Chapter 209
Elena's POV
He moved closer again, and I tensed, but he just stood there, staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "Yes, I loved your mother. Elisa was... everything to me. But that doesn't mean what I feel for you isn't real."
"Bullshit." The word came out sharp, cutting. "You're sick, Alexander. You're using me as a replacement for a dead woman. That's not love—that's obsession."
"Is it?" His hand came up to cup my face, and I jerked my head away violently. "Then why did I spend four years caring for you? Why did I hold back from touching you, wait for you to be ready, treat you with nothing but gentleness and respect?"
"Because you're a patient predator," I shot back. "Because you wanted me to come to you willingly so you could pretend it was real. So you could pretend I was her, choosing you this time."
His jaw clenched. "I loved Elisa, yes. But I fell in love with you too. With your strength, your talent, the way you loved Lila so fiercely. If it was only about her face, I could have found any number of women who—"
"Stop." I couldn't listen to this anymore. "Just stop. You're delusional if you think any of this is okay. If you think I'm ever going to—"
He kissed me.
I twisted my head violently, and his lips caught my cheek instead of my mouth. "Get off me!" I thrashed in the restraints, ignoring the pain as the leather cut into my wrists. "Don't you fucking touch me!"
"You're just confused," he murmured against my skin, his hands sliding down to my waist. "You think you have to choose Julian because he's Lila's father, because of some misguided sense of—"
"I know exactly why I'm choosing Julian!" I shouted, past caring about dignity or strategy. "I finally figured out why I was so resistant to you all those years. Why every time you tried to kiss me, every time you touched me, my body would just... recoil."
His hands stilled. "What are you talking about?"
"Instinct." I forced myself to meet his eyes, to let him see the absolute revulsion there. "My body knew what my mind didn't. Knew that you were wrong, that this was wrong. I never felt anything for you, Alexander. Not attraction, not desire, not even basic physical chemistry. And now that I know why, it all makes sense."
"You're lying." But there was uncertainty in his voice now. "The way you looked at me sometimes, the way you'd curl into me when you were scared—"
"That was dependence," I cut him off. "I was alone and terrified and you were the only familiar thing in my world. But I never wanted you. Not once. My body rejected you every single time because on some level, I knew. I knew you were using me as a substitute for someone else."
His face had gone pale, but his hands tightened on my waist. "That's not true. You'll see. Once I show you—"
"Show me what?" I demanded. "How you're just like every other man who thinks he can take what he wants? How you're no better than—"
"I'm nothing like him!" The words exploded out of him, and for the first time I saw real rage beneath the careful control. "I would never treat you the way he did. Never make you feel worthless, never choose someone else over you, never drive you to—"
"You kidnapped me!" I screamed back. "You tied me up, stripped me naked, and now you're—what? Going to rape me to prove how much you love me? How is that better than anything Julian ever did?"
Alexander's hands fell away from my waist like I'd burned him. He stepped back, breathing hard, looking at me with something that might have been horror.
"I wouldn't—" he started. "I wasn't going to—"
"Then what were you going to do?" I challenged, even though my voice shook with fear. "Why am I tied to this thing? Why did you strip my clothes off? What exactly was your plan here, Alexander?"
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Seemed to struggle with something internal.
"I just wanted you to understand," he said finally, but the conviction had drained from his voice. "To see that I could make you feel—"
"You can't," I interrupted flatly. "You never could. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Even if you forced yourself on me right now, even if you made me—" I had to stop, had to breathe through the nausea. "My body would still reject you. Because it knows. It knows you're not him."
"Julian," he said bitterly.
"Yes, Julian." I didn't try to hide it anymore. "I love him. I probably never stopped loving him, even when I hated him. And no matter what you do to me, no matter how long you keep me here, that's never going to change."
Something broke in his expression. The careful mask, the patient devotion, all of it crumbled to reveal the desperate, obsessive need underneath.
"We'll see about that," he said quietly.
He dropped to his knees in front of me, and my whole body went rigid with terror. His hands moved to the waistband of my jeans—the only clothing I had left.
"Don't." The word came out small, frightened. "Alexander, please, don't do this. Don't—"
"You'll change your mind," he said, not looking at me as he started to work the button free. "Once you remember how good I can make you feel. Once you forget him and remember what we had—"
"We had nothing!" I was crying now, ugly sobs that shook my whole frame. "You bastard, we had nothing, it was all lies, all of it, and I will never—"
The door burst open.
One of Alexander's men stood there, face flushed, breathing hard like he'd run up the stairs. "Sir, we have a problem."
Alexander didn't move from his kneeling position, hands still on my jeans. "This better be important," he said coldly.
"It's Julian Sterling, sir." The man swallowed hard. "He's here."
Every muscle in my body went still. Even my tears stopped as shock washed over me.
"What?" I breathed. "How—he's supposed to be in the hospital. He's still recovering, he can't—"