Bound by Obsession

Chapter Five

The rest of the morning passed in a blur.

Alina had never seen a place like this—marble floors polished until they gleamed, chandeliers dripping light like glass raindrops, walls lined with abstract art she couldn’t even name. Everything about the penthouse screamed power and wealth, yet she felt like a trespasser in her own life.

The staff bowed when Alexander entered the dining hall. They didn’t even glance at her, as if she were invisible. The memory of last night burned in her skin, but here he was, acting like nothing had happened.

“Eat,” he ordered, sliding into his chair at the head of the table. He didn’t ask. He commanded.

Alina sat across from him, her back stiff, her appetite nonexistent. Silver domes were lifted to reveal dishes so rich she could barely name them. The smell of truffle, roasted meat, and fresh herbs filled the room.

“I’m not hungry,” she said softly.

Alexander’s gaze lifted, sharp as a blade. “You will eat. You need strength.”

Her hands clenched in her lap. “You can’t control everything I do.”

A dark smile curved his lips. “That’s where you’re wrong. I can. And I will.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, not entirely from anger. His voice dripped with possession, every word like a leash tightening around her throat. She should resist, but part of her wanted to know what it would feel like to stop fighting and simply let him take control.

“I’ll eat when I want to,” she said, defiance trembling in her voice.

In an instant, his chair scraped back. He was on his feet, towering over her, one hand gripping the edge of the table. “You think you get choices now? After last night?”

She swallowed, pulse racing. “You can’t keep using that against me.”

“Against you?” He leaned closer, his face inches from hers, his eyes burning with dark obsession. “Alina, last night wasn’t a weapon. It was a promise. You think I’ll stop now that I’ve had a taste? No. You belong to me. That’s not a threat—it’s a fact.”

Before she could answer, he seized her wrist and pulled her up from the chair. The staff scattered instantly, as if used to his sudden storms. He dragged her down the hallway, his grip firm, unyielding.

“Alexander!” she gasped, trying to keep up. “Where are you—”

He didn’t answer until they reached a locked door at the end of the corridor. He swiped a card, and the door opened into a private study. Books lined the shelves, a heavy desk dominated the center, and the scent of leather and smoke filled the room.

He shoved the door shut and pressed her against it, caging her in with his arms. “I’ve been patient,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Too patient. I wanted to give you time to adjust. But watching you defy me? Watching you pretend you don’t feel the same fire I do?” His mouth brushed her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “It makes me want to tear the world apart just to keep you here.”

Her breath hitched. “You’re obsessed.”

“Yes,” he growled. “And you’ll learn to like it.”

His mouth claimed hers with bruising force, devouring every ounce of her protest. She tried to push him away, but her hands betrayed her, clutching at his shirt. He pulled her tighter against him, his body hard and unyielding, his kiss rough, demanding, endless.

“Say it,” he murmured against her lips. “Say you’re mine.”

She shook her head, gasping. “I won’t—”

His hand slid into her hair, tugging just enough to arch her throat. The dominance in the gesture sent a shock of heat through her body. His lips traced the vulnerable line of her neck, lingering just above her pulse.

“You already are,” he whispered. “Even if you don’t admit it.”

Every nerve in her body screamed at her to fight, but the truth was more dangerous—part of her wanted him to never stop. His touch, his voice, his sheer intensity consumed her until there was no space left for thought.

“Why me?” she forced out, desperate for air, desperate for sense. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Alexander’s eyes locked onto hers, wild and dark. “Because you drive me mad. I should hate you, but instead I want to cage you, worship you, ruin you until no one else can ever touch you.”

The words burned through her like fire. He sounded dangerous, unhinged—but he also sounded terrifyingly sincere.

He lifted her onto the desk, scattering papers and pens to the floor. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading them so he could step between. His control, his sheer force of presence, swallowed her whole.

“Alexander—” she tried again, her voice shaking.

“Stop saying my name like that,” he growled. “You don’t know what it does to me.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. His hand slid along her waist, rough and insistent, branding her with every touch. His mouth returned to hers, stealing her breath, devouring her resistance.

When he finally pulled back, his chest heaving, he rested his forehead against hers. “You think this is a game? It’s not. You’re mine, Alina. My obsession. My undoing. And I won’t let you go, no matter how hard you fight.”

She trembled beneath him, caught between terror and desire. His words wrapped around her like chains, but deep inside, something dangerous whispered back: What if I don’t want to escape?