this time.

If Dorian was watching, Maximilian would not hand him a weapon. He would not make Catherine a target.

---

Inside, the cold hit Catherine the moment she stepped in. It wasn’t the air. It was the room. The walls were closed with no glass, except for a big window on one wall. Shelves lined with old books and files, relics and framed histories, like stepping into a preserved past that refused to move forward.

And at the center of it all...Dorian Blackwood was seated behind a heavy wooden desk, leather chair framing him like a throne.

Waiting.

"Good morning, Dr. Preston."

He rose smoothly and extended his hand.

"Good morning, Mr. Blackwood."

Catherine held her file close to her chest for a fraction of a second, then placed it down and shook his hand, professionally.

"Please." He gestured to the chair.

"Thank you."

She sat, spine straight, pulse loud but controlled.

"So..." Dorian tilted his head, a faint smile playing at his lips.

"So..." Catherine placed her résumé in front of him, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I heard you’re opening an R&D division. I’d like to be part of it."

"If I give you a lab," he said, watching her closely, "a team, and funding... will you give me a cure for Alzheimer’s?"

Her breath slowed. Her voice steadied.

"I can promise you I’ll find the root cause of the disease. And from there—"

"We find the cure," he finished softly.

A beat.

Catherine’s lips curved. "You said it."

"Tell me about your research."

She did.

She spoke clearly, precisely, aware he might not follow every technical detail, but refusing to dilute her work into something smaller than it was. This was her world. Her ground.

And Dorian... watched. Not her slides. Not her file.

Her.

The way she held herself. The quiet authority in her tone. The discipline in every gesture.

There was no one like her. There had never been.

His jaw tightened.

Their first meeting in the past life flashed through him like a blade.

Rumors whispered in his ear... His own arrogance... The way he had taken her, believing she was used to such things.

And then... Red on white sheets. Innocence he had never deserved to touch.

Regret had come too late.

The next morning, she had sat straight-backed in the sunlight, every inch a queen already, though he had not yet given her the crown.

So young.

Too young.

She should have been his son’s bride, not his.

And yet he had crushed her beneath his pride, his anger, his spite.

A flower under a brute’s boot.

So, he had done the only thing he knew how to do to atone.

He had given her a crown. And she had worn it like she had been born for it. Sharper than his courtiers. Smarter than his generals. Seeing through lies before they were even spoken.

Perfect.

Except...

His hands fisted.

Her eyes had always been on him.

Waiting.

Watching.

Hoping.

If only... they hadn’t been.

"How about I give you the entire R&D department?" Dorian said.

Catherine stilled.

She hadn’t even finished explaining her research.

"But—"

What would she even do with a whole department when all she wanted was a lab, a problem, and the freedom to chase it to its end?

The question never left her lips, because Dorian was already moving.

One moment he was behind his desk. The next, he stood beside her.

Too close.

Catherine’s eyes widened.

"Be my queen, Katerina..." he said softly. "I’ll be the King of BioQuant... and you—my queen."

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

Not the warm, reckless flutter she felt around Maximilian.

This was different. Cold. Sharp. A pounding that locked her in place even as every instinct screamed at her to run.

Dorian’s hand closed around hers...The hand with the bracelet; the one that bound her.

#Click#

The sound was small.

Soft.

But it tore through her like thunder.

Catherine’s gaze dropped.

The clasp... was open.

Her breath caught.