Chapter 12
1292 Words
Her heart pounded.
She was caged between Nicholas and the cold concrete wall.
His scent—**dark, masculine, lethal—**wrapped around her, pulling her deeper into his gravity.
She should have pushed him away.
But instead, her fingers curled into his shirt, gripping the fabric like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
Nicholas’s thumb brushed her jaw.
Slow. Deliberate.
“Ask me,” he murmured, voice deep, edged with danger.
Elara swallowed. Shaken.
Her hands trembled, but she forced herself to meet his gaze.
“Who are you really, Nicholas?”
His eyes darkened.
For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer.
Then—
He did.
He had never told anyone the truth.
Never let anyone get close enough to know.
But Elara?
She wasn’t just anyone.
So he gave her what she wanted.
What she deserved.
“I’m not just the CEO of Wolfe Industries.” His voice was low, edged with steel.
“I run an empire. Both legal and illegal.”
Elara’s breath hitched.
Nicholas continued, watching her carefully.
“You’ve heard my name before. You just didn’t know it.”
Her lips parted, realization dawning. Oh, God.
Wolfe Industries wasn’t just a corporate empire.
It was a powerhouse. A network.
And Nicholas Wolfe?
He wasn’t just a billionaire.
He was the king of the underworld.
Elara felt the floor tilt beneath her.
Nicholas caught her wrist—firm, steady.
“You can still walk away.” His voice was gravel and fire.
Elara stared at him, her chest rising and falling too fast.
Because she knew.
He was lying.
There was no walking away from this.
No walking away from him.
And the worst part?
She wasn’t even sure she wanted to.
She should run.
God, she should.
Every instinct screamed at her to walk away—to escape before it was too late.
But as she stared into Nicholas’s eyes—**dark, unyielding, completely unreadable—**she knew the truth.
It was already too late.
Her fingers curled into a fist at her side.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“And what does that mean for me, Nicholas?”
His gaze flickered—a hint of something raw, something dangerous.
Then, in a slow, deliberate movement, he reached for her hand.
And placed it over his heart.
Elara inhaled sharply.
His heartbeat was steady. Solid.
Unshaken. Unstoppable.
“It means you’re mine.” His voice was low, absolute.
Elara’s breath hitched.
She should protest.
Should tell him he didn’t own her.
But the truth settled in her chest like a burning brand—
She wasn’t sure she wanted to be free of him.
And Nicholas?
He f*****g knew it.
He felt the way Elara’s pulse raced beneath his fingertips.
Felt the way her breath hitched at his words.
And still, she didn’t run.
Didn’t pull away.
Nicholas tilted his head, his thumb brushing over the pulse at her wrist.
“I won’t lie to you, Elara.” His voice was rough, edged with warning.
“I’m not a good man.”
Her lips parted.
He stepped closer.
“And I won’t let you go.”
Something flashed in her eyes—fear. Want. Defiance.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
Nicholas smirked. Dark. Dangerous. Possessive.
“Don’t I?”
Elara’s breath shuddered.
And f**k.
She didn’t realize she was already trapped.
Because Nicholas Wolfe never lost what was his.
And now?
She belonged to him.
Her pulse pounded.
Nicholas’s words—**dark, possessive, absolute—**wrapped around her like chains.
"It means you’re mine."
She should have pushed him away. Should have rejected the idea that he could claim her so easily.
But the truth?
Her body betrayed her.
A shiver ran through her, her fingers twitching at her sides—fighting the pull toward him.
No. She wouldn’t just let him decide this.
She lifted her chin, voice sharper than she felt inside.
"You don’t own me, Nicholas."
His smirk was slow. Dangerous.
"Don’t I?"
Elara’s breath hitched.
His gaze was unrelenting, dark with something more than desire—something deeper.
Control. Obsession.
And the terrifying part?
She liked it.
Damn him.
She squared her shoulders, forcing herself to ignore the heat between them.
"Then prove it," she challenged, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.
Nicholas stilled.
Then—a slow, dark chuckle.
"Careful what you ask for, sweetheart." His voice was like silk laced with steel.
Before she could react, he moved.
A hand braced against the wall beside her, his other curling under her chin—tilting her head up.
His thumb grazed her lower lip. Testing. Teasing.
"You want proof?" His voice was low, dark.
Elara swallowed hard.
Yes.
No.
She didn’t even know anymore.
Nicholas leaned in, his breath hot against her skin.
And then—
A sudden knock at the door.
"Boss. We have a problem."
Nicholas stilled, his eyes narrowing.
His jaw clenched, and just like that—the moment was gone.
Elara exhaled shakily, stepping back as he turned toward the door.
Luca stood there, arms crossed. His expression was tight, serious.
"Dimitri’s men are moving. Someone put a bounty on your head, boss."
Nicholas’s eyes turned to ice.
Elara’s stomach twisted.
This wasn’t over.
Not between them.
Not between who Nicholas was and the world he lived in.
Because now?
She wasn’t just tangled with Nicholas Wolfe.
She was tangled in his war.
A bounty. On his head.
Nicholas’s jaw tightened, his entire body going rigid as Luca’s words settled in the air.
Dimitri’s men were moving.
Which meant this wasn’t just business anymore.
It was a hunt.
And Nicholas Wolfe?
He was the prey.
Except—
He was no one’s f*****g prey.
He turned to Luca, voice ice-cold.
“Who put the bounty?”
Luca exhaled sharply. “We’re still tracking, but it’s high. Seven figures. International reach.” His gaze flickered toward Elara before returning to Nicholas. “You need to move. And you need to get her somewhere safe.”
Nicholas’s hands curled into fists.
Elara.
His eyes flicked toward her—still pressed against the wall, her breathing uneven.
She wasn’t ready for this.
Not yet.
And f**k, he wasn’t about to let her get caught in the crossfire.
“Luca.” His voice was low, edged with warning. “Get the jet ready.”
Luca nodded. “Where to?”
Nicholas didn’t hesitate.
“The Santorini estate.”
Elara stiffened. “Wait—what? You’re sending me away?”
Nicholas turned back to her, his expression hard. Unyielding.
“No. I’m keeping you alive.”
Elara shook her head. “I didn’t ask for protection.”
Nicholas stepped closer—crowding her, his energy dark and absolute.
“You don’t have to ask. You’re mine, Elara. And I protect what’s mine.”
Her breath hitched, her eyes searching his.
But there was no room for argument.
Not when the wolves were already circling.
Nicholas turned back to Luca.
“Wheels up in an hour.”
In Private Jet
She was furious.
Nicholas barely said two words to her after that.
He had just decided she was leaving—no room for discussion, no consideration for what she wanted.
She sat stiffly in the jet’s leather seat, arms crossed, watching him from across the cabin.
He looked calm. Too calm.
Which meant inside, he was seething. Calculating.
The storm was coming.
And Nicholas Wolfe was about to burn the world down.
She swallowed hard.
Maybe she should have fought harder.
Maybe she should have run when she had the chance.
But now?
Now, she was on a jet to one of Nicholas Wolfe’s most private estates.
And somehow, she knew—
This was only the beginning.
- Writer
