Bound by Contract, Owned by Hate

Sign or Lose Everything

Chapter 4

(Xander's POV)

She kisses like she wants to kill me.

And f**k if I don’t want her to try.

Sophia Laurent’s fingers are twisted in my shirt, her mouth hot and furious against mine, like she’s pouring every drop of fifteen years of hatred straight down my throat. I taste champagne and rage on her tongue. My hand stays locked at the back of her neck, holding her exactly where I want her, pressed against me, trapped, 'mine' .

For one year, at least.

When I finally pull back, her lips are swollen, her eyes wide and furious. That giant diamond on her finger catches the light like a brand. Perfect.

“Welcome to hell, Sophia,” I murmur against her mouth. “Try not to enjoy it too much.”

Her breath hitches. For a split second I see it, raw, unwanted heat flashing in those hazel eyes before she slams the walls back up. She shoves at my chest, but I don’t let her go far. Not yet.

The lawyers are pretending not to watch, gathering their papers like this is just another Tuesday night merger. My lawyer, Richard, clears his throat. “Everything is signed and filed. The marriage license will be expedited. Ceremony in forty-eight hours to satisfy Phoenix Holdings.”

Sophia’s head snaps toward him. “Forty-eight hours?”

I smile. “Afraid you’ll change your mind, wife?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever I want. Starting tonight.”

Her cheeks flush, anger or something else, I don’t care. I like the color on her. I want to see how far down that flush goes when she’s under me.

Because she will be.

The contract says we share a bed. It doesn’t say we have to sleep.

I release her slowly, letting my fingers trail down her arm. Her skin is silk over steel. She yanks away like my touch burns, but we both know the truth. That kiss wasn’t just hate. It was fifteen years of foreplay.

My mind flashes back to my father’s voice, cold and commanding, from when I was seventeen.

“The Laurents think they’re clever. Henri tried to screw us first. We just finished it.”

I believed him. Why wouldn’t I? Until tonight, watching Sophia sign her name like she was signing her own death warrant, something twisted in my chest. Not guilt. Something sharper.

Possession.

This woman has haunted me for years. First as the angry girl who glared at me across gala halls, then as the fierce competitor who kept refusing to stay down. Now she’s going to live in my penthouse. Sleep in my bed. Wear my ring.

And she still looks at me like she wants to watch me bleed.

It’s the most addictive thing I’ve ever felt.

The red-dress date whose name I’ve already forgotten is gone. Smart woman. She read the room. Sophia Laurent just became the only woman in my world, whether she likes it or not.

I lean in close again, voice low so only she hears. “My driver will take you home to pack. One suitcase. Everything else will be moved to the penthouse tomorrow. You have until midnight to be in my bed.”

Her eyes flash pure murder. “I’m not your w***e, Voss.”

“No,” I agree, brushing a thumb across her bottom lip. “You’re my wife. And in public, you’ll smile like you can’t keep your hands off me. In private…” I let my gaze drop deliberately down her body, over the curve of her breasts in that emerald gown, down to where the slit reveals long, toned legs. “In private, we’ll see how long you can keep pretending you hate me while you’re screaming my name.”

She slaps my hand away. Hard.

The sound echoes in the lounge. The lawyers freeze.

I laugh softly. “Feisty. Good. I like it when you fight.”

“You’re sick,” she hisses.

“And you’re wet,” I reply, because I can see the way her thighs press together. “Don’t worry, Sophia. I’ll take care of that soon enough.”

She grabs her clutch and storms toward the door, every step sharp and furious. At the threshold she stops, back ramrod straight, and looks over her shoulder.

“This marriage changes nothing,” she says. “I still hate you. I still want your empire in ashes. And the second this year is over, I will destroy everything you love.”

I slide my hands into my pockets, watching her like she’s already mine.

“You’re welcome to try, baby. But by the time this contract ends, you won’t want to leave.”

The door slams behind her.

Richard whistles low. “That woman is going to make your life hell.”

I stare at the closed door, already imagining her in my penthouse, in my sheets, wearing nothing but that ring and my marks.

“Good,” I say, voice rough. “Hell has never looked better.”

I pull out my phone and text my head of security.

"Move all of Sophia Laurent’s belongings to the master suite. Tonight. And install the new cameras in the living areas only. I want to know every move my wife makes."

My blood is on fire. For the first time in years, I feel truly alive.

Sophia Laurent thinks this is war.

She has no idea I’ve already decided she belongs to me.