Elena's breath shuddered as Alessio finally stepped away.
His absence should have felt like freedom.
It didn't.
Because he was still watching her.
Because his words still coiled around her like chains.
"Let's see how long you last, piccola."
Her heart pounded.
Her skin still burned where he had touched her.
But she couldn't afford to dwell on that now.
She needed to get out.
Now.
Before it was too late.
Elena's pulse hammered as she turned on her heel, forcing herself to walk—not run—toward the door.
Alessio let her go.
That alone was terrifying.
It meant he wasn't worried.
It meant he thought she wouldn't succeed.
It meant he was daring her.
Elena reached the door, her fingers tightening on the handle.
She turned it.
Locked.
Of course.
She spun around, scanning the room.
The balcony.
Her stomach twisted.
It was high. Too high.
But she didn't have a choice.
She forced herself to move, her bare feet silent against the floor.
Alessio still hadn't stopped her.
He was still standing by the desk, watching her with that same, unreadable expression.
Like he knew exactly what she was about to do.
She didn't care.
She reached the glass doors and wrenched them open, the cool night air rushing over her heated skin.
A sharp gust of wind whipped through her hair.
She sprinted forward.
One second.
Two.
Her fingers grasped the balcony railing.
She swung her leg over—
And then—
Strong arms wrapped around her waist.
A gasp tore from her throat.
No.
No, no, no—
Her body jerked back.
Her back slammed into a hard chest.
Alessio.
His grip was unbreakable.
His breath was calm against her neck.
He had moved so fast.
Like he'd been waiting for this moment.
Like he'd wanted her to run.
Elena thrashed.
"Let me go!" she gasped, kicking, clawing, fighting.
Alessio's grip didn't loosen.
"Stupid girl," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear.
Her struggles faltered.
A sharp shiver ran through her.
Not from fear.
Not just from fear.
Alessio felt it.
He chuckled.
"Where were you planning to go, Elena?" he asked, his voice dark amusement and quiet menace.
She bit her lip.
Refused to answer.
His arms tightened around her.
Not cruel.
Not punishing.
But possessive.
You're mine.
The unspoken words wrapped around her throat.
Elena hated it.
Hated that her body melted against his warmth, against his strength.
Hated that part of her wanted to surrender.
Alessio must have felt it.
Because when he finally spun her around—trapping her between his body and the balcony railing—his eyes gleamed with victory.
Elena sucked in a breath.
Alessio leaned in.
Slow. Deliberate.
A predator savoring his prey.
His lips brushed just below her ear.
His hands slid down her waist, anchoring her in place.
She hated the heat pooling in her stomach.
Hated that her skin betrayed her.
"Elena," he murmured.
Her knees weakened.
His lips curled.
"There's nowhere to run."
Her pulse pounded.
He was right.
She was trapped.
And worst of all…
Somehow, deep down, some part of her wanted to be.