Bound by Obsession

Chapter Ten

The silence in the penthouse was a living, breathing thing. Heavy, suffocating. Alina stood frozen in the doorway of the lounge, her eyes still caught on the girl who had disappeared into one of the rooms without a word. That haunted face, those trembling hands clutching the hem of her dress it replayed in her mind like a jagged film strip.

Alexander had shut the door behind them, his jaw tight, his gaze a storm that refused to meet hers. He walked past her, his shoulders rigid, tossing his jacket onto the couch with more force than necessary.

“Who was that?” Alina’s voice cracked the air like a whip.

Alexander stilled, his back to her. Seconds dragged, and she thought he wouldn’t answer at all. Then, in a voice that was low, almost dangerous in its restraint, he said, “Someone who doesn’t concern you.”

Her chest tightened. Heat rose to her cheeks. “Doesn’t concern me? She was in your apartment, Alexander. She looked like she was falling apart, and you want me to believe she’s none of my business?”

Finally, he turned. His eyes locked on hers, sharp, silvered with an emotion she couldn’t quite name. Anger, maybe. Or something deeper, darker. “Not everything in my life is yours to question, Alina.”

Her heart lurched. “So I’m just supposed to stand here, in your home, and pretend I didn’t see her? Pretend that whatever that was doesn’t exist?”

He moved toward her then, slow and deliberate, each step echoing against the marble floor. When he stopped in front of her, he towered over her, his presence wrapping around her like a cage. His hand came up, fingers brushing her chin, tilting her face up to his.

“You don’t trust me,” he said, not a question but a statement.

Her lips parted. “How can I, when you keep secrets from me?”

For a moment, the world stilled. His jaw flexed, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that threatened to unravel her. Then, as though something inside him snapped, his hand slid to the back of her neck and he pulled her into him, his mouth crushing hers with a force that stole her breath.

It wasn’t tender. It wasn’t careful. It was raw, demanding, a kiss that spoke of fury and desperation tangled together. She pushed against his chest, not to break free, but because the force of it was too much, too consuming.

Her back hit the wall, his body pinning hers there, his breath hot against her mouth as he kissed her again and again, like he was trying to erase the words they had just exchanged. His hand fisted in her hair, tugging, making her gasp, and he swallowed the sound like it belonged to him.

“Alexander” she managed between kisses, her voice trembling.

“Don’t say my name like that,” he growled against her lips. “Not when you’re looking at me like I’ve already betrayed you.”

Her hands gripped his shirt, her nails digging into his chest as though anchoring herself to him. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but all that came out was a broken whisper. “Then tell me the truth.”

He froze. For a heartbeat, his breath stilled against her cheek. Then he leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Some truths,” he murmured, voice rough, “will destroy you. And I won’t let that happen.”

Her stomach twisted. She wanted to believe him, to let his words be enough, but the image of that girl so fragile, so broken wouldn’t leave her mind.

When his lips found hers again, it was fiercer this time, an almost punishing intensity. Her body responded despite her mind’s rebellion, her pulse racing as his hands roamed her sides, his grip possessive, desperate.

The kiss broke suddenly, and he pressed his forehead against hers, his breath ragged. “You’re mine, Alina. Do you understand me? No matter what you think you saw, no matter what doubts creep into your head you. Are. Mine.”

Her lips trembled, her chest heaving as his words sank deep, tearing her in two. She wanted to demand explanations, but the way he held her, the fire in his eyes, the tremor in his voice it made her heart ache.

And then, just as the tension swelled to a breaking point, the sound came.

A muffled cry.

From the hallway.

Both their heads snapped toward the sound. Alina’s blood ran cold. Alexander’s grip on her waist tightened for a split second before he released her, stepping back, his face a mask she couldn’t read.

“Stay here,” he ordered, his tone sharp, commanding.

But Alina, breathless and trembling, knew she wouldn’t. Not this time.