Chapter 36

**ALINA**

My breath stutters, my entire body going rigid. Hatred coils inside me, sharp and suffocating, but I force myself to meet his gaze, refusing to let him see the fear tightening around my throat like a noose.

I lift my chin, refusing to let him see how deep his words cut.

"You think threatening my father is going to break me?" I spit, my voice steady despite the way my pulse pounds in my ears.

"Go ahead, Alexander. Pull the trigger. Show me just how much of a soulless bastard you really are."

I force myself to meet his gaze, refusing to let him see the fear tightening around my throat like a noose.

"You think that scares me?" I bite out, my voice steadier than I feel.

"Go ahead, Alexander. Pull the trigger. Kill him. Kill me."

I lift my chin, challenging him.

"At least then I’d be free of you."

Alexander’s smirk doesn’t waver, but something in his eyes shifts—something dark, something lethal. He tilts his head, watching me like a predator humoring its prey. Then, without warning, he lifts the gun, pressing the cold barrel against my forehead.

My breath catches, but I don’t flinch. I refuse to.

His voice drops to a whisper, deadly and taunting.

"You think death is freedom?" He chuckles, low and cruel.

"No, little dove. Death is easy. Living under me, knowing you belong to me? Now, that's real punishment."

The barrel slides down, tracing a slow, deliberate path along my cheek, down to my throat, resting right over my racing pulse.

"You don’t get to escape me, Alina." His grip tightens on the gun, his thumb grazing the trigger.

"Not in life. Not in death. You are mine, whether you like it or not."

The finality in his tone sends ice through my veins, but I keep my chin lifted, forcing myself to breathe.

Alexander smiles, pleased. He leans in, his lips ghosting over my ear.

"So go on. Keep running your mouth. Give me a reason."

I swallow hard, forcing my breath to steady even as my heart slams against my ribs. His words coil around me like a noose, tightening with every second.

But I won’t let him see my fear. I won’t give him that satisfaction.

Tilting my chin up, I meet his gaze head-on.

“You want a reason?” My voice is quieter now, but no less sharp.

“Fine. Here’s one.”

And then, before I can think twice, I spit—right at him.

The moment the saliva lands on his cheek, time seems to stop.

His smirk vanishes, his entire body going eerily still. The only sound is the ticking of the antique clock in the corner of the room.

Then, with slow, calculated movements, he drags two fingers across his cheek, collecting the wet trail of my defiance.

His eyes remain locked on mine as he brings his fingers to his lips, parting them just enough for his tongue to flick out, tasting what I’ve given him.

He doesn’t just wipe it away—he indulges in it, his movements deliberate, sensual.

A slow smirk curves his lips as he hums in mock approval.

“I’d rather share spit the traditional way,” he murmurs, his voice a low vibration against my skin.

“Mouth to mouth. My tongue deep in your mouth. But…” He licks his lower lip, as if savoring what’s left.

“This will do. For now.”

Before I can react, his grip tightens, fingers pressing into my waist, dragging me against him. The air leaves my lungs in a sharp gasp.

“But don’t worry, Alina,” he continues, his breath a cruel whisper against my trembling lips.

“Next time, I’ll take it straight from the source.”

A slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face, his eyes gleaming with something dark and unrelenting. Before I can react, his hand snaps out, fingers locking around my wrist in an iron grip.

I barely have time to gasp before he yanks me forward, crashing me against his chest. My hands press against him instinctively, but he doesn’t budge—not an inch. His body is a wall of dominance and heat, caging me in like there’s nowhere to run.

"Now," he murmurs, his voice like velvet wrapped around steel. His grip tightens just enough to remind me who holds the power here.

"You're wasting my time, Alina." His tone darkens, edged with impatience.

"So let’s make this simple."

"I want you to do one thing … and maybe—maybe—I’ll let you sleep in peace tonight."

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh, my pulse hammering despite the bravado I force onto my face.

"Let me guess," I bite out, my voice laced with exhaustion and defiance.

"You want me to kneel? To worship the ground you walk on? Or maybe you just want me to roll over and purr like a good little pet?"

Alexander's chuckle was a low, 

"Oh, dove," he purred, his voice a sensual caress that danced across my skin.

"Kneeling would be a delicious start. I can already envision it - those luscious lips wrapped around me, sucking me dry with a hunger that's almost... palpable."

His thumb dragged over my pulse, feeling the wild throb of my heart beneath his touch. The gentle friction sent a spark of electricity through me, a betrayal of the defiance that still flickered in my eyes.

"You'd learn to crave it - to love the feel of my cock in your mouth, the taste of my cum on your tongue. You'd learn to worship me, to surrender to my every desire."

Alexander chuckles again, the sound rich with mockery. His grip remains firm, his fingers pressing into my throat just enough to make me hyper-aware of every breath I take.

“But that wasn’t what I was going to say,” he murmurs, his lips dragging along the curve of my jaw, deliberate and taunting.

“Tempting as the thought is, I had something else in mind.”

His hand slides down, trailing over my collarbone, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against my skin.

“I want you to say it.”

His fingers trail up my arm, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He moves with calculated precision, savoring every inch of control as his hand reaches my throat.

He doesn’t squeeze—no, that would be too easy. Instead, his thumb brushes over my pulse, feeling the erratic beat beneath his touch.

His voice drops to something lethal, something that slithers into my bones.

“Say you belong to me, Alina.”

The words aren’t just a command. They’re a warning. A threat. A claim already made.

His grip tightens just enough to make my breath catch, his lips ghosting over the corner of my mouth.

I tried to take a step back, but his grip on my wrist tightened for a fraction of a second before he suddenly let go—only to seize my waist instead.

A startled gasp escaped me, but I swallowed it down, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Running again, little dove?" His voice dripped with dark amusement, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I thought we were past that."

His grip on my waist tightened, fingers pressing into my skin, a silent warning. He tilted his head, his breath fanning over my lips—too close, too intimate.

"I'm not a patient man, Alina," he murmured, his voice smooth as silk but laced with steel.

"So stop wasting my fucking time and say it."

The demand slithered between us, wrapping around me like invisible chains.

"Say it," he coaxed, the soft menace in his tone more terrifying than any shouted threat.

"Say that you belong to me."

I glared up at him, my pulse a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

“Never,” I spat, my voice sharp, unwavering.