Elias’ Possession

Heat of the Moment

I didn’t know how long I sat there, staring at him. His words still echoed in my mind. I was married before.

He had dropped the truth so calmly, as if it wouldn’t shake the fragile thing we were building. And maybe for him, it didn’t. But for me, the idea of Elias having had a whole other life—a wife—felt like a weight pressing on my chest.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he said, his voice softer now. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest. His tone wasn’t defensive or apologetic, just honest.

I swallowed hard. “Why didn’t you?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Because I was scared you’d walk away before I could show you who I really am. I didn’t want my past to scare you off.”

“Well,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady, “here we are.”

A flicker of something crossed his face—regret, maybe. Or was it resignation? “I didn’t mean to keep it from you, Zahra. I swear.”

My stomach churned. “Do you have a child?” The words came out sharper than I intended.

“No,” he said firmly. “No children.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say next. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. And then, because Elias was Elias, he broke it.

“I love you,” he said, his voice steady, unwavering. “I know how that sounds after everything I just told you, but it’s the truth. I love you, Zahra, and I want to spend my life with you. You’re the perfect person for me.”

Perfect. The word made me flinch. How could he think that?

“Elias,” I said, shaking my head, “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted, stepping closer. His dark eyes searched mine. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re strong, honest, kind… You make me want to be better.”

I took a step back, my chest tightening. “I’m just a simple girl, Elias. I want a simple life. I don’t want to get tangled up in your… activities.” I gestured vaguely, hoping he’d understand without me having to say it.

He nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “I get it,” he said finally. “I won’t argue with you about it.”

His calm acceptance was almost more frustrating than if he’d fought me on it. But before I could dwell on it, he smiled faintly.

“Let me make you dinner,” he said.

I blinked. “Dinner?”

He shrugged. “To make up for everything. It’s the least I can do.”

“You can cook?”

The question made him chuckle, a low, warm sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “You doubt me?”

I crossed my arms, trying to appear unimpressed, even as the corner of my mouth twitched upward. “Go ahead.”

Elias grinned and turned toward the pantry, pulling out ingredients with practiced ease. Then he grabbed two aprons from a drawer, holding one out to me.

“Here,” he said. “Put this on.”

I hesitated, but instead of joining him, I perched myself on a stool in the corner. “I’ll watch,” I said, folding my arms.

He shrugged and tied the apron around his waist. “Suit yourself.”

I watched as he moved around the kitchen, his movements confident and precise. The sight of him in an apron, sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscular forearms, was almost too much. He hummed softly under his breath as he worked, a sound that was both calming and disarming.

And that was the problem. Elias had this way of disarming me when I least expected it.

I hated how much I noticed about him—the way his hands moved, deft and sure; the way his jaw tensed slightly when he concentrated; the way he glanced at me every now and then, his lips curving into small, almost shy smiles.

He’s dangerous, I told myself. Not because he’ll hurt you, but because he’ll make you forget who you are.

But even as I thought it, my mind wandered to the 8pm’s we’d spent together. The heat of his touch, the way his voice softened when he whispered my name. The way he made me feel like the most important person in the world—until he didn’t.

I couldn’t deny my attraction to him. It was primal, magnetic, undeniable. His masculine energy, his strength, the way he seemed to command every space he entered—it all drew me in. But it was also what scared me.

Elias liked control. He thrived on it. And while part of me was drawn to his dominance, another part—the part that valued my independence, my freedom—fought against it.

I didn’t want to be another thing he controlled.

And yet, watching him now, soft and unguarded, I saw a side of him that contradicted everything I feared. The way he moved in the kitchen, his gentleness, his quiet focus—it was so at odds with the commanding, almost ruthless man I’d met months ago.

Could I live with both sides of him? Could I accept the parts of Elias that frightened me along with the parts that made me feel safe?

I didn’t have an answer.

Before I could stop myself, I slid off the stool and walked over to him. He was stirring a pot, his attention fully on the task, when I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Elias froze, his body going still. Slowly, he turned to look at me, his dark eyes searching mine. “What was that for?” he asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

I shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. “I… just felt like it.”

He smiled then, a slow, genuine smile that made my chest ache. “You’re full of surprises,” he murmured, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from my face.

The tenderness in his touch made my resolve waver. I wanted to tell him everything—to admit how much I cared about him, how much I wanted to be with him. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, I stepped back and gestured to the stove. “Don’t burn the food.”

Elias chuckled and turned back to his cooking, but I didn’t miss the way his shoulders relaxed, as if my small gesture had lifted some invisible weight.

As I watched him finish the meal, my thoughts continued to battle each other. Part of me wanted to walk away, to protect myself from the whirlwind that was Elias. But another part—the part that was growing louder with each passing moment—wanted to stay.

I didn’t know which side would win.

It wasn’t a decision I could make on my own.