Chapter 34

**ALINA**

My heart was still hammering in my chest as I stormed across the room, putting as much distance between us as possible. I refused to let him see how shaken I was. How much his words—his touch—unravelled in ways that made my skin burn with both rage and something far more dangerous.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. Get a grip, Alina. This was a game to him. A cruel, twisted game where he poked and prodded, waiting for me to break.

I wouldn't break.

"You keep looking at me like that, sweetheart," Alexander drawled, amusement lacing his voice.

"I’m going to start thinking you want me to chase you."

His words slithered around me, taunting, teasing, like a predator toying with his prey.

I spun around to face him, my glare sharp enough to cut.

"Oh, please." My voice was laced with venom.

"If I wanted to be chased, I’d run straight toward a cliff—" I took a deliberate step closer, tilting my head mockingly.

"And just when you got close enough, I’d shove you right over the edge."

A slow, predatory smirk stretched across his lips, dark amusement flickering in his obsidian eyes. He stepped forward, erasing the space between us, his heat pressing against me like a warning.

"Careful, little dove," he murmured, his voice nothing but a sinful whisper.

"That almost sounded like an invitation."

I blinked, my breath hitching as the weight of his response settled over me.

An invitation?

My cheeks flamed before I could stop it, the warmth betraying me as it spread down my neck.

His smirk deepened, eyes glinting with wicked amusement as he took another step closer.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" His voice was smooth, lethal.

"Didn't expect me to play along?"

I hated that he saw it—the slight widening of my eyes, the way my fingers curled into fists at my sides. I hated even more that my body had betrayed me, heat licking at my skin in ways I refused to acknowledge.

Swallowing hard, I lifted my chin, forcing my expression into one of defiance.

"You wish." My voice lacked the sharpness I intended, and his smirk only grew.

"Oh, I don’t have to wish." He leaned in, his breath brushing against my ear.

"I already know."

I sucked in a sharp breath, my pulse hammering against my ribs. I refused to let him win, refused to let him see how easily he could unravel me. But as I tried to form a retort, nothing came.

And Alexander knew it.

He chuckled lowly, his lips a ghost of a touch against my jaw before he pulled away, leaving me standing there—flushed, furious, and far too affected.

His dark chuckle sent a shiver racing down my spine. 

"You’re adorable when you’re trying so hard to hate me."

I ignored the way his eyes lingered on me, the way his gaze felt like a caress against my skin. Instead, I grabbed the nearest piece of furniture—a lamp—and hoisted it up.

"Adorable? Try me, Alexander. I swear to God, I’ll bash this over your thick skull."

His smirk remained unshaken.

"Now, now. Violence? I thought you were the sweet little princess Daddy raised to be obedient."

My grip on the lamp tightened at the mention of my father.

"You don’t know a damn thing about me."

Alexander tilted his head, studying me like he was peeling back my layers, trying to see what lay underneath my anger. He took a slow, deliberate step forward.

"Oh, but I do. You fight like hell, but deep down, you’re scared." His voice dipped, almost gentle, but it only infuriated me more.

"You act like you hate my touch, but your body tells me a different story."

Heat flooded my face, and I refused to acknowledge the humiliating truth of his words. Instead, I lifted the lamp higher, my fingers trembling from the force of my grip.

"Get. Out." My voice wavered, betraying my frustration.

Alexander sighed like I was an impossible child testing his patience. Then, to my absolute horror, he reached forward, plucked the lamp from my grasp, and tossed it onto the bed like it was nothing.

His next move was faster than I anticipated. In a blink, he was in front of me, his hand curling under my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"You can throw your tantrums and threaten me all you want," he murmured, his thumb brushing over my jaw.

"But it won’t change a damn thing. You belong to me now, Alina. And one way or another, you’re going to accept it."

His words sent a jolt of fury through me. I wrenched my face away, my pulse pounding in my ears.

"Go to hell, Alexander."

His smirk returned, dark and infuriating.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, stepping back.

"I think you’ll find I’m already there. And lucky you—you get to burn with me."

With that, he turned and strode toward the door, leaving me standing there, my breathing uneven, my heart slamming against my ribs.

I hated him.

I hated him so much it hurt.

But the worst part?

A tiny, traitorous part of me feared that no matter how much I fought…

I was already burning.

I glare up at him, defiance burning through the fear curling in my gut. My voice shakes, but I force the words out anyway.

"You think you scare me? You're just a spoiled, violent thug throwing a tantrum because he can't get what he wants."

The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve made a mistake.

Alexander’s expression darkens instantly, the air around us thickening with something dangerous.

His hand shoots out, wrapping around my throat in a brutal grip before I can even flinch. Then, with terrifying ease, he shoves me back—hard.

My spine crashes against the wall, the impact so forceful that cracks splinter through the plaster. Pieces crumble and fall to the floor.

My hands claw at his wrist, but his fingers only tighten, trembling slightly—not from hesitation, but from the effort of holding himself back from squeezing harder.

For the first time, I truly fear him.

Those black eyes—cold, empty, and consuming—bore into me, stripping me down to something small, something powerless. I can feel it in the way his grip lingers, in the way his smirk stretches wider, wolfish and cruel.

He wants me to know.

He could end me right here, in this miserable excuse of a flat—the same place where he once sat beside me, playing video games like he was just a man and not a monster. But this? This is him reminding me that none of it mattered. That doesn’t matter.

Then, just as suddenly as he grabbed me, he released me and spun on his heel.

I stumble forward, gasping, clutching at my burning throat, lungs screaming for air. But before I can fully regain my breath, a chilling click echoes through the room.