Chapter 32
The afternoon sun cast long shadows. I stood before the mirror, adjusting my emerald dress. It clung to my curves. The rich color shimmered. I felt a surge of confidence.
This was rare after days of Alexander's control. The dress was a statement. It was a reclaiming of myself.
He mentioned the party days ago. His voice was casual. "A formal event," he said. "Business, some family. Be ready." He turned to me. "You're coming tonight. I expect you there." I nodded. I was eager for a night out. It was a chance to breathe.
Now, I slipped into black heels. I swiped on red lipstick. I felt excitement and nerves. This was my first outing with him. I wanted to shine.
I turned as he entered. My heart stopped. Alexander looked elegant. His black suit fit him well. His white shirt was unbuttoned. It showed tanned skin.
His dark hair was swept back. He had stubble on his jaw. He looked amazing. His gray eyes landed on me. They darkened. His jaw clenched tight.
"What are you wearing?" he demanded. His voice was a sharp growl. It cut through the room. Fury laced his words. My stomach dropped. I froze. My hands were mid-adjustment.
I blinked, surprised. My mind raced. "It's a dress," I said. My voice faltered. I gestured to the gown. "For the party. The one you insisted I attend?"
He stepped closer. His boots thudded on the floor. Each step was a warning. He looked at me. His gaze was intense. It pinned me. His eyes were dark. "It's too much," he snapped. His tone was cold. "Too tight. Too bold. Change it. Now."
Defiance flared in my chest. It was hot and sharp. I squared my shoulders. His dismissal stung. "It's not revealing," I shot back. My voice became steady. I smoothed the fabric. "It's fitted, elegant. I like it, Alexander. It's not your business."
His eyes blazed. A storm began. He moved closer. His presence was strong. His breath was a hiss. His jaw clenched tight. "I don't care what you like," he snarled.
His voice dropped. Each word was an order. "I told you to change. Don't test me, Elena. You didn't listen before. Look what happened. Do it, or I'll rip it off."
The threat hung heavy. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. My heart pounded. Anger and fear coursed through me. But I refused to back down. "You wouldn't dare," I said.
My voice was low but firm. My chin lifted. "You don't dictate my clothes. I'm not your property, Alexander."
His hand shot out. He gripped my wrist. His fingers were like iron. He pulled me closer. "You're right," he said.
His voice was a menacing growl. "You're not my property. But you are under my protection. That means you follow my rules. My rule is, change now. Or I will do it."
I yanked my wrist free. I stepped back. My anger boiled. "Your protection?" I spat. My voice rose. "Is this what you call it? Controlling everything I do? Telling me what to wear, where to go, who to talk to? That's not protection, Alexander. That's a prison."
His face darkened. His eyes narrowed. He took another step. His voice dropped to a deadly calm. "You think this is a prison? You think I like babysitting you? Because you can't grasp the danger you're in? Fine. Wear the dress. But don't cry to me later. Not when someone sees you as an easy target."
His words hit me hard. I flinched. The fight left me. But then I straightened. My resolve hardened. "I'm not a child," I said. My voice was quieter. "And I'm not helpless. I can care for myself."
He gave a bitter laugh. It was harsh. "Can you?" he said. "All I see is someone stubborn. Someone who won't admit they're in too deep. You think you're ready for the world? Prove it. Don't expect me to watch you fall apart. Not because you're too proud to listen."
I opened my mouth. He cut me off. His patience was thin. "Enough," he said. His voice was final. "Change the dress. Or I'll do it. Your choice."
We stood there. A silent battle of wills. The air crackled. Finally, I turned. I stormed to the door. I didn't say a word.
But at the threshold, I paused. I looked back at him. "You know," I said. My voice was cold. "You claim to care about my safety. You show it in a strange way."
His face didn't change. I saw something flicker in his eyes. Anger, frustration, maybe guilt. But he didn't answer. I didn't wait.
Tears stung my eyes. A mix of hurt and anger. I spun. I stormed into the bedroom. The door slammed. It echoed my frustration.
I didn't get it. Why did he turn this into a fight? The dress was classy, not wild. His reaction made me feel small. It made me feel like a child.
Swallowing my pride, I took it off. The emerald fabric lay on the floor. It was a discarded dream.
I slipped into a simple black dress. It was knee-length. It had a high neckline and long sleeves. It was nice, understated. But it wasn't me. Not tonight.
The drive to the party was a silent war. The car's hum was low. Tension hung heavy. Alexander gripped the wheel. His knuckles were white. His jaw was stone.
The memory of my defiance was there. His threats. Sophia was with a sitter. Just us two. Disappointment gnawed at me. His harsh words bruised me.
The venue was huge. The ballroom glowed. Chandeliers dripped light. The air smelled of champagne and wealth. I smiled. We mingled.
Alexander's charm was a mask. He worked the room. He was attentive. He pulled me into talks. His hand at my back felt possessive. For a moment, I relaxed. The sting of our fight lessened.
That ease broke. I was surrounded. His business partners. Older men in suits. Their smiles were easy.
They asked about Sophia. My life before Sterling. I laughed at their jokes. I felt a spark of belonging. My confidence returned. Then a chill hit my neck. A shadow fell.
I turned. Alexander was there. He loomed behind me. His face was dark with fury. His gray eyes blazed. He looked at the men. He looked at me.
For a moment, I thought he'd speak. Or do something. Right there. In the ballroom. But he just stood. His presence was a silent storm. His jaw clenched tight.
I excused myself. My cheeks burned. I followed him. Out of the ballroom. My heels clicked. The sound was sharp. Murmurs trailed us. He didn't speak. He didn't look at me. We went to the car. The night air was cold.
He yanked the car door open. His moves were sharp. His rage was clear. I slid inside. My heart pounded. He followed. He slammed the door. The car shook. The silence was loud. The air was thick. He turned to me. His eyes blazed.
"What were you thinking?" he snapped. His voice was low. It dripped with fury. His jaw was clenched. His hands gripped the wheel.
I blinked. My temper flared. I crossed my arms. Defiance sparked. "What are you talking about?" I shot back. My voice trembled. I met his glare.
"Flirting with those men," he snarled. His tone rose. A whipcrack of fury. He turned to me. His eyes blazed. "Smiling, laughing. Do you know how that looks? You think you can prance around under my nose?"
I shook my head. My voice steadied. Anger drowned my nerves. "I wasn't flirting!" I snapped. I leaned forward. My hands balled into fists. "I was talking. Having a conversation. Something you've barely done all night. You don't control my every move, Alexander!"
His eyes narrowed. A storm of rage ignited. He surged closer. His hand clamped my wrist. His grip was iron. His voice dropped. A dangerous growl. It vibrated through me. "You belong to me, Elena," he said.
His words were a fierce claim. His breath was hot. "I told you to change. You didn't listen. I told you to stay in line. You flaunt yourself. I won't stand for it. Not your defiance. Not other men eyeing what's mine. You push me. I'll break your will. Until you understand."
I yanked my wrist free. My chest heaved. I glared at him. My voice shook. Anger and frustration mixed. "I'm not a possession, Alexander! I'm not something you control. I have my own mind. If you can't handle that, then maybe you need to change."
His face darkened. His eyes flashed. He leaned closer. His voice was a menacing whisper. "Careful, Elena," he said. His tone was icy. "You're on thin ice. If you keep pushing, you won't like what happens."
I held his gaze. My heart pounded. But I wouldn't back down. "Then do your worst," I said. My voice was steady. Fear coiled in my stomach. "Don't expect me to bow down. Not just because you say so."
We stared at each other. The tension was thick. It felt suffocating. Finally, he leaned back. His face was unreadable. But the storm in his eyes raged.
"You think you're strong enough to defy me?" he said. His voice was quiet. It held a promise. A shiver went down my spine. "Fine. Let's see. But remember this, Elena. When you fall, I'll pick you up. Then, you'll have to admit I was right."
I clenched my fists. My nails dug into my palms. I fought to keep my voice steady. "I'll never admit that," I said. My voice was low but firm. "Because you're not right. You're just controlling."
He smirked. A cold, humorless curve of his lips. My stomach twisted. "We'll see," he said. His tone was final. "We'll see."