Chapter 55

ALINA

All I wanted was to be back in my own bed, curled beneath soft covers, letting the warmth erase this living nightmare.

The cold had seeped into my bones, nestling in my joints and turning my limbs numb and stiff.

My back throbbed from hours in the same rigid position, and the wooden chair beneath me felt more like a medieval torture device than a place to sit.

I shifted slightly, trying to find even the smallest relief, but it was useless.

Every movement sent a fresh wave of pain through my spine or made the ropes grind harder against my skin.

I winced as the coarse rope scraped over my wrists again—skin torn, raw, and slick with dried blood.

The ache wasn’t even the worst part—it was the helplessness.

Still, I pulled. Still, I fought.

Quietly.

Pointlessly.

Hoping—praying—that maybe this time, the ropes would give, that the universe would show me some shred of mercy.

But it never did.

The ropes held, as cruel and tight as ever.

Leo had been gone for what felt like hours. Maybe minutes.

Time didn’t pass down here; it dragged, bled, vanished.

And then—I heard it.

The unmistakable sound of a lock clicking open again.

The door creaked.

I froze, every part of me going rigid.

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze from my eyes.

The dim light overhead stung, and for a second I thought I was imagining him.

But no.

He was real.

The figure at the threshold was unmistakable.

Alexander Dimitri.

Calm and collected as ever.

Dressed in his signature black three-piece suit, immaculate and untouchable, like the devil had taken up fashion.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t move.

He just stood there by the door, arms crossed, watching me with that infuriatingly blank expression—like I was a puzzle he couldn’t be bothered to solve.

His eyes flicked over me, taking in the bruises, the blood, the tremble in my limbs, but not a single emotion cracked through that cold mask of his.

Not pity.

Not guilt.

Nothing.

Then, with a calm that made my skin crawl, he turned his head slightly—like this was routine, like I was just another task to check off—and gave a single nod to one of his men lurking by the shadows of the door.

One of the men shifted from his place against the wall. I watched, heart pounding, as he rose and began walking toward me.

Each step echoed loudly against the concrete floor, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to reach me.

My breath caught as panic surged in my throat like bile.

My eyes locked onto him, wide and unblinking, watching his hands—half expecting a weapon, a blow, something cruel.

I flinched back as far as I could, the ropes cutting into my skin, my muscles screaming in protest.

I braced myself for pain, for another punishment I couldn’t name.

But then—movement.

My gaze snapped toward the door just in time to see Leo slip inside, casual as ever.

Leo’s smirk flickered at the corner of his mouth—an unsettling glint that twisted my stomach into knots.

Alexander, however, stood frozen—his face a mask of unyielding coldness, unreadable and sharp as ice.

The goon stepped silently behind me.

My body stiffened, every nerve on edge.

I fought the rising panic, desperate to steal a glance back, but my breath caught tight in my throat.

“What... what are you going to do?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them—fragile, shaky, barely a whisper.

Then—I felt it.

Hands at my back.

Tugging.

Tightening.

Then loosening the rope.

My breath caught.

A sharp sting pulsed as the rough fibres scraped over my abraded skin. I winced, biting down a cry.

Seconds later, my hands dropped into my lap—free.

I stared down at them in stunned silence, wrists red and throbbing.

My breath hitched in my chest. I went completely still.

Not from fear—but disbelief.

After everything, after hours of being bound and left like some forgotten thing in a dungeon—was I being… freed?

What the hell was this?

I didn’t know what to do.

Didn’t know how to move or what to feel.

Was this freedom… or just another cruel illusion before they broke me again?

“Get up,” Alexander’s voice cut through the silence—gruff and clipped, like the order tasted bitter on his tongue.

I obeyed on instinct, pushing up with shaky limbs.

My wrists screamed in protest, the raw skin brushing against my clothes as I cradled them against my chest.

“Go to my room. Strip off whatever filth you’re wearing and get yourself cleaned up—now. No dawdling, no excuses. Do exactly as I say, or you’ll regret it.”

Filthy, I thought bitterly.

Like it’s my fault I’m covered in dirt and bruises, like I chose this nightmare he’s trapped me in.

But I swallowed every word and forced myself to obey.

I managed a weak nod, but the moment I tried to take a step, my body betrayed me.

My knees buckled, legs giving out beneath the crushing weight of sheer exhaustion.

I stumbled backwards, as if the air itself had turned against me—too heavy, too thick to breathe.

My shoulder slammed into something solid—unmoving, unyielding.

Leo.

I blinked, dazed.

Huh.

When did he move?

I hadn’t even heard him step closer, but there he was—

Leo’s voice was soft, almost gentle.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

But before I could even catch my breath, Alexander’s voice cut through the air—low, sharp, and edged with something fierce.

“Get your fucking hands off her!” he growled, teeth clenched.

“I’m sure she can walk on her own.”

There was an unmistakable edge in his tone—something possessive, almost jealous—that made my skin prickle.

Leo hesitated, his grip loosening as he stepped back, eyes flickering briefly to Alexander with a sly glint.

Then, with a slow, mocking smile tugging at his lips, he said,

“Relax, boss. I’m not here to steal your girl....”

Girl? Yeah right.

Alexander’s eyes darkened, and he took a step forward, the menace in his tone leaving no room for doubt—this was a warning, not a threat.

“Don’t test me, Leo. And don’t you ever fucking touch her again.”

Leo’s smirk only deepened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he replied,

“Yeah, boss. Loud and clear. No touching.”

I stood there, caught between them, wondering what game I’d fallen into this time.

Alexander’s eyes flickered back to me, dark and sharp, a cruel grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“And you, stop dawdling. Go—unless you’ve suddenly developed a fondness for your cage. By all means, stay longer if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m loving every second of this five-star prison. Maybe I’ll redecorate while I’m at it—got any tips for making chains feel more like home?”

I shot back, dripping with sarcasm

"Alina...." he hissed

“What? Try being tied up for hours and then let’s see how fast you manage to walk, moron.”

He didn’t respond—just a slow, dangerous smile curling at the corner of his lips.

Whatever...

I stumbled forward, each step heavy and reluctant, like wading through thick mud.

My gaze lifted to Alexander again, arms crossed. Jaw clenched. Eyes burning with a fierce, silent command.

Watching.

Waiting.

I forced myself past him, eyes locked on the door, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze.

Just as my hand touched the handle, his voice sliced through the silence—razor-sharp, cold, and dripping with deadly promise.

“Try running, and I won’t just hunt you down—I’ll tear you apart, piece by piece, until all that’s left is pain and regret. Next time, I won’t settle for locking you in my basement—I’ll make sure you never forget the meaning of real terror.”

The words froze me solid, blood turning to ice.

Sarcasm welled up on the tip of my tongue again—ready to unleash fire, to spit venom, to tell him exactly where he could shove his threats—but I swallowed it down.

Now was not the time.

I gave a single, stiff nod.

Escape hadn’t crossed my mind.

Where would I go?

This place was a fortress, and his men were wolves.

Even if I made it past the gates, they’d drag me back. And this time… he wouldn’t just tie me up.

My shoulders sagged, and I exhaled like I’d been holding my breath for days.

Tears threatened at the corners of my eyes—not from pain, not from fear, but from the sheer relief of being out of that godforsaken basement.

I didn’t know what came next.

But for now, I had air.

And light.

And space.

And that would have to be enough.

Behind me, I heard one of his men speak, hesitantly.

“Boss, why are you—?”

“Are you fucking questioning me?”

The words were low, controlled—too calm. The kind of calm that comes right before something shatters.

“No, boss… no, never. I was just—”

The man’s voice cracked mid-sentence, the last of his confidence crumbling like dust.

“Next time you open your mouth without being told to, I’ll tear your tongue out and have it mounted on my fucking wall.”

A tense beat passed.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

I exhaled, the sound hollow and tired as it slipped past my lips.

My shoulders sagged—whether in relief or resignation, I wasn’t sure.

All I knew was that I was surrounded by monsters—and he was the one they feared. The darkest of them all.

And every bone in my body screamed to put as much distance between us as possible.