Lila's sneakers skidded across the polished marble as the suited man dragged her deeper into Alexander Knight's penthouse.
Her pulse hammered, each beat a scream telling her to run.
The door clicked shut behind her, sealing her in with the devil himself.
The air was thick with the scent of leather and whiskey.
Beyond the massive windows, the city lights spilled sharp shadows across the room.
"Let me go!" she snapped, jerking her arm back.
The man's grip was a vice. Her cheap waitress uniform clung to her like a costume, mocking her helplessness.
Fury blazed through her humiliation, setting her veins alight. "I'm not some thing you can buy!"
He let go abruptly. She stumbled, catching herself on a sleek black couch.
Alexander stood at the bar, his back to her, pouring another drink.
His silence was worse than a shout. It was pure control—absolute and unshakable.
He turned slowly, gray eyes glinting like steel under the dim lights. That faint, dangerous smile curved his lips again.
Lila's stomach twisted.
"Leave us," he said, his voice low, commanding.
The door opened and closed.
They were alone.
Lila's breath hitched. She straightened, fists clenched, refusing to cower. He doesn't own me.
"You can't do this," she spat, her voice trembling with rage. "I don't care how much money you have. I'm not your property!"
The absurdity almost made her laugh. She couldn't even afford rent, yet apparently she was worth ten million dollars to a stranger.
Alexander tilted his head, studying her like a puzzle he'd already solved.
He set his glass down with deliberate care, the clink echoing through the silence.
"You're wrong, Lila," he said, her name rolling off his tongue like a caress and a threat. "Ten million dollars says you're mine."
Her blood turned to ice.
The way he said it—so calm, so certain—made her feel like prey.
She took a step back, sneakers squeaking against marble, eyes darting for an escape.
The elevator was too far. The suite was a gilded cage.
"You're sick," she hissed. "You think you can just buy people? I'll scream. I'll fight. I'll—"
"You'll what?"
He moved closer, each step deliberate, his polished shoes soundless on the floor.
He was tall, towering over her, his presence suffocating.
"Run? Where to? Back to your little life, scraping by, serving champagne to people like me?"
His voice was velvet over steel, cutting deep. "You're here because I chose you."
Lila's chest rose and fell, her anger warring with a spark of fear.
She hated how her body reacted—her skin prickling, her pulse racing.
"I don't care who you are," she said, low and fierce. "I'm not your toy."
His eyes darkened, a storm gathering behind them.
"Toy?" he murmured, stepping closer still. "You're much more than that."
His gaze swept over her, slow and deliberate, stripping away her defenses.
"I don't buy toys, Lila. I acquire what I want. And I always get what I want."
Her back hit the wall.
She hadn't even realized she was retreating.
Now there was nowhere to go.
Her palms pressed to the cold surface, her heart a wild drumbeat.
"Stay away from me," she warned, but her voice wavered, betraying her.
Alexander stopped inches from her, close enough that heat rolled off his body.
His scent—crisp cologne and something darker—wrapped around her, intoxicating and dangerous.
He braced one hand on the wall beside her head, caging her in.
His other hand lifted, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
The touch was feather-light, but it burned like fire.
"You're shaking," he said softly, his voice a low growl that sent shivers through her. "Is it fear… or something else?"
Lila's breath caught.
She wanted to slap him, to scream, to shove him away.
But her body betrayed her, frozen under his gaze.
His eyes held hers, unrelenting, as if he could see every secret she'd ever buried.
Her lips parted, a protest dying on her tongue as his fingers trailed down her jaw, slow and possessive.
"You don't know me," she whispered, hating how weak she sounded. "You don't get to do this."
"Oh, Lila," he murmured, leaning closer, his breath warm against her ear. "I know everything I need to. And you?"
His lips brushed her skin, a whisper of a touch that set her nerves alight.
"You're mine now."
His eyes flickered, something dark and familiar in them.
"You really don't remember me, do you?"
Her heart stopped as he pressed himself closer, pinning her to the wall with the weight of his body.
His hand slid to her waist, firm and unyielding, as his lips hovered over hers—a promise and a threat.
The world narrowed to the heat of him, the storm in his eyes, and the terrifying pull of something she couldn't name.
What happens if I give in?