Chapter 6

• Elena’s fork scraped against her plate, the sound sharp in the heavy silence. Across from her, Alexander sat relaxed, his posture at ease, yet his gaze remained locked on her. He watched her too closely, too intently, as if waiting for her to crack.
• She refused to give him that satisfaction.
• The tension between them thickened like a storm cloud. Each meal had become a quiet battle, neither of them willing to show weakness. But something about tonight was different. The air carried a quiet charge, as if something was about to snap.
• “I have business to attend to this evening,” Alexander said finally, swirling the deep red wine in his glass. “You will stay in your room.”
• Elena’s grip tightened around her fork. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”
• He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Good.”
• His control over her grated against every part of her being. Every moment she spent in this mansion felt like another chain wrapped around her, tightening, binding. But she couldn’t act recklessly. Not yet.
• The dinner passed in silence. When she finally pushed her plate away, she stood, determined not to acknowledge him further. But before she could take a step, his voice stopped her.
• “Elena.”
• She hesitated, but didn’t turn.
• “Be careful where you place your defiance.”
• A chill ran down her spine. She forced herself to keep moving, her heart pounding against her ribs. He was playing with her, testing her limits, waiting for her to make a mistake.
• Not tonight.
• Back in her room, she paced near the window, her mind racing. The walls of the mansion were closing in on her, suffocating her. There had to be a way out. There had to be something she wasn’t seeing.
• She stepped closer to the window, pressing her fingers against the cool glass. The grounds were heavily guarded, the gates locked. But beyond them, beyond the shadows, freedom still existed.
• A faint knock at the door made her whirl around. Her pulse quickened.
• “Elena?”
• It wasn’t Alexander. The voice was softer, hesitant.
• She hesitated before stepping forward and slowly opening the door just enough to see who it was. A young woman stood there, one of the maids, her dark eyes darting nervously down the hall.
• “You shouldn’t be here,” Elena whispered.
• The maid bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder. “I don’t have much time. I just... I wanted you to know something.”
• Elena’s stomach tightened. “What?”
• The woman’s voice dropped lower. “No one escapes him. No one ever has.”
• A shiver ran through Elena’s body.
• Before she could respond, the maid stepped back and disappeared down the hall, leaving Elena standing in the doorway, her breath caught in her throat.
• No one ever has.
• The words echoed in her mind, repeating over and over, sinking into her bones like ice.
• Elena’s breath hitched as she paced her room, her thoughts tangled in a whirlwind of frustration. The walls of the mansion felt even closer today, the air heavier. She had barely touched her breakfast; her appetite had vanished under the weight of the silent war between her and Alexander. Every glance, every exchange between them carried an undercurrent of something dangerous and unrelenting.
• A soft knock at the door barely gave her time to react before it creaked open. A maid stepped inside, moving quickly and silently, placing fresh clothes on the bed before bowing her head and hurrying out. The message was clear—she was expected downstairs.
• Elena exhaled sharply. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. She crossed the room and lifted the dress that had been left for her—another elegant, suffocating choice meant to shape her into something she wasn’t. The fabric felt smooth against her skin, but she despised every thread of it.
• Descending the grand staircase, her eyes caught sight of Alexander standing near the large window in the foyer, his back to her. The early morning sun poured through the glass, casting long shadows across the floor, making his presence even more formidable. He turned slightly as she reached the last step, his gaze sharp and unreadable.
• “You’re late,” he said coolly.
• “I didn’t realize I was on a schedule,” she replied, meeting his gaze with defiance.
• His lips twitched slightly, almost amused, but his expression remained controlled. “Everything here runs on a schedule, Elena. You’d do well to remember that.”
• She bit back a retort, unwilling to let him bait her into another pointless argument. Instead, she squared her shoulders. “What do you want?”
• He gestured toward the dining room. “Walk with me.”