Asking For His Forgiveness

Asking For His Forgiveness

Alina's POV

The silence on the road didn't just vibrate; it roared.

Aaron’s fingers were still dug into my shoulders, his knuckles white, his chest heaving as if he’d just run a marathon. The air between us was thick with the scent of his cologne and the raw, ozone smell of a storm that had finally broken.

"I am burning for you," he rasped, the words sounding like they were being dragged over broken glass. "Every single second. My heart feels like it’s going to stop, Alina…like it’s going to literally fail in my chest if you slip through my fingers."

I couldn't move. I couldn't even blink. All I could do was fix my eyes on him, trapped in the gravitational pull of his intensity.

"You’ve become a drug I can’t control anymore," he continued, his voice dropping to a low, feral growl as he leaned closer, pinning me harder against the car door. "You think this is about your beauty? About how you look right now?”

He chuckled in a sinister way, tightening the grip on my wrist.

“I want you beside me until the day you lose every damn tooth in your mouth. I want you when you're old enough to need a cane, when your body is tired, when your pussy has dried out and you've got nothing left to give the world but your presence. I’m not in this for a season. I’m in this until the end."

The words hit me like a physical blow. It was a massive, stinging slap of reality that left my face burning and my heart reeling. I had called him a predator. I had reduced his soul-deep obsession to a cheap, fleeting itch.

I opened my mouth to speak, my soul aching to take back every venomous word, but the heat was already gone.

Aaron didn't wait for my apology. He recoiled as if my touch had suddenly turned toxic. Without another word, he slammed the car into gear and tore down the road. The drive was a blur of neon lights and screeching tires until he jerked to a stop in front of the city’s largest shopping mall.

"Get out," he said, his voice flat. Dead.

"Aaron, I—"

"Call the driver when you’re done," he interrupted, staring straight through the windshield. "Just get out, Alina."

The door hadn't even fully closed before he floored it, the roar of the engine sounding like a wounded beast. I stood on the curb, the shopping bags I didn't want feeling like lead in my hands. I wanted to cry, but I also wanted to scream with a joy that felt utterly misplaced.

He loves me. It wasn't just lust. He loved me enough to be destroyed by me. And as I watched his taillights vanish, I realized with a terrifying clarity that I loved him too. I’d loved him since he pulled me from the wreckage of Lucas’s cruelty.

I’d loved him since he took on the burden of my sister’s medical bills. I was a fool, a coward blinded by fear. but I wasn't going to let him go. I would do any damn thing to earn his forgiveness and make him forget the venom I’d spewed.

•••

One Week Later

The hallway of the executive floor felt like a gauntlet. For the past seven days, Aaron had been a ghost. He didn’t come to dinner. he didn’t sneak into my room. He didn’t even look at me when our paths crossed in the foyer. He had gone completely offline, shutting me out of his world with a surgical precision that was worse than his rage.

But I couldn't bear it anymore. I missed his warmth, his kiss, and the desperate urge to scream his name. My troubled heart missed him more than I could explain, and my body was beginning to ache with the same relentless hunger.

Those seven sleepless nights made me realize how hard it must have been for him. This constant, throbbing need that drove him to corner me at every turn. It truly was a drug, and I was crashing without my fix.

I didn't knock. I couldn't afford to be told "no."

I pushed open the heavy glass doors of his office. He was behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, a glass of amber liquid sitting untouched near his laptop.

"Get out—"

"Aaron, please," I interrupted quickly, my voice trembling as I stepped toward him. "I can't do this anymore. I was wrong. I was so incredibly wrong about you."

I moved around the desk, my pride stripped away, nearly begging. "I was scared. I was afraid of how this would end, and I took it out on you. Give me another chance. Please."

Finally, he looked up. His eyes were bloodshot, the dark circles beneath them proving he hadn't slept any better than I had. But there was no softness in them. Only a raw, challenging hunger.

"A chance?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble. He stood up, his sheer height forcing me to tilt my head back. "You sat in that car and told me I was nothing but a dog looking for a fix, Alina. You spit on everything I felt."

"I know. I know. Curse my mouth," I whispered, reaching for him. "I'll do anything. Just tell me what I have to do for you to forgive me."

He stepped around the desk, his presence overwhelming the room. He didn't stop until he had me backed against the cold glass of the office window, his hand slamming against the pane beside my head.

"You want my forgiveness?”

“Yes…”

“Then,Think of it yourself," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear, his tone edged with a wicked challenge. "Think of a way to show me how terribly sorry you are."

I looked into his eyes and saw the flickering flame of a man who was done waiting. I understood the hint. I understood the price of his grace.

A slow, bold heat spread through my veins. I didn't look away. Instead, I reached up, my fingers steady as I gathered my hair. I began to slowly tie it back into a tight ponytail, my gaze locked on his, watching his pupils blow wide and his jaw tighten in agonizing anticipation.

"Is this a good start, Aaron?" I teased, my voice a silken thread.

The growl that left his throat was the only answer I needed.