The rest of the ride passed in silence, heavy and thick. Elena pressed her cheek against the glass, watching the city lights blur into golden streaks. Every word Alexander had said replayed in her head, each one louder than the last.
"You're already in it, Elena. Whether you like it or not."
She didn't know if she hated him more for saying it or for being right.
The car slowed, gliding into a quieter part of the city. Glass towers rose like giants, glittering against the night sky. When the driver stopped, Elena blinked at the massive building before them. A skyscraper of glass and steel, lit at the top like a crown.
She realized where they were. "Your penthouse?"
Alexander didn't answer, only stepped out of the car. He came around to open her door, extending his hand. His movements were effortless, but his gaze carried weight—as if he knew she was already halfway to bolting.
Inside, the lobby gleamed with marble floors and golden fixtures. The staff at the desk greeted Alexander with quiet bows, their eyes flicking curiously to Elena before slipping back into polite neutrality. Alexander didn't stop to explain. He led her straight into the private elevator, his presence steady, controlled.
Elena hugged her arms around herself. "Why here?"
His eyes didn't leave the mirrored elevator doors. "Because it's the only place I can keep you safe tonight."
"Safe from Vivian?" she pressed.
His jaw flexed. "From everyone."
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, revealing the penthouse. Elena stepped out, breath catching.
It was another world.
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the living room, revealing the city glittering beneath them like a sea of stars. The furniture was sleek and expensive, each piece placed with deliberate precision. The space felt vast, powerful, but also cold.
"This is your world," Elena murmured, half to herself.
"Part of it." He slipped off his jacket, laying it neatly on the armrest.
She turned to him, her voice sharper than she intended. "I don't belong here."
"You say that often," Alexander replied, eyes fixed on her. "But maybe you do. Maybe you belong here more than you think."
Her heart skipped. She hated how those words made her chest tighten. "Stop saying things like that. You don't even know me."
"Then let me."
The air shifted, thick between them. Elena opened her mouth to argue—but her phone buzzed in her bag, jolting her.
She pulled it out, frowning at the unknown number. Caution prickled her skin, but she answered. "Hello?"
"Elena?" a familiar voice said, low and urgent.
Her heart lurched. "Sophie?"
"Elena, thank God," her friend's voice spilled out. "You didn't come home, you didn't answer my texts, I thought something happened."
Relief washed through her so quickly it made her dizzy. "I'm fine, Soph. I… I just got caught up with something."
"You mean someone," Sophie shot back, suspicion clear in her tone. "Don't lie to me. Are you with him right now?"
Elena glanced at Alexander, who stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable but his attention unmistakably on her. She turned away quickly. "It's complicated," she whispered.
"Complicated how?" Sophie demanded. "First you disappear during your shift, then rumors start flying at the restaurant, and now you vanish into thin air? I don't like this."
Elena bit her lip, her throat tightening. She wanted to tell her friend nothing was wrong, but Vivian's venomous words still burned in her memory.
"I'll explain later," Elena said finally, her voice shaking. "I promise."
"You better," Sophie muttered. "And Elena? Don't lose yourself in someone else's world. You don't belong to him."
The line clicked dead.
Elena stared at the phone in her hand, Sophie's words echoing painfully. Don't lose yourself. Don't belong to him.
When she looked up, Alexander was still watching her. Not intrusively, but with that unnerving focus that made her feel like he could hear every word her friend had just spoken.
"Someone close to you," he said simply.
"Yes," she whispered. "One of the few people who actually cares about me."
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes, something almost vulnerable. Then it was gone, hidden behind his usual mask.
Elena had never been inside a place so beautiful, yet so unwelcoming.
The penthouse stretched wide around her, with ceilings so high they made her dizzy. Crystal lights glimmered above, and the city glittered endlessly through the towering windows. Every surface gleamed, cold and perfect like a museum she wasn't allowed to be in.
Alexander walked ahead, his stride purposeful, his presence filling the room as easily as the night air. He loosened his tie, slipped it onto a chair, and turned back toward her.
"You should eat," he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Eat? Elena blinked. After Vivian, after his revelations, after her own friend's warnings, food was the last thing on her mind. But her stomach growled anyway, betraying her.
Alexander pressed a button near the wall. Moments later, a quiet housekeeper arrived, setting down a tray of dishes before disappearing just as silently. Elena stared at the spread—steaming soup, grilled fish, delicate rolls—everything plated like art.
"I don't usually serve instant noodles here," Alexander said, almost teasing.
She shot him a look. "I don't need this."
"You need strength," he countered calmly. "And strength comes before answers."
Something about his tone—so matter-of-fact, yet strangely gentle—broke her resistance. She sat and picked at the food. It tasted better than anything she'd eaten in months, but she hated that it came from him.
Alexander sat across from her, not touching his own plate, watching her instead. Not like a predator, no. More like a man studying something fragile he didn't know how to hold.
Finally, Elena set her fork down. "You can't keep me here."
He leaned back in his chair. "Do you want to leave?"
The question startled her. Did she? Sophie's voice rang in her head: Don't lose yourself in someone else's world. But then she remembered Vivian's sneer, Adrian's name whispered like a curse. Outside felt dangerous.
"I don't belong here," she said instead.
"That's not what I asked."
His gaze locked with hers, steady, unshakable. Elena opened her mouth, then shut it again. She hated that she couldn't give him a clear answer.
"Get some rest," he said, his tone softer than before. "The suite is prepared."
She nodded, brushing past him toward the hall.
But as she reached the doorway, she paused. "Alexander."
"Yes?"
Her voice was unsteady, but her question was clear. "What do you really want from me?"
He held her gaze, the faintest crack in his control. "I want you near."
Elena's heart pounded, torn between fear and something dangerously close to hope.