Chapter 14: The Chains you cannot see
740 Words
The silence in the penthouse was deafening. Alina’s mind raced, trapped in the echo of Viktor’s words.
"You were always meant to be here."
The certainty in his voice sent a chill down her spine. He spoke as if her fate had been decided long before she even knew his name. As if the life she had been living before was merely borrowed time—time he had allowed her to have.
Her stomach tightened. She had to get out of here.
Slowly, she pushed herself off the couch, standing on unsteady legs. Viktor’s sharp gaze flicked to her, amusement dancing in his emerald eyes. He didn’t stop her as she walked past him, nor when she reached the glass doors leading to the balcony.
The night air was crisp against her skin as she stepped outside. The city stretched beneath her, endless and alive, a stark contrast to the gilded cage she was trapped in.
She gripped the railing, her breath fogging in the cold. If she screamed, would anyone hear? Would anyone help?
"No one would dare."
The realization settled deep in her bones. Viktor was untouchable. This was his world, and she was merely a piece of it—a possession he had claimed long before she had ever met him.
A shiver ran down her spine as she felt him step onto the balcony behind her. He didn’t touch her, but his presence was like a shadow creeping over her skin.
“You think about running,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement. “I can see it in your eyes.”
Alina swallowed hard, refusing to turn around. “What if I did?”
He exhaled a slow chuckle. “Then I’d find you.”
The certainty in his voice made her stomach twist. There was no doubt in his words, no hesitation. He meant it.
Finally, she turned to face him. “You can’t keep me locked up forever.”
Viktor leaned against the railing, completely at ease. “Who said anything about locks, printsessa?” He gestured toward the open door behind her. “You’re free to leave anytime you want.”
Alina narrowed her eyes. “And if I walk out that door?”
His smirk was slow, dark. “Try it.”
The challenge hung between them. Her heart pounded as she took a step toward the door, waiting for him to grab her, to stop her. But he didn’t move.
Her pulse raced. Was this a test? A mind game?
She reached the threshold, hesitating for only a second before stepping inside. One step. Two. Then she was in the hallway, staring at the main entrance.
She placed her hand on the doorknob, breath shallow. This was it. Her chance.
But her fingers wouldn’t turn the handle.
A sinking feeling settled in her chest as she realized—Viktor didn’t need locks to keep her.
He had already trapped her in a far more powerful way.
Her fear.
Her hesitation.
Her heart.
A lump formed in her throat as she stared at the door. Why couldn’t she open it? What was stopping her?
"Because he’s right."
No one would dare help her. No one would risk crossing Viktor Malikov.
A sound behind her made her breath hitch. His steps—measured, unhurried—echoed in the quiet space.
“You’re not leaving,” Viktor said, voice calm, but there was a thrill beneath it.
Alina turned slowly to face him, pressing her back against the door.
“You’re mine, Alina,” he said, stepping closer. “You’ve always been mine.”
Her heart pounded violently as he reached her, placing a hand against the door beside her head. He wasn’t touching her, but the heat of him, the sheer dominance in his presence, made her legs weak.
“You want to run,” he murmured, tilting his head as he studied her. “But tell me, printsessa…where would you go?”
Alina’s breath shuddered.
She hated how right he was.
His fingers brushed her cheek, slow, deliberate. She flinched, but he only smirked.
“You think you have a choice,” he whispered, his voice a velvet caress. “You don’t.”
Her stomach tightened. He was enjoying this—watching her fight a battle she had already lost.
Because deep down, she knew the truth.
There was no escaping Viktor Malikov.
There never had been.
To be continued…
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- Writer
