I wanna know what you feeling about this book right now. I am so desperate to finish it but at the same time, I don't wanna ruin it in rush.

And it's no where near the finishing line 💀

Enjoy !!

The dim basement room was suffocating. Its cold, sterile air pressed against August's chest as she stared blankly at the ceiling. No windows, no sunlight—just pale walls and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights. She hated this place. Hated the brothers who put her here. Hated herself for feeling so powerless.

The creak of the heavy door startled her. The nurse again, probably, she thought, her voice breaking the silence.

"I don't need anything. Please leave."

But the figure didn't move. The unsettling pause stretched long enough for her to glance toward the entrance—and there he stood.

Alexander.

Her heart plummeted. A rush of cold terror filled her chest, making it hard to breathe. Her body froze, paralyzed by the sight of him, his commanding silhouette framed against the doorway. Every inch of him oozed control, from his sharp jawline to the slight smirk curling his lips.

"Rose," he murmured, his voice dripping with a false tenderness that made her skin crawl.

She couldn't look away as he closed the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps. Her breaths came in short, panicked gasps. The raw fear etched across her face amused him, but he knelt beside her, his demeanor deceptively calm.

"Shh..." Alexander's hand reached for her hair, his fingers threading through the dark strands. His other hand rested lightly on her back. "Breathe for me, Rose. Slowly now."

The warmth of his touch should have been comforting, but it burned like acid. She fought to steady her breathing, to stop the trembling in her body. His presence was overwhelming, his control absolute.

When her breaths finally evened out, Alexander's smirk deepened.

"That's better," he said, his thumb brushing against her cheek.

August wanted to scream at him, wanted to spit in his face, but she knew better. Strength wouldn't save her here. She needed to be smart now, to bide her time.

"I'm fine," she said softly, keeping her gaze downcast. Meek. Vulnerable. Play the part.

Alexander's lips curved into a pleased smile. "Good girl," he murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Her stomach churned as his hand moved to her arm, his fingers skimming the cast that bound her fractured wrist. She gripped the sheet beneath her tightly, nails biting into her palms to suppress her disgust.

"Ian's temper gets the better of him sometimes," Alexander said, his tone almost casual. "I trust you won't provoke him again. I don't enjoy seeing you like this."

She nodded silently, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat.

"I know Ian didn't hurt you badly enough to take your voice," he continued, his voice laced with condescension. "How about you use that pretty little voice of yours? I've missed it, Rose."

Her lips parted hesitantly. "Y-yes... I understand."

Alexander's gaze sharpened. "Yes, what?"

"Y-yes, sir?"

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the air grew heavier. "No," he corrected firmly. "Say 'Xander.' You're only allowed to call me Xander."

A chill ran through her as she whispered, "Yes, Xander. I understand."

The sound of his name leaving her lips was enough to break his carefully maintained composure. A low, guttural groan escaped him.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath, his hand tightening around her hair. His dark eyes blazed with unbridled lust as he leaned closer.

"I regret letting Lucian go so far," he growled. "If you weren't wrapped in bandages, I'd be doing things to you that your dead boyfriend must have been dreaming of."

A single tear escaped August's eye, sliding down her cheek, but she refused to let him see her break.

As Alexander leaned closer, watching that single tear slip from her eye, he felt a sharp, unexpected twist in his chest. It wasn't guilt—no, guilt was foreign to him, an emotion reserved for the weak. What he felt was something far more insidious.

Jealousy.

The realization hit him like a blow. He was jealous. Of a dead man.

The thought clawed at his pride, taunting him with its absurdity. Noah, the lifeless shadow that still lingered in her heart, had managed to evoke something in her that Alexander couldn't extinguish.

How was it possible? Alexander Rivera, who commanded fear and loyalty with a mere glance, was haunted by a corpse. The idea that someone who no longer existed still had this power over her—still had her—was infuriating.

His jaw clenched as his eyes bore into hers, daring her to shed another tear for that man. His lips curled into a sneer, but beneath it, his chest burned with something he refused to name. He wanted to rip Noah's memory from her mind, erase every trace of him, and fill the void with himself.

You're mine now, Rose

he thought darkly.

And the sooner you accept that, the better it will be for both of us.

But as his hand brushed her cheek and she flinched, even subtly, the gnawing jealousy turned into something worse. A festering obsession.

One that whispered:

She will forget him. I'll make sure of it.

The taste of control should have been satisfying, yet her silence, her tears, her quiet defiance—it all left him hungry for more.

Alexander's voice softened, deceptively soothing. "I'm going to kiss you now, Rose. Don't fight me. Don't struggle. You wouldn't want Aiden to end up like this too, would you, darling?"

Her breath hitched, and she froze, the threat hanging heavy in the air.

"If you understand, say it."

"Yes... X-Xander," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Her heart raced so violently it felt as if it might burst. His words lingered in the air like a threat, dark and inevitable. August felt his gaze boring into her, stripping away any illusion of safety she tried to cling to.

His smirk deepened, satisfaction gleaming in his dark eyes. And then he was on her.

Alexander leaned in, his face so close she could feel his warm breath against her lips—minty, intoxicating, and invasive all at once. When his lips met hers, it wasn't the brutal claim she expected. Instead, it was slow, deliberate, and maddeningly gentle.

His mouth moved against hers, coaxing rather than taking. The softness was almost worse—it was a mockery of intimacy, a pretense of affection that made her stomach churn. His lips were warm, firm, and achingly skilled, moving with a precision that left no room for escape.

He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his hand threading through her hair as if to cradle her, but the grip was too tight to feel tender. His tongue teased the seam of her lips, and when she hesitated, he tightened his grip on her hair, pulling just enough to force a gasp from her. It was all he needed to slip inside, tasting her with an intimacy that made her body stiffen beneath him.

His tongue explored her slowly, languidly, as if savoring her like a rare delicacy. The wet heat of his mouth was overwhelming, drawing out involuntary shivers from her that she despised herself for. She forced herself to respond, mimicking his movements with a mechanical precision that made her feel hollow inside.

Alexander groaned against her lips, the sound low and primal, vibrating through her as his free hand skimmed down her arm. His touch was feather-light, tracing the bandages wrapped around her body with an almost reverent care.

"You taste even better than the last time I had tasted you," he murmured against her lips, his voice husky with desire.

She hated how his words made her stomach twist, a toxic cocktail of fear and revulsion that left her nauseous.

His lips left hers, only to trail a path along her jawline, his stubble grazing her skin and sending shivers racing down her spine. He paused just below her ear, his breath hot against her neck. "Say my name again, Rose" he commanded softly, his teeth grazing the delicate skin there.

"X-Xander," she stammered, her voice trembling as his mouth returned to hers, this time with more hunger.

"Fuckkkk" The kiss turned deeper, hungrier. His teeth caught her bottom lip, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. His hands roamed now, one trailing down to her breast while the other cupped her cheek, tilting her face to give him full access.

Her body protested every touch, every press of his lips, but she forced herself to remain pliant, submissive. Every flick of his tongue, every possessive groan he made was fuel for her hatred, a fire she kept buried deep beneath her trembling exterior.

As his hand brushed the hem of her hospital gown, her body tensed involuntarily. He paused, his dark eyes meeting hers, filled with something raw and dangerous.

"Relax, Rose," he whispered, his lips curling into a wicked smile. "You're doing so well."

His hand slid beneath the thin fabric, skimming over her bare thigh, his touch firm but not rough. She whimpered softly as he leaned his weight on her injured arm without realizing it. The sharp pain broke through the haze of her fear, and she let out a small cry.

Alexander froze.

"Damn it," he muttered, pulling back abruptly. His eyes, once clouded with lust, darkened with rage as he glanced at her bandaged arm. For a moment, August thought he might lash out, but instead, he stood and ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room like a caged animal.

"I shouldn't have let Ian hurt you this badly," he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and regret. His fists clenched at his sides as he turned back to her, his expression unreadable.

Then, without another word, he stormed out, the door slamming shut behind him.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Next chapter tomorrow ❤️

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