Elena woke to silence.
The kind of silence that pressed against her ears and made her heart race. She sat up slowly, blinking against the pale morning light flooding through the wall of windows. For a moment, she forgot where she was. The sheets beneath her weren't the rough cotton of her small apartment bed, but smooth silk. The air smelled faintly of leather and cedarwood.
Then it hit her.
Alexander's penthouse.
Her chest tightened. She rubbed her eyes, half expecting to wake up and find it all a dream. But when she opened them again, the skyline of the city stretched endlessly before her, glittering under the morning sun.
She swung her legs off the bed, her toes sinking into the plush carpet. The room was larger than her entire apartment. Everything was gleaming—polished wood, glass, and steel. Beautiful, yes. But cold. Impersonal.
Like a cage made of glass.
She found Alexander in the kitchen. Or what she assumed was the kitchen, it looked more like something out of a magazine than a place where actual food was made. Marble counters stretched endlessly, lined with appliances she couldn't name.
And there he was, sleeves rolled up, pouring coffee like he wasn't the richest man in the city.
"You're awake," he said simply, glancing at her before setting the cup down.
Elena hovered in the doorway, suddenly unsure of herself. "I… didn't know billionaires made their own coffee."
One corner of his mouth twitched. "Sometimes."
She stepped inside, rubbing her arms against the chill in the air. "This place is… overwhelming."
"You'll get used to it."
"I don't want to get used to it," she blurted, then winced at her own honesty.
He looked at her, his gaze steady but not unkind. "Because you're afraid it means you're staying."
Her breath caught. She hated that he could read her so easily. "Because I shouldn't be staying."
Alexander said nothing for a long moment, only sipped his coffee. The silence stretched until Elena felt her frustration bubble again.
"Why me, Alexander?" Her voice shook despite her effort to steady it. "Out of everyone, why pull me into this?"
He set his cup down, walking closer until he stood just a few feet away. His presence filled the space, commanding yet quiet. "Because you don't belong to their world. And that makes you dangerous to them."
Her pulse quickened. "I don't want to be dangerous. I just want my life back."
"You can't go back," he said softly. "Not after Vivian. Not after Adrian. They won't let you."
His words pressed against her, heavy and final.
Before she could respond, her phone buzzed on the counter. She grabbed it like a lifeline. Sophie's name lit the screen.
Elena stepped away quickly, answering. "Hey, Soph."
"Don't hey me," Sophie snapped. "Where are you? I checked your apartment again, it was empty. Checked the café and you're off the schedule. Are you seriously hiding with him?"
Elena's throat tightened. "It's not like that. It's… complicated."
"It always is with men like him," Sophie said bitterly. "Listen to me, Elena. Don't get comfortable. Don't let him make you feel like you belong in that place. Because you don't."
Elena's eyes flicked to Alexander, who stood quietly by the counter, his gaze unreadable. He wasn't trying to listen, but somehow, she felt he already knew every word.
"I'll explain later," Elena whispered. "I promise."
Sophie's voice softened, worry breaking through the anger. "Just… be careful, okay?"
When the call ended, Elena lowered the phone, her chest tight.
Alexander finally spoke. "Your friend cares for you."
"She doesn't trust you," Elena said, sharper than she intended.
His gaze softened for the briefest moment. "Then she's wiser than most."
Her breath caught.