Bound by Contract, Owned by Hate

First Night in Hell

Chapter 5

(Sophia's POV)

The elevator doors slide open directly into hell.

Xander Voss’s penthouse spans the entire top three floors of the most exclusive building on Fifth Avenue. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls frame a glittering Manhattan skyline that looks close enough to touch. Marble floors, modern art worth more than my company’s annual revenue, and the faint scent of his cologne lingering everywhere like a warning.

This is my prison for the next year.

I clutch the handle of my single suitcase tighter, jaw locked so hard it aches. Lila offered to come with me, but I refused. This is something I need to face alone.

A uniformed housekeeper appears silently. “Mrs. Voss, welcome. Your things have already been placed in the master suite. Mr. Voss instructed that dinner will be served at nine.”

Mrs. Voss.

The title makes my stomach twist.

“I’m not staying for dinner,” I snap. “And don’t call me that.”

She bows politely and disappears, clearly used to difficult residents.

I wheel my suitcase down the wide hallway, heels clicking like gunshots. Every step feels like surrender. The master bedroom doors are double-height, black lacquered, imposing. I push them open.

The room is massive. A king bed dominates the center. Black silk sheets, too many pillows, clearly designed for sin. My clothes are already hanging in one half of the enormous walk-in closet. My skincare sits neatly on the marble vanity in the bathroom. Even my favorite silk robe is laid out on the chaise like I’ve already been claimed.

Rage boils up so fast I can barely see straight.

I storm back into the living area just as the elevator chimes again. Xander steps out, still in his tuxedo pants and white shirt, sleeves rolled up, looking like sin and victory wrapped in one devastating package.

“You moved my things without my permission?” I demand, voice shaking with fury.

He loosens his bow tie slowly, eyes never leaving mine. “Everything in this penthouse is mine, Sophia. Including you for the next three hundred and sixty-five days.”

“I am not your property.”

He walks toward me with that lazy, predatory stride. “The contract says otherwise. Same bed. Same roof. Same last name.” His gaze drops to the diamond weighing down my finger. “And that ring says the whole world knows it now.”

I back up until my spine hits the cold glass wall. The city lights sparkle behind me like indifferent stars. Xander doesn’t stop until he’s caging me in, one hand braced beside my head, the other tipping my chin up.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs. “Is it hate… or something else?”

“It’s disgust,” I lie.

His thumb brushes my lower lip, the same way it did after that kiss at the signing. “Liar. I can feel how fast your pulse is racing. You’ve wanted to ruin me for years, Sophia. Now you get to do it up close. Every night. In my bed.”

Memories flood me unbidden.

The courthouse steps. My father collapsing.

The fabric scandal headlines. My mother’s disappearance. The gunshot from my father’s study that still echoes in my nightmares.

This man’s family took everything from me.

And now I’m trapped in his world, wearing his ring, breathing his air.

I shove at his chest. Hard. He doesn’t budge.

“Touch me again without permission and I’ll make sure the next merger you lose is your ability to walk,” I hiss.

Xander’s eyes darken. A slow, dangerous smile curves his lips. “There she is. The fighter I remember. The girl who glared at me across every gala like she wanted to carve my heart out.”

He leans in until his mouth hovers just above mine. His breath is warm. His body radiates heat.

“I used to jerk off thinking about shutting that pretty mouth up,” he confesses, voice rough. “Now I get to do it legally.”

My core clenches traitorously. I hate myself for it.

“Get the hell away from me.”

“Make me.”

I slap him.

The sound cracks through the penthouse like a whip.

For a second, pure shock flashes across his face. Then something far more terrifying replaces it. Pure, feral hunger.

Xander grabs both my wrists and pins them above my head against the glass with one powerful hand. His body presses fully into mine, hard, hot, unyielding. I can feel exactly how much he wants me.

“You’re going to regret that, wife,” he growls.

His mouth claims mine in a brutal kiss. This isn’t the calculated one from earlier. This is raw. Angry. Teeth and tongue and fifteen years of war exploding between us.

I bite his lip hard enough to draw blood.

He groans into my mouth and kisses me harder, grinding his hips against me so I feel every thick inch of his arousal. My body arches against him before my brain can stop it.

When he finally pulls back, both of us are panting. A drop of blood sits on his lower lip. He looks wild. Unhinged. Like the ice-cold billionaire has finally cracked.

“Bedroom. Now,” he orders, voice guttural.

I laugh bitterly even as my thighs shake. “You think I’m going to f**k you tonight? After everything your family did to mine?”

His grip on my wrists tightens. “I think you’re soaked and furious and you’ve wanted this as long as I have. One year, Sophia. We can spend it hating each other… or we can spend it destroying each other in the best possible way.”

He releases me and steps back, chest heaving.

The choice hangs between us like a loaded gun.

I want to kill him.

I want to climb him.

I want to make him suffer the way I suffered.

Instead, I straighten my dress with shaking hands and walk toward the master bedroom, head high.

“Touch me tonight and I swear on my father’s grave I will break this contract and drag both our companies down with me.”

I slam the bedroom door behind me.

But I can still feel his eyes on me through the wood.

And worse… I can still taste his blood on my tongue.