Elias’ Possession

Bound by Shadows

The first thing on my mind as I wake up is Elias. Specifically, the way he spoke yesterday about killing someone—his cold, calculated tone, the way his voice hardened when he mentioned the cartel’s plans. A shiver courses through me as I sit up in bed. I should be terrified enough to leave, to run far away from him. But where would I go? How would I escape someone like him?

With a heavy sigh, I push the thoughts aside and dress for work, choosing a sleek navy-blue dress. As I stand before the mirror fixing my hair, my stomach twists. Elias and his world are suffocating me. But for now, I have no choice but to play along.

When I step into the office, Elias is already there, seated at his desk with his usual unreadable expression. His sharp suit and piercing gaze make him look untouchable—dangerously powerful. He glances up as I walk past, his eyes lingering on me for just a moment too long.

“Good morning,” I manage to say, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

He nods curtly. “Morning.”

I take my seat, and for the next few hours, I bury myself in work. But no matter how much I try to focus, my thoughts keep drifting back to him—his cartel, his plans, the way his control over me tightens every day.

By lunchtime, I feel like I’m suffocating, and that’s when I see Kareem.

He’s sitting at a corner table in the cafeteria, a soft smile spreading across his face as he catches my eye. My chest loosens, and for the first time today, I breathe.

“Zahra,” he says warmly as I approach. “Join me?”

I nod, sliding into the seat across from him. His presence is a balm to my frayed nerves. We talk about our date from the night before—how nice it was to escape the office, to laugh and feel normal for once.

“Dinner tonight?” he asks, his dark eyes hopeful.

I hesitate, knowing Elias won’t approve. But then, isn’t that the point? I need to break free, even if just for a few hours. “Yes,” I say with a smile. “I’d like that.”

The rest of the day drags on, but I hold on to the thought of dinner with Kareem. When work ends, Elias appears at my desk.

“I’ll take you home,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

But I argue anyway. “Thank you, but I have plans.”

His eyes narrow. “With whom?”

“Kareem.” My voice wavers slightly, but I meet his gaze.

Elias doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stares at me, his jaw tightening. “Fine,” he says at last, though his tone is anything but fine. Without another word, he turns and strides out of the office.

At dinner, I try to focus on Kareem—his kindness, his gentle humor—but Elias looms in the back of my mind like a dark shadow.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Kareem says, his brow furrowing. “Is everything okay?”

I force a smile. “I’m fine. Just a little under the weather.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push. After dinner, he insists on driving me home.

When I step into the penthouse, the butler greets me with a small bow. “Mr. Elias requests your presence in his room.”

My stomach drops. “Now?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I walk to his door with heavy steps, each one louder than the last in the silent hallway. When I push the door open, Elias is standing by the window, his silhouette sharp against the city lights.

“Where have you been?” he asks without turning around.

“Out with a friend for dinner,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

“What friend?”

“Kareem.” The name feels like a betrayal as it leaves my lips.

Elias turns slowly, his eyes blazing. “My words mean nothing to you?”

I step back instinctively, my heart pounding. “Elias, I—”

“On the bed. Now.”

His command is sharp, leaving no room for argument. My hands tremble as I set my bag down, remove my shoes, and sit on the edge of the bed.

“Clothes off,” he says, his voice cold and unyielding.

I hesitate, but the look in his eyes makes my blood run cold. I comply, peeling off the dress and lying down, vulnerable and exposed. He cuffs my wrists and ankles to the bedposts, the metal biting into my skin.

“What did I tell you yesterday?” he growls, pulling a whip from a drawer.

“I’m yours,” I stammer, my voice barely audible.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m yours!” I cry out as the first strike lands, pain radiating through me.

The punishment is relentless, each strike leaving a stinging trail across my skin. Tears stream down my face as I repeat the words over and over: “I’m yours. I’m yours.”

When he’s finished, he leans over me, his hands rough but deliberate as they trace the marks he’s left. Then he takes me, his movements harsh and unyielding, each thrust a reminder of his dominance.

“You’re mine,” he growls as he reaches his climax.

When it’s over, he dresses without a word, his expression cold. “After work, you come straight home. I don’t want to see you with anyone else.”

And then he’s gone, leaving me cuffed to the bed, my body trembling.

I cry myself to sleep, the pain and humiliation overwhelming. When morning comes, I manage to free myself and stumble back to my room. I dress mechanically, numb as I prepare for another day.

Work passes in a blur until lunchtime, when I head to the cafeteria. As I wait in line, I overhear a group of coworkers whispering nearby.

“Who died?” one of them asks.

“Just a guy on the board,” another replies.

I turn sharply. “Who?”

“I think his name was Kareem,” the woman says casually, as if she’s discussing the weather.

The room spins. Kareem. Dead. No. It can’t be.

“How?” I demand, my voice shaking.

“Not sure. Murder, maybe? Heard he was found this morning.”

My chest tightens as her words sink in. Murder. Kareem.

The image of Elias flashes in my mind, his cold voice, his piercing gaze.

“Elias,” I whisper, the name falling from my lips like a curse.

And just like that, everything clicks into place.