Bound by Obsession

Chapter Six

Alina’s hands trembled as she clasped the last button of her dress. The mirror reflected a woman who looked nothing like the one she used to see. This Alina had kohl-lined eyes, lips painted a sinful red, and a black silk gown that hugged her curves so tightly it felt like temptation itself was stitched into the seams. She looked like she belonged in Alexander’s world of ruthless power and glittering wealth—but inside, she still felt like the poor girl scraping for survival.

The bedroom door opened without a knock. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The air itself seemed to shift, charged with authority and danger the moment Alexander stepped inside.

His sharp gaze roamed over her reflection in the mirror, his jaw clenching as though he hated the sight of her beauty being displayed for anyone but him. “You’re not walking out of this house like that,” he growled, his voice low and edged with raw possession.

Alina spun, heat rushing to her cheeks. “It’s just a dress, Alexander. You said you wanted me to look the part for tonight’s event.”

“I said you’d attend with me,” he corrected, striding forward until his towering frame filled the space behind her. “Not that you’d parade yourself like bait for hungry eyes.”

His hand slid around her waist, firm and claiming, pulling her flush against his chest. She could feel the steel of his body, the heat of his anger, and beneath it all, something darker—obsession.

“You don’t own me,” she whispered, but her voice betrayed her with its slight tremor.

His lips brushed the shell of her ear, making her shiver. “That’s where you’re wrong, Alina. From the second you signed that contract, you became mine. Every glance, every breath, every inch of you belongs to me. And if anyone dares to think otherwise tonight, I’ll destroy them.”

Her knees weakened, torn between outrage and the rush of desire pooling low in her belly. “You can’t control who looks at me.”

His hand tightened around her waist, the other sliding down to her hip with deliberate pressure. “Watch me,” he murmured, voice dark silk. “Better yet, I’ll remind you—and anyone watching—exactly who you belong to before we even step out of this room.”

Alina gasped as he spun her toward the vanity, bending her forward slightly so her palms pressed flat against the polished surface. Her reflection stared back, wide-eyed and flushed, as Alexander towered behind her, his hands roaming with rough certainty. He tugged the slit of her gown higher, baring her thigh, his touch burning where it lingered.

“Alexander,” she whispered, half protest, half plea.

“Say it louder,” he commanded, his voice guttural. His gaze locked with hers through the mirror, sharp and consuming. “Say my name like you know it’s the only one you’ll ever cry out again.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her lips parting as a soft moan slipped past. He dragged his lips along her neck, biting just enough to leave a mark. The sight of his teeth grazing her skin in the mirror made her pulse race. He looked savage. Possessive. Desperate.

The room filled with the sound of his heavy breathing and her helpless whimpers. His hand slid higher, possessively splaying over her stomach, pressing her back against him so she could feel the hard evidence of his arousal. “You feel that?” he rasped, his mouth hot against her ear. “That’s what you do to me, Alina. And I’ll never let you forget it.”

Her fingers curled against the vanity, her body betraying her resistance. The gown that had made her feel strong minutes ago now felt like a flimsy barrier between her and the man who claimed to own her.

Alexander’s lips crashed against hers suddenly, rough and consuming, as though he wanted to devour the very breath from her lungs. She moaned into his mouth, and he drank it greedily, pulling her tighter, deeper, until the world shrank to nothing but his hunger and her surrender.

When he finally pulled back, his gaze was molten, his grip unyielding. “You’re mine, Alina. Tonight, tomorrow, forever. And before this night is over, the whole world will know it too.”

Before she could gather herself, he stepped back, adjusting his tie as though he hadn’t just unraveled her with ruthless passion. “Now,” he said, his voice composed but his eyes still burning with obsession, “we’re going to that event. And you’ll stay by my side every second.”

Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror—lips swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes dazed. She looked every bit like a woman possessed. Owned. And though part of her wanted to resist, a deeper, darker part thrilled at the claim he had just staked.

Alina swallowed hard, straightening her gown, knowing there was no hiding what just happened between them. She turned to Alexander, who was waiting at the door, his gaze daring her to defy him.

She didn’t move. Not right away. Because for the first time, she realized she wasn’t just walking into an event. She was walking into a battlefield—one where the war wasn’t between Alexander and the world. It was between him and her own heart.

And she wasn’t sure which one terrified her more.