Thursday. 7 p.m.Ella had survived another day. Barely.
The office was quiet now—emptied of life except for security and the cleaning crew.She packed her bag, shoulders heavy, and headed for the elevator.
The doors slid open. She stepped inside.
"Hold it."
Of course.His voice.
Alexander slipped in just before the doors closed. Too close in the small space.
"Working late?" he asked casually.
"Finishing the Chen contract revisions."
"Good." He pressed the button for the lobby. "I'll drive you home."
"That's not necessary—"
"We've had this discussion." His eyes met hers in the mirrored wall. "Your safety is my concern."
The elevator started its smooth descent. Quiet. Controlled.Until it wasn't.
It stopped.Dead still.
The lights flickered, dimmed, then shifted to red emergency glow.
"What—" Ella began.
Alexander was already pressing buttons. Nothing.He checked his phone. No signal.
"We're stuck," he said calmly.
"What?" Panic flared in her chest. "For how long?"
"Security will notice soon. They'll fix it." He loosened his tie slightly. "We wait."
The elevator wasn't big—six feet square, maybe. With him inside, the walls felt closer.The air thicker.
"Maybe the emergency call button—" she reached for it.
Static. Then a voice crackled through:
"Security here. We're aware of the malfunction. Technician is on the way. Estimated fifteen to twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes.Trapped.With him.
"Relax," Alexander murmured. "We're perfectly safe."
"I know that."
"Then why are you breathing so fast?" His tone was almost teasing. "Scared?"
"Of what? Being stuck?"
"Of me." He stepped closer. "We're alone. No cameras during maintenance mode."
Ella's back hit the cold metal wall. "Alexander—"
"You've been avoiding me." His hand braced the wall beside her head. "Barely looking at me. Barely speaking."
"I've been working—"
"You've been running." His other arm rose, boxing her in. "From this. From us."
"There is no us—"
"Liar." His face hovered inches from hers. "Your heart's racing. Your pupils are dilated. Your lips—" his voice deepened—"parted."
"I—It's fear—"
"Is it?" He leaned closer, breath warm against her skin. "Fear… or desire?"
"Stop—"
"Stop what? Telling the truth?" His fingers touched her chin, lifting gently. "You want me. You hate that you do. But you still want me."
"You're delusional—"
"Am I?" His thumb traced her lower lip, slow. "Then why are you trembling?"
Ella jerked away. "Don't touch me."
"No?" His smile turned dark. "You're mine, Ella. I can touch you whenever I want."
"No, you can't—"
His lips crashed onto hers.Hard. Demanding. Possessive.
She pushed at his chest, but he didn't move.The kiss was brutal. Claiming. His hand tangled in her hair, holding her in place.
She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were wild."See?" he whispered. "Mine."
Ella's hand moved before thought caught up.
The slap echoed sharply in the steel box.
Silence.
Alexander's head had turned from the blow. Slowly, he looked back.His cheek was red. His eyes—dangerous.
"You hit me," he said quietly.
"You forced yourself on me!" Her voice shook—anger, fear, something deeper.
"Forced?" He gave a dark, humorless laugh. "Is that what you're calling it?"
"What else would I call it? You kissed me without permission!"
"Without permission," he echoed, stepping closer. "Everything between us is without permission. That's the point."
"The point of what?"
"Breaking you down." His hand shot out, catching her wrist. Pinned it to the wall. "Every wall. Every defense. Until there's nothing left but truth."
"Let go—"
"No." His other hand joined the first, trapping both wrists. "You need to learn something, Ella."
Her breath trembled. "What?"
"When you disobey me…" His voice dropped lower. "When you deny me…" His body pressed against hers. "When you run—"
"What?" she whispered.
His smile was chilling. Beautiful. Terrifying."You pay."
The elevator jolted, then started moving again.
Alexander released her immediately. Stepped back. Adjusted his tie like nothing happened.
The doors opened.
Lobby.Security guard waiting, concern etched across his face.
"Mr. Blackwood! Miss Montgomery! Are you two alright?"
"Fine," Alexander said smoothly. "Just a brief delay."His gaze flicked to Ella. "Miss Montgomery was perfectly behaved."
The words were soft—and mocking.
Ella stepped out on shaking legs. Her wrists throbbed where he'd pinned her.Her lips still burned from the kiss.
She headed toward the exit.
"Ella." His voice stopped her. "My car's this way."
"I'm taking a cab—"
"No. You're not." He was beside her again, his hand pressing to the small of her back. Possessive. "We're not done talking."
"I'm done—"
"I'm not." His tone hardened. "Car. Now."
The parking garage was empty. Their footsteps echoed through concrete silence.
Ella's pulse hammered. Every sound seemed too loud.
At his car, he opened her door and waited."Get in," he ordered. "Or I'll put you in myself."
"You're insane—"
"Probably." His smirk flickered. "Get. In."
Too tired to fight, she obeyed.He closed the door gently, then circled to the driver's side.
He didn't start the engine.
Silence stretched. Heavy. Electric.
"You slapped me," he said at last.
"You deserved it."
"Did I?" He turned to her. "You think that kiss was about desire? About wanting you?"
Her glare didn't waver. "What else would it be?"
"Control." His hand shot out, catching her chin, forcing her gaze up. "I needed to know something."
"What?"
"If you'd submit." His thumb brushed her jawline. "You didn't. You fought back. You hit me."A faint smile tugged at his mouth. "Good."
Ella blinked. "Good?"
"I don't want a puppet." His tone softened slightly. "I want you. Fire and all." He released her. "But you still need to learn."
"Learn what?"
"Boundaries." He started the car, the engine purring to life. "My boundaries. What I'll allow. What I won't."
"This isn't about what you allow—"
"Everything is about what I allow." His eyes stayed forward. "You work for me. You belong to me. You're mine."
"I'm not—"
"Yes," he interrupted, quiet but firm. "You are. The sooner you accept that, the easier it becomes."
"And if I never accept it?"
He smiled then—cold, beautiful, and merciless."Then we keep fighting. Keep pushing. Until one of us breaks."He looked at her. "Spoiler alert—it won't be me."
The drive home was silent.
When they arrived, he walked her to her door.Like a gentleman.Like he hadn't just cornered her in an elevator.
"Inside," he said softly. "Lock the door."
"Stop telling me what to do—"
He moved suddenly, pinning her against the door. His body pressed against hers.
"I'll stop," he whispered, "when you stop making me want to."
"That doesn't make sense—"
"None of this makes sense." His forehead rested against hers. "I shouldn't want you this much. Shouldn't need you. But I do." His hand cupped her face. "And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you."
"Even hurt me?" she breathed.
"I would never hurt you." His voice was low, steady. "Scare you? Yes. Push you? Absolutely. Control you? Without question." His thumb brushed her lips. "But hurt you? Never."
"What's the difference?"
"The difference," he murmured, "is I know your breaking point."He smiled faintly. "And I'll always stop just before it."
He stepped back. Straightened his jacket."Inside. Now."
Ella opened the door. Stepped in. Turned to close it—
He caught it, holding it half-open.
"Tomorrow," he said, eyes flicking over her neck. "Wear the gray dress. The one with the high collar."
"Why?"
"Because I said so." His smile curved, dark and knowing. "And because your neck has fingerprints on it. From where I held you."
Ella's hand flew to her throat.She felt nothing. But the look in his eyes told her the truth.
"You marked me," she whispered.
"Yes." No apology. No hesitation. "And I'll do it again. Every time you forget who you belong to."
He released the door and walked away.
"Alexander," she called.
He stopped. Turned.
"This can't continue," she said quietly. "This obsession. This control. It's not healthy."
"I know." His smile turned almost tender. "But I can't stop. And neither can you."
He disappeared into the darkness.
Ella closed the door. Locked it. Leaned back against it, shaking.
She stumbled to the bathroom mirror.
Faint red marks on her neck. His fingerprints.Proof. Evidence.She touched them. They didn't hurt. But they existed.
He had claimed her.
Her phone buzzed.
Sleep well, sweetheart. Tomorrow, we discuss your punishment for that slap. —A
Her blood ran cold. Punishment.
Another text followed.
P.S. I loved that you hit me. Shows spirit. But actions have consequences. Always. See you at 8 a.m. Don't be late.
Her breath trembled.
One last message.
P.P.S. Wear the gray dress. Or I'll pick your outfit myself. From your bedroom. While you're sleeping.I have your address. I have keys to everything. Remember that.
Her fingers went numb.Keys to everything.
Including her.