Chapter 5

• The mansion felt even colder that night. Elena lay awake in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, her thoughts spiraling. It had been days since she was brought here, and with every passing hour, it became more apparent that she was trapped—both physically and emotionally. Alexander’s presence was like a shadow that followed her everywhere, suffocating her with every glance, every word.
• She tossed and turned, unable to find any comfort in the silk sheets that clung to her skin. The bed, once a symbol of luxury, now felt like a tomb. A gilded cage, designed to keep her in but never to set her free.
• She heard the faintest sound—footsteps outside her door—and her heart skipped a beat. She held her breath, praying it wasn’t Alexander. Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts, but none of them brought her any comfort.
• The door opened quietly, and there he stood, as imposing as ever, his figure outlined by the dim hallway light. His eyes locked onto hers immediately, and for a moment, they both stayed frozen, neither one speaking.
• “What do you want?” Elena asked, her voice hoarse, though she wasn’t sure if it was from sleep or from the anger that had been building inside her since the moment she arrived.
• “I thought we should talk,” Alexander replied, his tone low but firm. “About how we’re going to make this work.”
• Elena’s chest tightened at his words. Make this work? What did that even mean? She had never agreed to this—never given him permission to turn her life upside down.
• “I’m not here to make things work,” she said coldly, sitting up in the bed. “I’m not going to ‘get along’ with you, Alexander. You can try all you want, but I’m never going to accept this. I’m never going to accept you.”
• His eyes narrowed, a flash of something dark flickering in them. But when he spoke, his voice was calm, almost eerily so. “You don’t have to accept me, Elena. But you’ll learn to accept this—what we have, what’s happening between us. It’s inevitable.”
• The words hit her like a punch, and she recoiled, her fists clenching at her sides. He always spoke like he knew what was coming, as if everything was already decided. It made her feel powerless, small. But she wouldn’t let him see that. She refused to show him any weakness.
• “I’m not some prize you can claim whenever you feel like it,” she shot back. “You don’t own me, no matter what you think.”
• “I don’t think it, Elena. I know it,” he replied, his voice sharp, but there was something else there—a deeper, more dangerous edge that made her blood run cold.
• Before she could respond, he took a step closer to the bed, his presence towering over her. Elena’s breath caught in her throat. She hated the way he made her feel—small, fragile, like she didn’t stand a chance. He had a way of breaking her defenses with just a few words, a look, and she hated herself for it.
• “I told you before,” he said, his voice now a whisper. “You’re mine. And you’ll learn to accept it. No matter how long it takes.”
• She didn’t reply. She couldn’t. She didn’t know what else to say. There was nothing she could say that would change anything. But she would not lie down. She would not give him the satisfaction of breaking her. Not yet.
• He watched her silently for a long moment, his gaze unwavering, before finally stepping back. “We’ll see how long your resistance lasts,” he said softly, his tone laced with a dangerous promise.
• With that, he turned and left the room, leaving her alone in the silence of the night.
• The next morning, the weight of the encounter lingered, pressing down on Elena like a heavy stone. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Alexander’s words had been more than just threats—they had been a warning. And she had no idea how to fight back against someone so powerful, so sure of himself.
• She got out of bed, her legs unsteady beneath her, and walked over to the window. The city sprawled out before her, beautiful and untouchable. The freedom she once had felt so far away now, almost like a distant dream.
• But she refused to give up. She couldn’t.
• After a few moments of staring out at the city, she turned and began to get ready for the day. The staff had already left a new set of clothes for her—expensive, immaculate, but not what she would have chosen for herself. She dressed quickly, not caring about the fancy garments she had to wear, and went to the door.
• When she stepped into the hallway, she was immediately met with one of the guards stationed at the end of the hall. He gave her a polite nod, but there was something in his eyes that made her uneasy. He knew who she was now—he knew that she was the prisoner, the one who had been sold.
• She ignored him, walking past him without a word. She didn’t care anymore.
• As she walked down the hallway, she passed several more guards, each one offering the same neutral glance. Elena was starting to feel like a prisoner in her own skin—watched, judged, controlled. She had no privacy, no space. Everything was under Alexander’s watchful eye.
• It wasn’t long before she reached the grand dining room where Alexander was already seated, looking as though he owned the world.
• When he saw her enter, he didn’t stand up. He didn’t even acknowledge her presence at first, but his eyes flicked to her briefly, that calculating gaze scanning her face.
• “Elena,” he said, his tone colder than usual. “Sit.”
• She hesitated but then did as he commanded. The familiar unease settled in her stomach as she sat across from him.
• “Did you sleep well?” he asked, as if their last conversation hadn’t happened at all, as if the tension between them hadn’t reached an unbearable level.
• “None of your business,” she snapped back, her anger bubbling to the surface. She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to let him see how rattled she was.
• Alexander only smiled, the smile cold and predatory. “You’ll learn. You’ll see. This doesn’t have to be hard.”
• But Elena wasn’t listening. She couldn’t listen. The fear and hatred she felt for him were like a fire burning in her chest, making it impossible to focus on anything else.
• As they ate in silence, the tension between them thickened. The game was just beginning, and Elena had no idea what kind of twisted game Alexander was playing.