The Contract Bride

fourteen– Her POV (The Rival’s Trap)

The gallery was a maze of glass and whispers. Soft jazz drifted through the air as people moved like shadows between towering canvases, their laughter muffled, their champagne glasses clinking faintly under the dim golden lights. I followed Alexander through the crowd, trying to keep pace with his long strides as he navigated the sea of socialites with effortless precision.

He belonged here.

Of course he did.

The air itself seemed to bend around him, parting for his presence, swallowing the edges of his sharp suit, the intensity of his stare. He was magnetic. Untouchable.

And me? I was the reluctant satellite forced to orbit his world.

“Elena.” His voice was a low command, his hand brushing the small of my back as he guided me forward. “Stay close.”

Stay close. As if I had a choice.

I bit back a retort, because tonight wasn’t about me—it never was. Tonight was about his empire, his power plays, his endless chess game against men like Damien Blackwood.

My chest tightened at the thought of that name. I’d never met him, but I’d heard the whispers. Ruthless. Dangerous. The kind of man who smiled as he burned everything you owned to the ground.

Exactly the kind of man Alexander would keep close enough to watch—and far enough to hate.

Alexander paused to speak with a board member, his voice lowering into the smooth cadence he reserved for business. I stood beside him, silent, pretending to admire a painting while my ears caught fragments of conversation about mergers and projections.

Then his phone buzzed.

I saw the faint flicker of irritation cross his face before he masked it again. He glanced at the screen, jaw tightening.

“I need to take this.” His hand brushed mine briefly, firmly, before he stepped away. “Don’t move.”

Don’t move. Like I was a child left behind at the grocery store.

I exhaled slowly, turning my gaze back to the painting. Abstract strokes of crimson and black swirled across the canvas, chaotic but somehow beautiful. It reminded me of Alexander himself—controlled chaos, passion buried under precision.

“Fitting, isn’t it?”

The voice came from just behind me. Smooth. Low. Infused with amusement.

I turned and found myself staring into the dark, glinting eyes of Damien Blackwood.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, his suit cut just a little more flamboyant than Alexander’s, his smile sharper. Where Alexander radiated control, Damien radiated danger—the kind that didn’t bother to hide behind rules.

“I suppose it is,” I said cautiously, straightening.

His smile widened. “You must be Elena.”

I froze. He said my name like it was a secret he’d stolen, rolling it across his tongue with deliberate slowness.

“I’ve heard… rumors,” he continued, circling just enough to make me feel like prey under his gaze. “Alexander Steele’s sudden marriage. A mystery bride from nowhere. And here you are.”

Heat rose to my cheeks, but I kept my chin high. “I don’t see how my marriage is any of your concern.”

“Ah.” His eyes glinted with mock admiration. “Fiery. I like that.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “But forgive me if I don’t buy the fairy tale. Alexander isn’t the marrying type. Never has been. So why now? Why you?”

The way he said it—like I was unworthy, like I was a puzzle to solve—made my stomach twist.

“That’s none of your business,” I said firmly.

“Maybe not,” he allowed, swirling his champagne. “But I can’t help being curious. What does it feel like, Elena? To be bought?”

My breath caught. Rage surged up my throat so fast I nearly choked on it. “Excuse me?”

He smirked, tilting his glass toward me. “Come now. We both know this isn’t love. Alexander doesn’t do love. He does contracts. Deals. Transactions. And you—you’re his latest acquisition.”

I wanted to slap him. I wanted to scream. But before I could react, his hand brushed mine where it rested against my side, deliberate, testing.

And in that instant, a shadow fell over us.

“Remove your hand,” Alexander’s voice was low, lethal, barely controlled.

Damien’s smile didn’t falter. “Ah. Speak of the devil.” He straightened, slow, deliberate, like a man who enjoyed provoking wild animals just to see how close he could get before being mauled.

Alexander stepped between us, his body blocking mine entirely, his shoulders squared like a wall of steel. His hand caught my wrist, tugging me behind him, out of Damien’s reach.

“I believe my wife already told you,” Alexander said, voice calm but edged with fire. “Our marriage is none of your concern.”

Damien’s eyes flicked to me again, sharp and taunting, before returning to Alexander. “Touchy, Steele. Afraid your little bride might realize she deserves better?”

Alexander’s jaw flexed. “Afraid you’ll forget yourself.”

The two men locked eyes, the air thick with unspoken violence. I could feel the tension vibrating off Alexander, coiled tight, ready to snap.

Finally, Damien chuckled, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Always a pleasure, Steele. And a greater one, Mrs. Steele.” He winked at me before sauntering off, his laughter lingering like smoke.

Alexander’s grip on my wrist tightened just a fraction too long before he released me. His eyes burned into mine, sharp and unreadable.

“Did he touch you?” His voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of thunder.

I hesitated. “He… brushed my hand.”

The muscle in his jaw jumped. His fists clenched at his sides. For a terrifying moment, I thought he might actually go after Damien.

“Alexander,” I said quickly, laying a hand on his arm. “Don’t. Please. He wants you to react.”

His gaze dropped to where my hand touched him, and something flickered in his eyes—something softer, something dangerous.

Slowly, he exhaled, forcing his shoulders to relax. He covered my hand with his, large and steady, before lowering it carefully.

“Stay away from him,” he ordered, his voice rougher than usual. “Always. Do you understand me?”

I wanted to argue, to remind him I wasn’t his possession to guard and command. But the memory of Damien’s gaze still crawled on my skin, leaving me cold.

“Yes,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

Alexander studied me for a long moment, his eyes dark and unreadable. Then he offered his arm, calm and composed once more, as if the storm inside him hadn’t just threatened to consume the room.

“Come,” he said softly. “We’re leaving.”

And just like that, I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow, letting him lead me away, my heart pounding with a rhythm I couldn’t control.

Because no matter how much I fought it, I wasn’t sure anymore if Alexander Steele was my captor… or my shield.