Chapter 143

Ethan's POV

I was buried in paperwork when the phone suddenly rang—the emergency contact number for the security department.

"Ethan, this is the monitoring department," the voice on the other end said anxiously. "We've just detected unusual activity in the market. The stock is experiencing a large number of sell orders."

"How severe is the anomaly?" I asked, already feeling uneasy.

"Severe enough to trigger an alert. We think Alpha should be notified immediately."

I took a deep breath. Disturbing the president was never pleasant.

"I'll inform him," I said, hanging up the phone and collecting the relevant data before picking up my phone to call him.

A full ten seconds passed before he finally answered.

"What is it?"

I cleared my throat. "Alpha, the security department reports abnormal sell orders for the stock. If this continues, it's going to drop."

His tone didn't fluctuate much, simply answering: "Then let it drop."

I must have misheard. "I'm sorry, Alpha? What did you say?"

"Let it drop," he repeated, his voice unusually casual. "Don't intervene. Let it crash, then investigate afterward."

I felt the blood drain from my face. He must be crazy.

Not just his behavior was crazy—not having been seen for over a week—now his mind was crazy too, actually letting the company's stock fall without doing anything about it.

I reluctantly hung up the phone, and after a long moment, informed the department not to handle the situation.

Elena's POV

"Remarkable!" Oliver exclaimed, watching the numbers on the screen with growing excitement. After two hours of sustained pressure, Blackwood's stock had dropped precipitously.

"We should stop now," Oliver said suddenly. "We've made our point without causing a market-wide panic."

I nodded, ending the operation. The damage was done—the stock had plummeted dramatically.

"Based on their price per share," I said, trying to keep my voice professional, "they've lost nearly one billion dollars in market value."

Oliver stood up, clapping his hands together. "one billion dollars exactly! Even better than when I challenged them years ago." He extended his hand. "Ms. Winter, I'm truly impressed. Your talent is exactly what we need in our circle."

I shook his hand, exhaling slowly. one billion dollars. I just cost Richard one billion dollars. The thought should have brought satisfaction, but instead, a hollow feeling spread through my chest.

---

That evening, Oliver hosted a lavish welcome reception at an exclusive club. Financial moguls from across the region attended.

I stood by the window, champagne flute in hand, making small talk while my mind remained elsewhere. Where was Richard's reaction? Surely he wouldn't let such an attack go unanswered.

Dennis appeared at my side. "You look troubled, Elena."

I sighed. "I'm waiting for news... from Blackwood."

"You just cost them one billion dollars, and you're worried they haven't noticed?" Dennis raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Richard should have retaliated by now. Why hasn't he?"

Dennis studied me carefully. "Elena, are you sure you're over him? This sounds like you still care about him."

"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped, too quickly. "one billion is nothing to him. Even if he went bankrupt, I wouldn't care."

Dennis didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "If you say so."

---

Hours later, I stumbled into my guest room, my head spinning from too much champagne. I fumbled with the light switch, nearly tripping over my own feet.

"God, I need to—" I froze mid-sentence.

Someone was sitting in the armchair by the window.

I staggered backward, my heart hammering. "Jesus Christ!"

As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I recognized the imposing silhouette—broad shoulders, perfect posture, an aura of absolute authority.

"Richard?" I whispered, convinced I was hallucinating. I pressed my palm to my forehead. "I'm drunk. You're not real."

He rose from the chair, stepping into the shaft of moonlight streaming through the window. His face came into focus—those intense eyes, the sharp jawline, the slight curl of his lips that never quite formed a smile.

"Did you enjoy your evening?" His deep voice sent shivers down my spine. "You must be happy earning one billion dollars."

I felt the blood drain from my face. "I... I didn't mean to. I had to pass Oliver's test to enter the financial world."

Richard closed the distance between us in two long strides. "And then what?"

Before I could answer, he grabbed my wrist, pulling me against his chest. His familiar scent engulfed me, making my head spin even more.

"Say it, why aren't you talking? Elena?" he demanded, his face inches from mine.

My mind went blank. With the alcohol coursing through my system and Richard's overwhelming presence, all my carefully constructed defenses crumbled.

"I was waiting for you to catch me," I blurted out, my voice childlike. I weakly pounded a small fist against his chest. "Why didn't you come sooner?"

Richard's expression shifted from anger to confusion. "Waiting for me to catch you?"

"He hurt your company before," I mumbled, swaying slightly. "I could make him pay for that. Nobody gets to hurt you except me."

My words hung in the air between us. In my drunken state, I had no filter, no walls—just raw, unprocessed emotions pouring out.

Richard stared at me, his grip on my wrist loosening. Something changed in his eyes—the coldness melting away, replaced by an intensity that took my breath away.

Without warning, he pulled me against him, one arm wrapping around my waist while his other hand tangled in my hair. His lips crashed down on mine with desperate hunger.

My body responded instantly, before my mind could object. My arms wrapped around his neck as I returned his kiss with equal fervor, my body molding against his perfectly—like coming home after a long, cold journey.

In that moment, nothing else existed—not our past, not our conflicts, not the world outside this room. Just Richard and me.

Richard's POV

I watched Elena sleep, her chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm that contrasted sharply with the chaos inside me. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on her skin—skin that now bore the marks of my possession.

For nearly twenty years, Elena had been nothing but a political arrangement. At least, that's what I'd told myself. But looking at her now, I couldn't deny the truth anymore. She had somehow, against all my defenses, burrowed herself deep into places I thought were impenetrable.

Fuck.

I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling an unfamiliar emotion creeping through my chest. Regret? Guilt? These weren't feelings I typically entertained.

The memory of her words last night echoed in my mind: "Nobody gets to hurt you except me."

I traced a finger along the marks on her neck—evidence of my marking, my inability to control myself around her. Our bond had always been there, long before I was willing to admit it.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.

I spent the night alternating between passionate claiming and gentle caresses. My instincts still demanded I mark her, possess her completely, but for the first time, I fought against those urges enough to show tenderness. Even if the frequency remained... excessive.

By dawn, I knew I had to leave. She would go crazy if she saw me when she woke up. But I found myself reluctant to go, watching her sleep just a little longer.

Finally, I dressed and went to Dennis's room next door, reattaching the lifelike mask to my face that sat on the table.

The phone on the table vibrated once with a message from Ethan.

'Alpha, if you don't come back soon, the company directors are going to cause trouble!'