Chapter 51

ALEXANDER

I clenched my fists so hard I felt bone grind against bone.

The part of me that wanted to snap her neck for defying me… clashed with something darker—something I didn’t recognise.

I’d never laid a hand on a woman before.

But with her, everything was different.

Twisted.

Dangerous.

And I fucking hated it.

And I wasn’t sure which one of them would win.

But something else fought against it.

Her voice.

The way it cracked when she said my name. Not with fear—no, she’d never give me that satisfaction-but with something raw. Something that clung to my ribs like a curse.

Her eyes.

Wide, defiant… even when she was broken, bleeding, tied to a fucking chair—she looked at me like I was the monster. And maybe I was.

But for one damned second, I didn’t want her to look at me like that.

I didn’t want her to fear me.

I wanted her to look at me with something else—

Respect?

Submission?

Hell, maybe just silence.

Fuck, I didn’t even know.

Couldn’t she just fucking listen for once?

Was it so hard to follow one command?

One goddamn rule?

But no—she had to fight.

Bite.

Run.

She had to dig her nails under my skin and make me feel things I had no name for.

And now here we were.

And I still didn’t know if I wanted to cage her—or cut her loose.

My fists clenched at my sides, jaw ticking like a live grenade.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I turned away from her.

Couldn’t face her like that.

Tied up. Hurt.

Bruised.

Her pain stabbed at me, raw and relentless.

Her voice—soft, broken—trembled, and that damn fire inside her was barely holding on.

It pissed me off.

Made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t like.

My mind spun, tangled with anger and something else I didn’t want to admit.

I took a step back and kicked the wall hard, the impact cracking through the silence.

Control was slipping.

And I fucking hated it.

What’s happening to me?

She barely lifted her head, a slow, mocking smile curling on her cracked lips. Her voice, though weak, carried a cutting edge as she called out softly,

“Hey, tough guy... ever thought about how pathetic you look when you lose control?”

I snapped around, jaw clenched tight, eyes burning with furious disbelief.

Alina’s head was still tilted back, her neck bared, her eyes burning into mine.

No tears.

No begging.

Just that same venom that made her dangerous.

Beautiful, but dangerous.

Before I even realised it, I moved.

One second I was standing there, silent, seething—and the next, I was in front of her, my hand fisting in her hair.

The motion was instinctive, raw, and unthinking.

She let out a sharp gasp, her head forced back as I gripped tighter, jaw clenched so hard it ached.

"You don’t get to talk to me like that," I said, voice low.

"Not when you’re tied to a chair because you ran."

She smiled, slow and mocking.

"Then untie me. Let’s see if your mouth works as well when I’m not restrained."

My jaw clenched.

Every part of me screamed to show her.

To put her in her place.

To remind her exactly who I was.

Alexander Dimitri.

The monster.

The one mothers warned their daughters about. The one whose name made grown men flinch in dark alleyways.

But here she was, bruised, bloody, and smirking at me like I was the one on my knees.

I let go of her hair, and she slumped back, chest rising with the effort of simply staying upright.

I stared at her.

"You really don’t get it, do you?" I muttered.

She didn’t answer.

"You're not just some girl in the wrong place at the wrong time, Alina. You were given to me. Offered like currency. Your father signed you over without blinking. And now you’re mine until that debt is paid."

I leaned down, palms braced on the arms of her chair, caging her in.

"But you keep testing me. Pushing me. Like you want to see just how far I’ll go."

Her lips curled, even as she struggled to breathe.

"Maybe I do. Maybe I want to see what the devil does when someone doesn’t kneel."

My lips were at her ear now. "You’re about to find out."

She tensed.

But I didn’t hurt her.

Not yet.

Instead, I stood upright, turning away, pacing slowly like I was trying to keep the leash on something darker inside me.

"You think this is about control," I said.

"But it's not."

I turned back to her, eyes narrowing.

"It’s about ownership. And you? You belong to me."

She opened her mouth, but I cut her off with a sharp wave of my hand.

"Save the fire, Alina. You’re burning yourself out for nothing. This game you’re playing? It only ends one way. With you on your knees. Not because I demand it. But because you won't have the strength left to stand."

She didn’t speak.

But her glare said everything.

I walked back to her and crouched down in front of her. My eyes flicked to the bruise on her cheek again, and my hand twitched with the urge to touch it. To soothe it.

I didn’t.

Instead, I reached for her chin, lifting it so she couldn’t look away.

"This is the last time you run," I said.

"Next time, you don’t get a chair."

I stood.

"You get a cage."

I straightened, spine taut, fists still clenching and unclenching at my sides. But I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t.

Not to look at her.

One more second—one more glimpse of those defiant eyes burning through the pain, of her trembling body bound and bruised—

And I didn’t trust myself.

Not with the way something inside me screamed to reach for her.

To untie her.

To carry her back to my room.

To touch her like she wasn’t just collateral…

Like she was mine.

And that scared the hell out of me.

I dragged in a breath through gritted teeth and stalked out of the basement, the door slamming behind me with a resounding crack that echoed through the corridor like a gunshot.

Two of my men stood guard—eyes flicking toward me, then quickly dropping, wisely silent. But Leo…

Leo was leaning casually against the opposite wall, arms crossed, that ever-present smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth like he was watching a goddamn show.

“She’s one tough cookie,” he drawled, his voice too calm, too amused.

“Got more bite than half the street rats we’ve gutted....”

“....Takes a special kind of crazy to mouth off to you like that. I almost admire it.”

I turned my head slowly, the muscles in my jaw locking tight.

That smirk of his?

It was begging to be wiped clean.

“She’s not your fucking entertainment,” I said, voice low and deadly.

Leo’s smirk deepened.

“Didn’t say she was. Just saying—she’s got fire. Most girls would’ve been sobbing for mercy by now.”

I stepped closer until we were eye to eye, the flickering hallway light catching the hard line of my expression.

“She doesn’t get to win because she’s loud,” I muttered.

“She’s mine. And that fire? I’ll make her burn on my terms.”

Leo shrugged, pushing off the wall.

“If you say so, boss.” His tone was flippant, but he backed off with a glint of something sharper in his gaze.

“Still got under your skin, though.”

I took a step toward him, eyes narrowing.

“Careful, Leo.”

He raised both hands in mock surrender.

“Hey, I’m just saying—if you’re not careful, that girl’s gonna break more than your rules.”

I didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Because I already felt it—that edge she pushed me to.

The fire behind her eyes lit something deep and dangerous inside me.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to extinguish it... or feed it.

“You gonna tell me what you’re planning to do with her?” Leo asked casually, like we were talking about cleaning up a mess instead of a girl tied to a chair in the basement.

I didn’t answer right away.

Mostly because I didn’t fucking know.

Every instinct I had said to break her. To crush the rebellion out of her until she understood exactly who owned her now.

That was the rule.

That was how I built my empire. Power, fear, control—unshakable and absolute.

But she…

She wasn’t breaking.

Not the way she was supposed to.

And that infuriated me.

Leo clicked his tongue beside me.

“You usually don’t let 'em mouth off more than once.”

I stopped.

Slowly turned to him.

“You questioning how I handle my property?”

Leo raised his hands in mock surrender, the same damn smirk still etched into his face.

“Just saying—this one’s different. Either that, or you’re slipping.”

I stared at him.

Long enough that the humour in his eyes dimmed just a little.

Then I stepped forward, voice like a growl.

“I’m not slipping. I’m calculating.”

Leo cocked a brow.

“And the math says what? She stays tied down until she begs, or are you thinking something more... creative?”

I leaned closer, lowering my voice to a razor-sharp whisper.

“She’ll beg. Not for freedom. Not for mercy. She’ll beg to stay. To please me. To matter to me. And when she finally breaks, it’ll be because she chose to.”

Leo blinked.

“So… no breaking legs, then?”

I didn’t dignify that with a response. I just turned and walked away, the sound of my boots echoing down the corridor.

Because I wasn’t done with her.

Not even close.

“Keep her here for now,” I said coldly.

“Until her attitude improves.”

“Yes, Boss,” Leo replied, but I caught the hesitation in his tone.

I started forward—then stopped.

My spine stiffened.

My gut clenched.

Something primal snarled inside me.

I turned slowly, facing the rest of them again.

And this time, my voice dropped into something darker—low, lethal, unmistakable.

“No one touches her,” I said, my tone coated in threat.

“Not a hand. Not a finger. Not even a fucking look.”

My eyes locked on my men, one by one. Daring them.

Warning them.

“If anyone disobeys,” I added,

“I’ll peel the skin off their bones and leave what’s left for the rats.”

Leo blinked, startled—but he nodded.

He’d heard me.

They all had.

The command surprised even me.

Where the fuck had that come from?

What did it matter if someone laid a hand on her? She was just collateral. A pawn. A consequence of her father's debt.

Right?

Then why the hell was my pulse still pounding like I’d barely stopped myself from tearing someone apart?

Why did the idea of another man touching her send that cold, murderous chill crawling up my spine?

I didn’t have an answer.

And I hated that.

Without another glance at them-or her-I turned and stalked off, every step heavier than the last.

My insides were a mess. Rage, guilt, confusion… and something worse.

I was angry at her—for making me feel this way.

I was angry at myself—for letting her.

But most of all?

I was angry because somewhere deep in my soul, I already knew—

She wasn’t just a pawn anymore.

She was mine.

And I didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.