THE GOLDEN CAGE

Behind Closed Doors

The heavy double doors of the penthouse suite hadn't even fully clicked shut before Alexander’s hands were on her.

The cool, calculated composure he held during the press conference vanished the second they were out of the public eye. He backed Elena up against the dark mahogany entryway wall, his large frame completely trapping her. His breathing was heavy, his dark eyes burning with a raw, intense hunger that made Elena’s entire body flush with heat.

"Alexander—" she gasped, her hands resting flat against his crisp navy suit jacket.

"You were incredible out there," he murmured, his deep baritone rough and vibrating against her chest. He leaned down, his lips brushing over her jawline, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "The way you commanded that room... the way you looked at the cameras. You didn't just save the firm, Elena. You took it."

"We took it," Elena corrected, her fingers instinctively curling into the fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer. The adrenaline from the live broadcast was still rushing through her veins, blurring the lines of reality until nothing mattered but the man in front of her. "Richard is done. The board is ours."

"I don't care about the board right now," Alexander growled softly.

He reached up, his long fingers undoing the sharp buttons of her tailored suit jacket, his warm palms sliding underneath the fabric to grip her waist. The contact sent a violent jolt of electricity straight down her spine. He lifted her slightly, and Elena instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms locking behind his neck as he carried her deeper into the sunlit living room, never breaking the fierce, intoxicating connection of his mouth against hers.

He lowered her gently onto the massive leather sofa, hovering over her like a predator protecting its prize. The Manhattan skyline stretched out behind them through the floor-to-ceiling glass, but for the first time in his life, Alexander Knight wasn't looking at the city he owned. He was looking entirely at her.

"This isn't a contract anymore, Elena," Alexander whispered, his thumb gently wiping a smear of lipstick from her lower lip, his gaze locked onto her eyes with terrifying honesty. "If we do this, there is no expiration date. I'm not letting you go after twelve months."

Elena looked up at the billionaire who had dismantled empires just to keep her safe, feeling the last remaining walls around her heart completely crumble.

"I don't want to leave, Alexander," she whispered back.

A dark, possessive satisfaction flared in his eyes. He leaned down to claim her lips again, but before their mouths could meet, a sharp, repetitive chiming echoed through the quiet penthouse.

It wasn't a phone this time. It was the secure video intercom by the private elevator.

Alexander let out a low, frustrated curse, his forehead resting against hers for a brief second as he fought for control. He slowly sat up, smoothing down his shirt, before walking over to the wall monitor.

Elena sat up, adjusting her jacket, her heart still hammering against her ribs. "Who is it at this hour?"

Alexander stared at the video feed, his features instantly freezing into a mask of absolute, unreadable ice. He turned back to Elena, the warmth in his eyes completely replaced by a sudden, chilling gravity.

"It’s my grandfather’s estate lawyer," Alexander said, his voice dropping into a tense whisper. "He isn't here about the board. He has the original, unedited copy of the will... and he says someone just filed an official fraud injunction against our marriage license."