Chapter 67 Absurd Illusion
Alexander felt the shift immediately. His arm tensed, muscles coiling beneath his shirt.
The storm that had been building in his eyes—dark and violent from what those bastards had tried to do—froze for an instant, then transformed into something deeper, more dangerous. A smoldering heat that had nothing to do with rage.
But he forced it down. Forced the arousal back with brutal self-control.
"Liam, get the doctor here. Now," he said sharply, not taking his eyes off Caroline.
Liam glanced over from where he was supervising the cleanup. His gaze landed on Caroline's condition—the way she was moving against Alexander, the flush on her skin, the desperation in her movements—and he immediately looked away.
"Sir, the private physician is already on his way. But there's a problem."
"What problem?"
"He's coming from the east suburbs. It's a long drive. He called ten minutes ago. There's been an accident on the highway. Traffic's completely gridlocked."
Liam's voice grew quieter with each word until it nearly disappeared.
Alexander could feel the woman in his arms growing hotter by the second, her body pressing closer and closer against his chest. Her hands had somehow found their way around his neck, clinging to him desperately.
Her lips were seeking his, restless and searching.
A vein pulsed at his temple. "Then send a damn helicopter!" he snapped at Liam.
"Won't be fast enough."
The voice came from one of the men on the floor—one who'd been beaten nearly unconscious but somehow found the strength to speak after hearing their conversation.
"Getting a helicopter to pick up your doctor? That'll take at least twenty minutes, won't it? But she's already been drugged for over two hours. If she doesn't get relief within three hours total, the toxicity will kill her."
"What did you just say?!" Alexander's gaze turned lethal.
"I said she'll die! You hear me? You've always wanted her dead anyway, haven't you? Our boss gave her a massive dose. You think she's disgusting. You don't want to touch her. Without a doctor, she's got one way out—death."
The man's taunting snapped the last thread of Alexander's control.
Boss? Whoever his boss was had some serious nerve, drugging his wife right under his nose with this filthy poison.
The bastard was right about one thing—he did despise Caroline. He'd wished her gone more times than he could count. But until he gave the order himself, no one got to kill her.
"Liam, find the nearest doctor immediately. Bring the antidote. And find out who their boss is." Alexander's voice was ice-cold as he lifted Caroline into his arms. "These men clearly don't understand who they're dealing with. Make sure they learn."
He strode toward the door without looking back.
The man who'd been shouting froze.
Wait. What did he mean by that?
He wouldn't actually—
Alexander carried Caroline swiftly through the dark corridor and into what looked like an abandoned office. He kicked the door shut behind him and set her down on an old desk.
The cold, hard surface made her shiver.
"Look at me, Caroline. See who I am," he said, leaning over her, his hands braced on either side of her body.
"The doctor will be here as soon as possible. You'd better not do something you'll regret while you're out of your mind. Otherwise—"
Before he could finish, her soft arms wrapped around his neck. Her burning cheek pressed against the cool skin of his throat, rubbing gently.
Alexander went completely still, his eyes darkening further.
Every movement she made, every whimper that escaped her lips, was amplified in his senses, firing along his nerves like electricity.
He stared down at her, taking in the marks the chain had left on her neck, the welts crisscrossing her shoulders, the face soaked with tears and desire.
His control shattered completely.
"I'll save you," he said, his voice low and certain.
Then he crushed his mouth against hers, swallowing her moans.
He forced her lips apart, devouring her whimpers and broken sounds.
After a moment of initial stiffness, Caroline responded as if she'd finally found relief from the agony, kissing him back desperately, clumsily trying to match his intensity.
Alexander's eyes burned hotter.
He ripped the rough wool blanket away and threw it to the floor.
The cold air made Caroline tremble, but in the next second, his searing warmth covered hers.
His calloused palms moved heavily over her bruised skin, making her shake beneath him.
"You brought this on yourself," he murmured against her lips, his voice rough. "Now deal with the consequences."
The sudden tearing sensation made Caroline's eyes fly open wide. She cried out in pain, her nails digging deep into the fabric of his shirt.
But the feeling of being filled, of finally having the terrible emptiness satisfied, quickly overwhelmed the sharp sting.
"Ah…"
Hearing her voice, Alexander paused for just a moment. Then he began moving again—deeper, harder, more ruthless.
Caroline couldn't remember later how she'd survived that night.
She only remembered that the drug had taken her too far, stripped away nearly all her reason.
And Alexander had been driven by something equally uncontrollable.
They'd gone from the abandoned factory to Ravenwood Manor, and he'd pressed her down into the massive bed in the master bedroom.
He'd lifted her hips, folding her legs up against her chest.
Caroline's consciousness had swung wildly with each brutal thrust—blurring, fading, then snapping back—until only the most primal responses remained.
After she'd climaxed more times than she could count, Alexander finally stopped.
His burning body collapsed beside hers. Caroline was too exhausted to even open her eyes. The last thing she remembered was his arm wrapping around her waist.
When she opened her eyes again, the sun was setting.
She couldn't even tell if this was the same day or if another had passed.
What had happened felt absurd and surreal.
If not for the aching soreness throughout her entire body, she might have believed it was just an incredibly vivid dream.
Caroline lay still for a long time, unable to process what she remembered.
What shocked her even more was realizing she was still in Ravenwood Manor's master bedroom.
He hadn't thrown her out. Hadn't ordered anyone to dump her somewhere. He'd just… left her here?
The thought filled her with dread.
Caroline didn't dare stay any longer. She pushed through the pain and threw back the covers, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
The moment her feet touched the floor, a tearing, swollen ache shot through her core. She gasped sharply.
She forced herself forward, wanting to reach the bathroom to clean herself up, but stopped at the doorway.
Maybe Alexander wouldn't want her using his bathroom.
She retreated back into the bedroom, looking around for something—anything—to cover her battered body so she could make it back to her own room.
But there was nothing. No clothes that belonged to her. Nothing.
Caroline stood frozen, caught between waiting for someone to come and risking a quiet escape.
She was trapped—in more ways than one.