Lila Hart's heart pounded. The memory of Alexander Knight's office seduction still clung to her skin like a phantom touch—his hands, his mouth, his possessive stare. Claire's urgent voice had saved her from disaster, but even that interruption hadn't erased the promise in his eyes.
Now, in the penthouse, she clutched a hastily packed suitcase. Alexander's latest move had stolen her breath.
"We're leaving," he'd said. His voice wasn't a suggestion—it was an order. "A private jet awaits."
The hidden clauses of their contract echoed in her mind, each one a chain tightening around her. Two years ago she had saved him from a burning car, dragging him from the wreckage with bloodied hands in a rain-slick alley. That single moment of compassion had sparked his obsession. It had turned her life into a prison.
She had agreed to the deal to save her family. Now, it owned her. Ethan Caldwell's offer of escape felt like a dream she could no longer reach—snatched away by Alexander's relentless claim.
The jet was a fortress of luxury—supple leather seats, crystal glasses, and Alexander's suffocating presence. He sat across from her, all sharp lines and controlled power, his tailored suit accentuating the frame of a man who never lost.
"You need a break from the city," he said, voice soft but edged with steel. "From distractions like Caldwell."
At Ethan's name, venom flickered across his face.
"I don't need a break," Lila snapped, though fear coiled in her stomach. "I need freedom. You can't just kidnap me."
His smile curved coldly. "Kidnap? You're my fiancée. The contract says I decide where you go."
He leaned forward, his hand brushing her knee. Heat shot up her leg, traitorous and unwanted.
"This trip," he murmured, "is for us—to remind you who you belong to."
Her skin flushed. Anger warred with the shameful desire his touch awakened. She turned toward the window, watching the world below vanish as the jet climbed higher, isolating her from everything.
Hours later, they landed on a private island—a paradise of turquoise waters and white sand that felt like a cage lined in gold. A sleek car whisked them to a sprawling villa, its opulence mocking her captivity.
Inside, Alexander's staff vanished as if on cue. Only he remained. He led her to a lavish bedroom, the door clicking shut with a sound that made her pulse spike.
"This is your home for now," he murmured, stepping closer. His fingers slid up her jaw, tilting her chin until she met his eyes. His sandalwood scent surrounded her. "No one to interfere. No Ethan. Just you and me."
Lila's breath hitched. Her body betrayed her with a shiver when his hand slid to her neck, brushing the sensitive skin.
"You can't keep me here," she whispered, but the edge in her voice was already breaking. Her body leaned into his touch even as her mind screamed to pull away.
His lips curved. His eyes darkened. "I can, and I will."
His thumb brushed her lower lip, igniting a pulse of need she hated herself for feeling. He pressed himself closer, his arousal unmistakable against her hip—a silent promise of what he could take.
"You'll learn to love this, Lila," he said softly. "To love me."
Her heart raced. She shoved at his chest, but he caught her wrists easily, pinning them gently but firmly. His gaze burned with possession.
"Run all you want," he whispered, lips grazing her ear. "You're mine, little flame."
The bedroom door locked with a soft click. Lila's eyes darted to the windows—barred, unreachable. She was trapped, alone with Alexander in an isolated paradise, his obsession wrapped tight around her like a chain.
Then a faint buzz shattered the silence.
His phone vibrated on the bedside table. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening.
"Veronica," he muttered, irritation sharpening his tone.
Lila's heart lurched. Veronica—his supposed real fiancée—was calling. And she was locked in this room with him.