The black armored sedan pulled up to the Volkov estate, a fortress against the rest of the world. The moment Lex stepped out, his eyes found Anya, who was standing at the top of the steps, a look of fear and relief on her face. He didn't say a word. He just walked toward her, his face a mask of cold fury that softened only when he reached her. He didn't wait for her to speak. He pulled her into his arms, his embrace a tight, possessive hold that told her everything was going to be okay.
"I'm here," he said, his voice a low, rough murmur against her hair. "You're safe. I'm so sorry, Anya. I shouldn't have left you alone. I underestimated her."
Anya clung to him, the fear she had been holding back finally escaping in a choked sob. "She said so many things. She said I don't belong here. She said I was just a game to you. That you would always choose your secrets over me."
Lex pulled back, his hands cupping her face, his eyes filled with a rare, raw emotion. "She's a liar. Every word she said was a lie. You are not a game. You are my world. And I will choose you, always."
He picked her up, her feet leaving the ground, and carried her inside, through the grand halls of the estate, to his private chambers. He didn't put her down until they were in the middle of his room. He looked at her, his eyes filled with a desperate need to show her the truth of his feelings. He gently kissed her forehead, then her eyelids, then the tip of her nose. He moved to her lips, and his kiss was a storm of raw passion, a silent promise that he would protect her from all of her fears. He deepened the kiss, his tongue a slow, deliberate dance with hers, a silent conversation that said he was hers and she was his.
Anya's arms wrapped around his neck, her body melting into his. She had never felt so safe, so cherished. Lex lowered her onto his king-sized bed, his body following hers. He was a man of immense power and strength, but with her, he was gentle, his touch a silent question. She answered by pulling him closer, her hands exploring the hard muscles of his back. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, his lips a trail of fire that sent shivers down her spine. He slowly unzipped her dress, his fingers a slow, delicate dance with the fabric, before pushing it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.
Anya, in her turn, unbuttoned his shirt, her hands trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, to feel his warmth, to feel his heart beating against her own. When their clothes were gone, their bodies met in a symphony of raw, unbridled passion. He moved slowly at first, his touch a gentle reassurance, his lips on hers, his body a shield against her fears. He wanted her to feel safe, to feel loved. But as her body responded to his, as her hands ran through his hair, as her soft gasps of pleasure filled the room, the passion became a storm. He moved faster, deeper, his body a rhythm of raw, animalistic pleasure that was a testament to his love for her. Anya met him with a wild passion of her own, her body a symphony of pleasure. She was not just a girl who was scared; she was a woman who was in love, and she was going to show him her love in every way she could. Their bodies moved together as one, a dance of power and surrender, of giving and taking. Their lovemaking was a silent language, a beautiful song that told them they were meant to be together.
He was a force of nature, but with her, he was a man who needed her. And she, a woman who had been afraid, was now a woman who was in love. She was no longer just a victim. She was his. And he, a man who had never belonged to anyone, was hers.
Chapter 32: The Morning After
The morning sun cast a warm glow on the bed, a stark contrast to the darkness of the night before. Anya woke up in Lex's arms, the scent of his skin a comforting presence. She felt safe, cherished, and loved. She was no longer scared. She was a woman in love, a woman who was ready to face the world.
She looked at him, his face a peaceful mask in sleep. He was her fortress, her world. She gently kissed his forehead, and his eyes opened, a slow, sleepy smile spreading on his face. He kissed her back, his lips a gentle, reassuring touch. They got up, showered, and got dressed, a silent understanding passing between them. They were ready.
Downstairs, the Volkov family was already at the breakfast table. The long, ornate table was a symbol of their power and wealth. Lex and Anya walked in, hand in hand, a silent sign of their unity. Grandmother Volkov looked at them, a small, approving smile on her face.
"Anya, my dear," she said, her voice a calm murmur. "Come, sit."
A woman with a thin, sharp face, Lex's aunt, smiled a little too sweetly at Anya. "Anya, dear. What a lovely dress. Where did you get it? We were just talking about how much Lex loves to surprise us with his new toys."
Anya felt a surge of anger, but she kept her composure. "It's a gift from my love," she replied, her voice firm. "And I'm not a toy. I'm the woman who loves him. Just like he loves me."
The aunt's smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered. "Oh, how quaint. A new love. I'm sure it will last a very long time."
Before she could continue, Grandmother Volkov slammed her fork on the table. "Lillian," she said, her voice a low command. "We do not speak about love at the breakfast table. We eat. Do not forget your manners." The aunt's face went white, and she shut up.
A young woman with a kind, sweet face smiled at Anya. She was the same age as Anya and had her eyes fixed on her. "I'm Lex's sister, Anastasia. It's so good to finally meet you. Lex has been talking about you. I'm so happy to have you as a sister. Please, tell me about yourself. I would love to hear everything about you."
Next to her, a young man with a face that was a lot like Lex's, but with a jealous glint in his eyes, looked at Anya. He was Lex's cousin, a year younger. He didn't say a word, but his eyes were a silent message of animosity. He saw Anya as a threat to his power, to his place in the family.
After breakfast, Lex and Anya left the estate. He was taking her to her mother's company, a place she had not been since her mother passed away. Lex was a silent, calming presence. He held her hand, his thumb a gentle, reassuring presence. They walked into the grand office building, a symbol of her mother's life's work.
Anya was met by the board of directors, a group of old men who looked at her with a mix of contempt and curiosity. They had been loyal to her stepfather, and they saw her as an outsider.
"Mr. Chen's daughter, I presume," one of them said, his voice a low growl. "You're a little young to be taking over a company of this size, aren't you?"
Anya looked at them, her eyes filled with a new kind of fire. "My mother built this company from the ground up," she said, her voice firm. "And now it's mine. My father and stepmother are in prison for her murder. I have every right to be here. I'm not a child. I'm a woman who is ready to take what's hers."
She then introduced them to a man who had been a loyal subordinate of her late mother. Mr. Yang. He was a man with a kind face and a calm demeanor. He had been a thorn in the side of her stepfather's reign, and Anya knew she could trust him.
"This is Mr. Yang," she said, her voice strong and confident. "He will be the new CEO of this company. I will be the owner, and I will be his guide, but he will be the one who runs the company."
The board members looked at each other, their faces filled with shock. They had not expected her to be so decisive. They had not expected her to be so powerful.