Chapter 69

ALINA

“Give me your hand.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the demand.

“Excuse me?”

His gaze didn’t falter—calm, unreadable, but edged with something dangerous.

“Your hand,” he repeated, slower this time, each word laced with quiet command.

I frowned. “For what?”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t even blink.

Just stood there, watching me, as if waiting for me to fall in line like everyone else.

But I didn’t move either.

I crossed my arms instead.

“If this is some kind of twisted—”

Before I could finish the sentence, he took my right hand—firm, deliberate, unapologetic.

The contact sent a spark through me, a pulse of electricity that made breathing hard.

His touch was rough, sure, but there was something else in the way his fingers lingered just a moment too long.

As if he felt it too.

He reached into his coat pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small, black velvet box.

He popped it open with his thumb, revealing a delicate golden bracelet.

Without a word, he wrapped it around my wrist and snapped it shut.

Then he stepped back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

His eyes dropped to the bracelet.

A faint smirk tugged at his mouth.

“Perfect,” he muttered, almost to himself, like the final piece of a plan had just fallen into place.

“Perfect?” I spat, fury sparking in my chest like flint to dry wood.

“I don’t want your gifts—and I sure as hell don’t need them.”

Disgusted, I grabbed the bracelet, tugging at it like it was some parasite clinging to my skin.

I wanted it off.

Gone.

But it didn’t budge.

I tugged again—harder this time—my nails digging into the skin around it. Still nothing.

“What the hell…”

I muttered under my breath, twisting and pulling, trying to slip a finger beneath the metal.

The more I struggled, the more helpless I felt.

“Why won’t it come off?”

My voice cracked, hoarse with disbelief.

I cleared my throat, trying to push the panic down—but it was already rising, bubbling in my chest like a scream.

“This isn’t funny!” I hissed, flashing him a glare sharp enough to cut.

“I don’t accept gifts from strangers… especially arrogant assholes who kidnapped me, forced me to marry him, and think they’re God’s gift to women.”

I yanked at the bracelet again for good measure, teeth clenched.

Alexander didn’t flinch.

He simply stood there, radiating calm menace, that infuriatingly smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Cold.

Controlled.

Like he had all the time in the world to watch me unravel.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming with mock interest.

“Stranger?” he echoed, as if the word entertained him.

“Hm. Interesting choice of word.”

Then he stepped forward—slow, deliberate, predatory—his voice dropping to something smooth and dangerous.

“But how am I a stranger… Alina? I’m your husband. Granted, we haven’t exactly fucked yet—so there’s that—but other than that? We’re married.”

The word hit me like a slap.

“You signed the contract. You wear my name. And now you wear my mark.”

He watched me struggle with unnerving calm, eyes locked on mine.

“It only comes off when I say so.” He shrugged, like it was nothing.

I glanced down at the bracelet, panic and frustration knotting in my chest.

“What do you mean by that?”

He smiled—cocky, pleased with himself.

“It’s a tracker.”

I stilled.

"A what?"

"A tracker.."

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Have you lost your fucking mind? I’m not your prisoner.”

“No,” he said smoothly.

“You’re my wife. A title you agreed to—whether you meant it or not."

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching with faint amusement.

"And considering your charming little habit of running every time my back’s turned, the tracker felt… well, practical. Romantic, even—if you squint.”

I stared at him in disbelief, my mouth parting, but no words forming fast enough to match the storm surging in my chest.

“Do you even hear yourself? Or have you spent so long controlling everything and everyone, that you’ve forgotten what no sounds like?”

He tilted his head, that maddening smirk curling like smoke at the corner of his mouth—like I’d handed him power, not defiance.

“No,” he said, voice low and gravel-edged, calm in the way loaded guns are calm.

“I hear it just fine, sweetheart.”

He stepped in, slow and unhurried, the air between us thick with tension.

“But ‘no’?”

He let the word linger, sharp and cold.

“It doesn’t mean shit to me.”

His gaze burned into mine, dark and merciless.

"It’s the kind of word you break. Bend. Twist until it means yes.”

“This is insane. You can’t—this isn’t how normal people act—”

He cut me off, voice low and steady.

“I’m not normal. And you knew that the moment you walked through my doors.”

“I didn’t walk through your doors, Alexander. I was dragged into them—remember" I hissed, twisting the bracelet around my wrist.

It looked like jewellery—elegant, expensive, even beautiful, with that sapphire glinting in the centre.

But just beneath the stone was a tiny red light that blinked with quiet menace.

I turned on him, fury bubbling up in my chest.

“Is this your thing, Alexander? Is this what you do to every woman whose life you decide to ruin? Slap a collar on her wrist and drag her into your world. Or—wait—is this some sick fetish of yours? Collect women in place of debts, lock them in your gilded cage, fuck them like property, then move on to the next?”

His jaw ticked.

That perfect, dangerous calm of his wavered—just for a second.

The flash in his eyes said I’d hit a nerve.

For one breathless moment, I was sure he was going to snap.

But he didn’t.

But instead, his voice came out dangerously quiet.

“You’re the only woman I’ve ever taken as collateral.”

He stepped in close, his voice dropping an octave.

“Other women? I don’t need contracts or cages to get them into my bed. They come willingly. Begging.”

My breath caught.

That wasn’t a compliment. It was a warning.

A reminder: I wasn’t here because I was special.

I was here because I was owned.

I wanted to rip the bracelet off and hurl it at his smug, arrogant face.

Wanted to scream, fight, run—anything but stand here under his control.

But I couldn’t.

Because the damn thing wouldn’t come off.

I stared at him, my eyes burning with a mix of anger and something deeper—something raw and aching.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and electric.

Finally, I whispered, voice rough and trembling,

“Then why?”

Then, almost desperate,

“Why me?”

I waited, searching his eyes for any sign, but he didn’t answer.

Instead, he looked away, jaw tight, the silence stretching heavy between us.

“When you brought me here,” I spat, stepping back, my voice rising with each word,

“You said thirty days, Alexander. That’s all. Thirty days until my father paid you back, and then I’d be free. That was the deal. Your damn terms.”

My fingers dug into the metal of the bracelet.

“It’s been barely a week....And now I’m wearing this stupid white dress,” I snapped, my voice cracking with rage.

“You forced me to sign a marriage contract like I’m some transaction—some property you can stamp your name on. Like I belong to you.”

I yanked at the bracelet, the red light blinking mockingly.

“And now this—this stupid tracker?” I laughed bitterly, tears stinging my eyes.

“What’s next, Alexander? A collar? Maybe a leash, so the whole world knows I’m just your favourite fucking hostage?”

He tilted his head, that cruel, glinting smile stretching wider.

“Hm. A collar…” he mused, dragging the word out like he was actually considering it.

“Not a bad idea, now that you mention it.”

Then he leaned in just slightly, voice dipping into something dangerously amused.

“And the way you brought it up—almost like you want one,” he murmured, eyes flicking to her throat with a dark glint.

“You seem so eager… It’s tempting.”

His smile widened—vicious, unhurried.

“I could make it look good on you too. Maybe something custom,” he added, voice thick with sarcasm.

“A designer piece, just for my wife. Gold, diamonds... maybe even my initials, so there’s no confusion.”

His gaze lingered on her, unapologetically possessive.

“After all, if I’m going to own you—might as well make it fashionable.”

“You’re sick,” I snapped, the words trembling out of me, brittle with disgust.

I took a step back—because I had to.

Because standing too close to him felt like trying to breathe in smoke, like his presence alone might burn me alive.

“I’m not something to own, Alexander,” I said, louder now, sharper.

“I’m not your pet, your toy, your fucking ornament—”

My voice cracked on the last word.

Damn it.

I felt it—felt the betrayal of my own breath hitching, the tight sting at the back of my throat. But I refused to crumble.

Not here.

Not in front of him.

I swallowed the lump rising fast and finished anyway, my tone sharper, colder than before.

“Keep your designer collar,” I spat.

“Because if you ever try to put one on me, you better make sure I’m dead first.”

“What good are you dead to me?” His voice was low, dark, and dripping with menace.

He smirked, eyes sharp as knives.

“Besides, I prefer my trophies alive—battling, breaking, and begging. After all, death do us part doesn’t mean I’m giving up that easily.”

He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face with unnerving tenderness, his fingers lingering just a moment too long.

“Alina....You’re not a pet. You’re mine. And no designer collar needed to prove it.”

My breath came out in ragged bursts.

I clenched my fists, my voice sharp as a whip.

“You don’t get to change the rules whenever it suits you. Take off this bracelet—right now.”

He sighed, irritation flickering in his eyes like a dark storm.

“I’m done with this conversation,” he said coolly, brushing imaginary dust from his jacket like I was nothing more than a nuisance.

“You can scream, stomp, or throw another tantrum if it makes you feel better. But nothing’s going to change.”

My jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

My fingers curled into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms until I swore I felt blood.

“You really are a bastard,” I whispered, voice raw.

“A cold, arrogant bastard who thinks the world bows at his feet just because he can bark orders and sign checks.....”

He didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even blink.

He simply turned his back on me, staring out at the glittering skyline like my outburst was nothing more than background noise. A glitch in the system he’d already mastered.

The lump in my throat burned as I looked down at the bracelet, the cold metal biting into my wrist. I yanked at it. Tugged harder. Twisted my hand, trying to slip free. Desperate.

Nothing.

The damn thing clung to me like his claim.

“That bracelet won’t come off unless I say so,” he said, voice infuriatingly calm.

Almost bored.

“So before you start planning your grand escape…” He glanced over his shoulder, just enough for me to catch the cruel curve of his mouth.

“Remember that I don’t chase.”

He turned fully now, eyes dark with something more primal.

“I hunt.”