Eight– His POV (The split in His Control)
291 Words
Jealousy was weakness. He didn’t allow himself weakness.
But seeing Elena smile at another man—seeing her laugh, freely, openly, in a way she never had with him—made something snap inside Alexander Steele.
He drove her back to the penthouse in silence, his hands gripping the wheel tighter than he wanted. She stared out the window, lips pressed together, defiant as always.
When they stepped inside, he finally turned, pinning her with a glare.
“Who was he?” His voice was low, deadly calm.
Her brows shot up. “A stranger. A man recommending me books. Is that a crime?”
His jaw tightened. “You don’t smile like that with me.”
Her laugh was sharp, bitter. “Maybe because you don’t give me a reason to.”
For a second, his composure slipped. Her words hit deeper than he wanted to admit.
In two strides, he was in front of her, caging her against the wall. His hand braced beside her head, his face inches from hers.
“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was rougher now, stripped of its usual calm. “I don’t share what’s mine.”
Her chest rose and fell, her breath quick against his. “I’m not yours.”
“Yes,” he growled, eyes burning into hers, “you are.”
Their faces hovered, breaths mingling, the air crackling with something dangerous. His lips were so close, too close—
And then he pulled back, forcing distance, dragging control back into his hands.
“Elena Carter,” he said, softer now, almost a warning to himself, “don’t test me.”
Because if she did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself next time.
- Writer
