Elena stood by the window of Alexander's penthouse, staring at the sprawling city below. The skyline glittered with a deceptive calm, but her mind was anything but peaceful. The chilling video she had received played on repeat in her thoughts—the masked figure, the bloodstained message, the unspoken threat that made her stomach coil with unease.
Alexander had acted immediately, reinforcing security around her, but instead of feeling safe, she felt trapped. Caged.
"You're awfully quiet," Alexander's voice broke through the tense silence.
She turned to find him leaning against the doorway, his sharp gaze trained on her. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, the top buttons undone. Casual, but dangerous. The kind of danger that made her pulse quicken in ways she didn't want to admit.
"I don't like being locked up," she admitted.
His expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—annoyance, maybe. "You were sent a death threat, Elena. Forgive me for not letting you waltz into the lion's den unprotected."
"Dominic," she muttered. "It has to be him."
Alexander took a slow step forward. "You sound uncertain."
Because she was. Dominic was cruel, but this felt... calculated. Colder.
She turned away, frustration bubbling up. "I need to find out who did this."
"You need to let me handle it."
Elena's jaw tightened. "I'm not some fragile woman who needs to be saved, Alexander."
His expression darkened. "And I'm not some man who lets what's mine be hunted."
Her breath hitched at the possessiveness in his tone. A part of her wanted to snap at him for treating her like property, but another part—one she barely understood—felt something dangerously close to warmth.
She pushed past it. "Then at least let me be involved."
"No."
She took a step closer, challenging him. "You don't own me."
Alexander's lips curved into something wicked. "That's debatable."
Before she could fire back, his phone rang. His gaze flickered to the screen, and his jaw tensed. He answered with a clipped, "What?"
Elena watched as his expression darkened further. He hung up a moment later, eyes locking onto her.
"They found the man who sent the video."
Her heart pounded. "Who?"
Alexander's smirk was pure danger. "Let's find out."
The interrogation room was dimly lit, the air thick with tension. Elena stood beside Alexander as a beaten, bloodied man slumped in the chair before them.
"Who sent you?" Alexander's voice was deceptively calm.
The man coughed, spitting blood. "I—was just paid to deliver the package. I don't know anything else."
Alexander's fingers flexed at his side. "Wrong answer."
Before Elena could react, he grabbed the man by the collar, dragging him forward.
"I don't like repeating myself." His voice dropped to something lethal. "Who sent you?"
The man trembled. "I swear, I—I don't know their name! They wired the money from an untraceable account."
Elena clenched her fists. "Then describe them."
The man hesitated.
Alexander's grip tightened. "Speak."
"A woman," he gasped out. "Well-dressed. Expensive perfume. Cold as ice."
Elena's stomach twisted. "Serena Laurent."
Alexander's expression was unreadable, but his grip loosened.
The man wheezed in relief. "I told you what I know."
Alexander studied him for a moment before stepping back. "You're free to go."
Elena's head snapped to him in disbelief. "What—?"
The man barely had time to exhale before Alexander pulled out his gun and fired.
Elena flinched, the sound echoing through the room. The man slumped forward, unmoving.
Her breath came faster. "You—"
Alexander turned to her, gaze unreadable. "He was a loose end."
Something inside her twisted. "You didn't have to kill him."
"He would've talked to someone else. Put you in more danger." His voice was cold, but there was something else beneath it. Something deeper.
She held his gaze, searching for a piece of the man she had kissed, the man who had held her through the night. But all she saw was the ruthless billionaire, the man who played with power like it was his birthright.
And yet, even now, her heart pounded for him.
"Dangerous men do what needs to be done, Elena." His voice was softer this time. "You chose to be with me. Remember that."
She swallowed hard. "I haven't forgotten."
Neither had he.
And that was what scared her the most.
Elena could still hear the gunshot ringing in her ears as she sat in the backseat of Alexander's car. The city lights blurred past them, but her mind was far away—stuck in that interrogation room, in the cold way Alexander had pulled the trigger, in the way he had looked at her afterward.
She had always known what kind of man he was. Ruthless. Calculated. Dangerous. But seeing it up close, watching him end a life without hesitation… it shook her more than she wanted to admit.
The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken words.
"You're upset." Alexander's voice cut through the quiet.
Elena let out a dry laugh, crossing her arms. "You just executed a man in front of me. Should I be impressed instead?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he kept his gaze on the road, his grip on the steering wheel relaxed—too relaxed.
"Would you rather he walked free?" His voice was even, as if they were discussing a business deal. "So he could warn whoever sent him? So they could try again?"
"You didn't even try to get more out of him."
"I got what I needed."
Elena turned to face him fully, anger bubbling up. "And what if he wasn't lying? What if he really didn't know anything else?"
Alexander exhaled slowly, as if he was trying to contain his patience. "Then he was still a loose end. And in my world, loose ends don't live long."
His world.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. She had stepped into his world the moment she signed that contract, the moment she agreed to be his wife in name only. But this—this was something different. This was the part of him she wasn't sure she could understand.
"I won't apologize for protecting you, Elena." His voice was softer now, but no less firm.
She clenched her fists. "I don't need protection. I need the truth. If Serena Laurent is behind this, I want to know why."
Alexander's jaw tightened at the name. "So do I."
He turned onto the private road leading to his penthouse, the towering glass building looming ahead. Elena forced herself to push past her unease. She wasn't naïve. She had seen men like Alexander before—men who played by their own rules, men who made decisions with the flick of a wrist and never looked back.
But she had also seen what happened to people who got too close to them.
And for the first time since this arrangement began, she wondered if she was in too deep.
The elevator ride was tense.
Alexander stood beside her, his presence overwhelming in the confined space. Elena's heart pounded, not just from what had happened earlier but from the realization that she was still affected by him—by his touch, his voice, the way he looked at her as if he was always two steps ahead.
When the doors slid open, she stepped out first, desperate for space. But the moment she entered the penthouse, she froze.
A woman stood in the middle of the living room, draped in an expensive silk dress, her dark hair styled to perfection. She turned slowly, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Well, well," Serena Laurent purred, her gaze landing on Elena. "You must be the new Mrs. Volkov."
Elena felt Alexander step up behind her, his presence suddenly ice-cold.
"What the hell are you doing here, Serena?" His voice was dangerously low.
Serena's smirk didn't waver. "Relax, darling. I just wanted to catch up."
Elena's pulse spiked at the way she said it—so familiar, so confident.
Alexander's entire body was tense, but his face remained unreadable. "You have five seconds to explain why I shouldn't throw you out."
Serena sighed dramatically, walking toward them with the grace of a queen. "You always were impatient, Alexander." She turned to Elena, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Tell me, dear, do you know how I met your husband?"
Elena refused to react. "I don't particularly care."
Serena let out a soft laugh. "Oh, but you should. Because before you, I was supposed to be Mrs. Volkov."
The air in the room shifted.
Elena's breath caught, but she didn't let it show.
She turned to Alexander, but he was still staring at Serena, his expression like stone.
"Get out," he said, voice like steel.
Serena pouted. "Not even a drink? After all we've been through?"
Elena finally found her voice. "You were engaged?"
Alexander's eyes flicked to her, something unreadable passing through them.
"It wasn't like that," he said.
Serena let out a soft hum. "Not from your perspective, maybe. But from mine? Oh, darling, it was exactly like that."
Elena's stomach twisted, but she refused to show weakness.
Serena's gaze flickered between them before her smirk widened. "I can see I've overstayed my welcome. But I'll be seeing you again, Alexander." She turned to Elena, voice laced with amusement. "And you too, Mrs. Volkov. Try not to get yourself killed before then."
With that, she strode out, leaving silence in her wake.
Elena turned to Alexander, anger and something else—something she couldn't name—burning inside her. "Tell me the truth. Were you engaged to her?"
Alexander sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's complicated."
"Then uncomplicate it."
His jaw tightened, but before he could answer, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and whatever he saw made his entire body go still.
Elena frowned. "What is it?"
He exhaled sharply before meeting her gaze. "It's about the attack. We were wrong."
Her stomach dropped. "What do you mean?"
Alexander's expression was unreadable, but his next words sent a chill down her spine.
"Serena wasn't behind it."
Hook: "If you keep testing keep testing my patience, Elena, I'll show you just how much control I have over you."