Interdiction
The scent of leather. Of silence.
A metallic click.
Hope opened her eyes with effort. She was lying back in a wide leather recliner set flat. Soft, dim light floated around her. The floor vibrated faintly under her bare feet.
It took her a few seconds to understand: a private jet.
A blanket covered her. A glass of water waited on the tray. Her phone, switched off. And across from her, in a brown leather seat, Alessandro, elbows resting on his knees, leaning toward her.
His eyes never left hers.
— You’re awake.
She tried to sit up.
— Where…?
— Safe. Far away.
— You… kidnapped me?
Silence. Then a half-smile, more sad than mocking.
— I saved you.
She inhaled, still stunned.
— I didn’t ask you.
He leaned closer, his face hard and beautiful in the pale light.
— No. But you would have died without me. And that, I’ll never let happen.
She felt tears rising — not from fear but from rage, confusion, emotion. If she’d had a clear head, she wouldn’t be here, in his jet, torn from her life.
He stood, towering over her.
— You wanted to play. Provoke. Resist. But the real world is darker than our games, Hope. And now…
He stepped even closer, his breath grazing her temple.
— …now you have no choice.
The tension was denser than the air. Sharper than metal.
Hope stared at Alessandro from her seat. The leather creaked under her restless movements. Her hands still trembled, but her eyes were glacial.
He stood by the window, arms crossed, back to her.
— Where are we going? she asked, voice clipped.
— Somewhere I can protect you.
— Do you even hear yourself?
He turned slowly, his dark eyes locking onto hers. He wasn’t angry. Not yet. Just tight-wound, absolutely in control.
— They attacked you, Hope. They were going to take you from me. You wanted me to sit there and do nothing?
— You didn’t give me a choice. You didn’t ask. You kidnapped me.
He advanced.
She sprang to her feet.
— Don’t. Touch. Me.
Silence fell like a slap.
Alessandro stopped dead. He stared. She was smaller, looking up at him, but the force in her eyes nailed him in place.
— From now on, you don’t touch me.
A breath. Short. Burning.
— You don’t have that right. Not without my say-so. Not without me asking.
He narrowed his eyes — not in threat, but because she unsettled him.
Hope stepped closer, until only a few inches separated them. She lifted her chin, her voice lower, more dangerous.
— You want to save me? Fine. You want to drag me out of danger? Maybe I’ll forgive that. But you don’t own me, Alessandro. And believe me, I plan to show you.
Her fingers clenched the leather to keep from slapping him.
— I’m not some doll you undress and put back on a shelf. You want to touch me?
She leaned in, her mouth a whisper from his. But she didn’t touch.
— Then you’ll wait. Until I say so. Until I beg. And trust me — hell will freeze before I beg you.
She backed away slowly. Like a lioness.
He stayed frozen, breath harsh, consumed by a silent fire he couldn’t put out.
— And until then? he asked, his voice rough.
Hope turned away, settling back into her seat, legs crossed, eyes fixed on the darkness beyond the window.
— You watch me burn.
Silence.
The kind of rare silence, cut off from the world, suspended above the clouds.
Alessandro wasn’t asleep.
He remained in the shadows, leaning against the cabin wall, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes locked on her.
Hope slept deeply, curled under a blanket, her legs folded on the seat. Her slow breathing betrayed her exhaustion. Her body still bore the marks of the night, what he liked to think was fear. And yet, she was stunning. Untamed. Proud. Alive.
She thought she’d pushed him away.
She thought she’d dominated him, stopped him, placed a sacred distance between them.
She believed the barrier she built — of cold words and sharp retorts — was enough to keep him at bay.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. Almost tender. Almost.
She had no idea.
He could have taken her right here, in the cabin. Against the wall, against the window, on the floor, anywhere. She would’ve fought, probably. Screamed, maybe. But she would have yielded. Like every time their skin touched and the fire ignited, it was unstoppable.
But no.
He didn’t want it like that.
He wanted her to come. By choice. To seek him. To break first.
He wanted her to think she had won… only to realize he had laid each trap exactly as he intended. One by one. And she had stepped into them with her eyes wide open.
He had let her speak. Let her voice vibrate with “You won’t touch me anymore,” and “You’ll wait.”
And him…
He would wait.
With all the patience of a predator who knows the prey will eventually crawl willingly into his claws.
He watched her mouth slightly open in sleep, that lower lip he dreamed of biting again. That delicate neck he had gripped and adored. Those legs he had made tremble.
She wasn’t free. She believed she was. But she already belonged to him. Completely.
And one day soon, she would say it.
She would say it.
He made sure of it right there, in the shadow of the jet, while she slept, unaware of the storm she’d unleashed.
He leaned closer, tilted his head.
A breath against her ear. Soft. Barely a whisper.
— I can wait, Hope. But you won’t last.
He drew back.
And sat opposite her. Straight. Unyielding.
The king waited for the queen to come and claim her crown.