Chapter 208
Elena‘s POV
The leather cuffs bit into my wrists as Alexander's men finished securing me to the cross. My arms were stretched wide, ankles bound at the base, leaving me utterly exposed and helpless. I thrashed against the restraints, panic flooding my system as one of them approached with something rubber and black.
"Hold her head," Alexander ordered quietly.
Rough hands gripped my jaw, forcing my mouth open despite my attempts to clench my teeth. The ball gag pressed past my lips, filling my mouth with the taste of rubber and chemicals. I gagged reflexively as they buckled it tight behind my head, the strap digging into my cheeks.
"Mmph!" The sound came out muffled, useless. I yanked at the restraints, the cross creaking but holding firm. My chest heaved with rapid, shallow breaths through my nose—the only way I could breathe now.
"Leave us," Alexander said to his men. They filed out without a word, the door clicking shut with terrible finality.
I was alone with him.
Alexander stood there for a long moment, just watching me struggle. My hair had come loose from its ponytail, wild strands falling across my face.
Sweat beaded on my forehead from the exertion of fighting the bonds. My eyes were wide with fear and fury, darting between him and the door, calculating escape routes that didn't exist.
He approached slowly, each footstep deliberate on the hardwood floor. I jerked my head away as he reached up to brush a strand of hair from my face, the gesture sickeningly tender.
"Why won't you let me explain?" His voice was soft, almost hurt, as he leaned in close enough that I could smell the scotch on his breath. "Even if I deceived you, these four years of how good I've been to you were real."
I made a sound of protest around the gag—something between a growl and a sob. He was insane if he thought kindness built on lies counted for anything.
His fingers moved to the buttons of my cardigan. I thrashed harder, the leather cutting into my skin as I tried to twist away. But the restraints held me immobile, and all I could do was make muffled sounds of protest as he slowly, methodically began to undress me.
"These four years, I held back," he murmured, slipping the cardigan off my shoulders. It caught on the restraints, hanging uselessly from my bound wrists. "I waited for you to consent. Waited for the day you'd choose me freely."
My shirt came next. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to watch, unable to bear the humiliation of being stripped while bound and gagged. Tears leaked from beneath my closed lids.
"But you recovered your memories." His voice had taken on an edge now, something bitter creeping in beneath the gentleness. "And now you're on Julian's side again. Back with him, like these four years meant nothing."
They didn't, I wanted to scream. They were built on lies! But all that came out was "Mmm-mmm!" Desperate. Terrified.
Cool air hit my skin as he removed my bra. I shook my head frantically, whole body trembling now—from fear, from rage, from the awful vulnerability of being naked and helpless before him.
"You say I deceived you." His hands moved to my jeans, and I bucked against the restraints hard enough to make the cross rock. "But Julian deceived you too. In those three years of marriage, how many times did he sneak off to see Victoria behind your back?"
The accusation hit like a physical blow even through my panic. Because it was true—Julian had chosen Victoria over me again and again. Had believed her lies, had run to her side whenever she called.
But that didn't make this okay. Didn't make Alexander's actions anything other than monstrous.
He stepped back suddenly, and I opened my eyes to find him studying my face. Whatever he saw there made him reach up and unbuckle the gag, pulling it from my mouth.
I gasped in a full breath, then another, my jaw aching from being forced open. "Don't—" My voice came out hoarse. "Don't you dare try to justify this by comparing yourself to Julian."
"Why not?" He tilted his head, genuinely curious. "We both lied to you. Both kept secrets. The only difference is I did it to protect you, while he did it out of cowardice."
"No." I shook my head, hair flying. "The difference is Julian never pretended to be someone he wasn't. Never stole my identity, my memories, my life. You—" I had to stop, had to swallow back the bile rising in my throat. "Don't act like you don't know what you really want from me."
Something flickered across his face—surprise, maybe, that I'd figured it out. "What do you mean?"
"I saw it." My voice was steadier now, fueled by anger overriding fear. "The photograph you kept hidden. Of Elisa Hunt."
His whole body went rigid. For a second, panic flashed in his eyes—raw and unguarded. Then, just as quickly, his expression smoothed into careful neutrality.
"You went through my things," he said quietly.
"I was looking for the truth." I met his gaze directly, refusing to look away despite my nakedness, despite the vulnerability of my position. "And I found it. All of it. You didn't fall in love with me, Alexander. You fell in love with my birth mother when you were young. And when you couldn't have her, you decided I'd do just as well since I share her face."
The silence that followed was deafening. I watched emotions war across his features—denial, anger, something that might have been shame.
"You found me out," he said finally, voice flat. "I thought I'd hidden it better."
He then said, "Clearly not well enough."