~ Elena ~

The first morning of my marriage felt strangely surreal. I woke up in a bed that seemed way too big, in a room that wasn’t familiar, next to a man who had decided not to stick around. The space beside me was untouched, the sheets still perfectly smooth.

I got up slowly, changed out of the wrinkled wedding dress I had fallen asleep in, and slipped into a robe I found hanging in the closet. As I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I noticed my pale complexion and the puffiness around myself eyes from the tears I had fought back the night before.

I told myself to stop fixating on it. This was the life I had been thrust into, and I had to find a way to cope.

When I walked into the kitchen, Alexander was already there. He was dressed in a navy suit, holding a cup of coffee, with his phone resting on the counter. His presence filled the room, even though he didn’t look at me right away.

“Morning,” he said in a flat tone.

“Morning,” I replied quietly.

Finally, he met my gaze, his eyes sharp and intense. “There’s a gala tonight. Be ready by seven. The press will be there, and I don’t want you to mess anything up.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Pick something appropriate. Elegant. Nothing that will draw negative attention.”

I nodded. “Got it.”

He didn’t say a word after that. He finished his coffee, grabbed his briefcase, and walked past me. "Stay out of my way," he said just before the door clicked shut behind him.

I lingered in the kitchen, the silence pressing down on me.

---

The hours dragged on. I roamed around the penthouse to keep myself busy. It was spacious and filled with fancy furniture, but it felt so cold. There were no photos, no personal touches. Everything seemed set up to impress guests rather than to feel like a home.

I stumbled into his office. On the desk, there was a framed picture of him with a woman. She had blonde hair, sparkling eyes, and a smile that could light up a room. He wasn’t grinning widely, but the way he stood next to her said everything I needed to know.

I gently put the photo back where I found it and left the room. I didn’t want to linger on the reminder of who truly mattered to him.

As evening rolled in, I forced myself to get ready. I picked out a sleek black gown from the wardrobe my mother had sent. My hair was neatly pulled back, and my makeup was simple. I looked like I belonged at a gala, even if I didn’t feel that way.

When Alexander returned, he glanced over me once. "That’ll do."

That was the closest I had come to earning his approval.

We made our way to the event in a hush. He was glued to his phone the whole ride. I found myself staring out the window, watching the city blur by, feeling like I was living someone else's life.

---

The gala was buzzing with energy, cameras ready as soon as we stepped out of the car. Alexander's hand rested lightly on my back, guiding me forward. To the crowd, it probably looked sweet. To me, it felt like just another act.

“Mr. and Mrs. Drake,” a reporter called out. “Congratulations! How does it feel to unite your families after all these years?”

Alexander beamed a perfect smile. “It’s a big step for us. We’re really looking forward to what’s next.”

Then the microphone was pointed at me. “And you, Mrs. Drake?”

I managed a smile, even though it hurt. “I’m happy. Very happy.”

Camera flashes went off, and I kept the smile plastered on until we stepped inside the venue.

The night continued in much the same way. We greeted guests, made small talk, and listened to speeches. I stood by his side, nodding and smiling at all the right moments.

And then I saw her.

The woman from the photo I found in Alex's office.

She stepped into the room wearing a stunning red dress that radiated confidence. As she walked straight up to Alexander, I noticed his expression change. A genuine smile broke across his face, not the usual stiff, polite grin he reserved for everyone else; this one felt real.

I stood there, frozen, as she lightly touched his arm while they chatted. They seemed so comfortable together, as if they were meant to be.

When his eyes flicked toward me from across the room, his smile faltered for just a second. But then he turned back to her, as if I had vanished from sight.

Eventually, I gathered the courage to approach. I positioned myself next to him, waiting in silence. The woman shifted her gaze to me, offering a polite smile that felt thin and insincere.

“It was lovely to see you, Alexander,” she said softly before making her exit.

He didn’t even look my way. Not once.

The drive home was filled with a silence that felt heavier than usual. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Who is she?” I asked.

Alexander didn’t bother to look up from his phone. “A friend.”

“She didn’t seem like just a friend.”

I could see his jaw tighten.

I locked my eyes on him. “You want me to keep quiet in public, but I won’t pretend to be blind in private. If you expect me to play the role of your perfect wife, fine. But don’t act like I don’t see what’s right in front of me.”

His head snapped toward me, his eyes cold as ice. “Watch your tone, Elena.”

I bit my tongue. There was no point in pushing it any further.

The rest of the ride was steeped in silence.

When we finally got home, I retreated to the bedroom without saying a word. I changed out of the gown, slipped into my pajamas, and lay on the bed facing the window. My eyes burned, but I refused to let the tears fall.

I wasn’t about to give in. Not for him.

But as I stared at the twinkling city lights, one question kept nagging at me.

What have I done?

---

~ Alexander ~

The gala was just what I needed. Investors were happy, the media got their snapshots, and everyone seemed to think the merger was solid. On paper, it looked perfect.

Still, Elena’s words from the car kept replaying in my mind. “Don’t pretend like I don’t see what’s right in front of me.”

She was sharper than I had given her credit for. I thought she would just smile, nod, and go along with everything. Instead, she spoke her mind.

Once we got back, I poured myself a drink and gazed out the window.

Victoria had been in my life long before Elena. She understood me, supported me, and stood by me. Elena was just here for business. I had no reason to let her in.

Yet, when she looked at me tonight, there was something in her eyes that took me by surprise. Maybe it was just fear or sadness.

I brushed the thought aside.

This marriage wasn’t about feelings. It was about control, power, and appearances. That was all there was to it.

---

~ Elena ~

The days that followed fell into a familiar routine. Alexander left early every morning and came back late at night. He was always buried in work. I found myself alone in the penthouse most of the time.

I spent countless hours wandering around the city whenever I could, even though I always felt like someone was keeping an eye on me. Maybe it was security, journalists, or just people waiting for me to slip up.

On the days I chose to stay inside, I’d read, whip up some meals, or pace the hallways just to remind myself I was still here. Sometimes, I’d catch myself glancing at that photo in his office again, the one with him and that same woman. Each time I saw it, I’d quickly look away, annoyed with myself for caring so much.

The silence between us was becoming heavier by the day. Dinner conversations were scarce, and in the car, he was glued to his phone. Inside the apartment, we brushed past each other like we were strangers.

But I was determined not to fade into the background.

If Alexander wanted me to be invisible, that was his choice. I had no plans of disappearing.

I didn’t know how, but I was sure this wasn’t the end of my story.

~ Elena ~

The days after the gala felt like a routine I never signed up for, yet here I was, living it. Alexander was buried in work, putting in long hours, while I stayed behind in the penthouse. He’d leave in the mornings with barely a word, come home late, often way too late, and usually head straight to his office or his room. We managed to share dinner only twice, and even then, the conversation was sparse.

I tried to shake off thoughts of Victoria, but it was like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands. Every time I remembered the way he smiled at her, my heart would twist painfully. He had never looked at me like that.

By the third night, I had given up on waiting for him. I curled up in bed with a book until sleep finally claimed me.

I was deep in slumber when I heard the door to my bedroom creak open. I stirred but didn’t fully wake up until I felt something warm against my thigh. At first, I thought I was dreaming. My body reacted instinctively, shifting under the touch.

Then the warmth moved higher. His hand slipped beneath the hem of my nightdress. My eyes flew open.

Alexander loomed over me, his shirt partially unbuttoned and his tie hanging loosely. The scent of alcohol wafted from him, but his eyes were sharp, locked onto mine.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, caught off guard.

He didn’t respond. His hand slid higher, fingers pressing against my skin, and a warmth spread through me, betraying the resistance in my voice.

"Stop," I urged, trying to push his hand away.

With ease, he caught my wrist and pinned it to the bed. His face moved closer, his breath warm against my lips.

"Do you want me to stop?" His voice was low and rough.

I froze, my heart racing. I should have said yes. I should have pushed him away more forcefully. But my body had other ideas. Heat ignited between my legs, and I hated that I wanted him.

I stayed quiet.

His mouth brushed against my neck, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down my spine. My free hand weakly pressed against his chest, but he only leaned in closer.

"Say it," he urged.

I swallowed hard. "Don’t stop."

The words slipped out before I could take them back.

---

~ Alexander ~

I stumbled into my home, a bit tipsy but still aware of what I was doing. All day, thoughts of her had been swirling in my mind, and honestly, I hated it. I tried to convince myself that she was just a distraction, a face for the cameras, a pawn in someone else's game. But the image of her at the gala, looking stunning in that elegant black dress, kept replaying in my head.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake it off. I couldn’t stop thinking about Elena.

When I opened her door and saw her asleep, that delicate nightdress hugging her curves, I lost all sense of control.

Touching her sparked something deep inside me. I expected her to push me away, to yell, to fight back. But she didn’t. She murmured for me to stop, but her body told a different story. And when she urged me not to stop in her sleep, I realized that maybe she wanted this just as much as I did.

I captured her lips in a kiss. She tasted warm and sweet, a complete surprise compared to the bitterness I had prepared myself for. She gasped against me, and I deepened the kiss, parting her lips and letting my tongue explore hers.

Her hands gripped my shoulders tightly. For someone who claimed to be uninterested, she held onto me like I was her lifeline.

I pinned her beneath me, my body pressing against hers, feeling the heat radiate through that sheer fabric.

—

~ Elena ~

His kiss took my breath away. It was intense, demanding, nothing like the cold, mechanical touch he had given me at the wedding. This was raw. Real.

I tried to remind myself that I shouldn’t let him get to me. That he didn’t love me, didn’t even have feelings for me. But every time his lips touched mine, every time his tongue danced with mine, that thought slipped away.

His hand moved higher, gripping my thigh with a firm hold. My body instinctively arched toward him. A soft moan escaped my lips, quiet yet impossible to ignore.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze intense as it locked onto mine. “You’re enjoying this.”

I turned my face away, feeling a rush of embarrassment. “I’m not.”

“Liar,” he growled, lifting the hem of my nightdress up past my hips. His hand pressed between my legs, right over my panties. I gasped, my body betraying me again as I felt the warmth spread against the delicate fabric.

His smirk was infuriating. “You’re soaked.”

“Just stop talking,” I muttered, my cheeks burning.

Without warning, he pushed my panties aside and slid a finger inside me. I cried out, my back arching in response.

It was rough and quick, nothing gentle about it. My nails dug into his shoulders as he moved his fingers hard and deep. I moaned uncontrollably, unable to hold back.

My mind screamed for me to resist, but my body wouldn’t listen. Pleasure crashed over me in waves, building quickly and washing away any coherent thought.

When I cummed, I grasped him tightly, breathlessly calling his name without intending to.

----

~ Alexander ~

The sounds of her moans filled the space, and just the noise was almost enough to send me over the edge. She was tight, wet, and quivering around my fingers, her nails digging into me as if she couldn’t handle it.

It was addictive to watch her unravel beneath me. I craved more.

With one swift motion, I yanked her panties off, ripping the delicate fabric. Her nightdress followed suit. I didn’t care about being gentle. I wanted her naked, exposed, and mine.

I lowered my head between her thighs, holding her hips down as she tried to squirm away. My tongue pressed against her, tasting her, delving deep. She gasped loudly, her hand flying to her mouth to suppress the sound, but I seized her wrist and pulled it away.

“Don’t hide it,” I murmured against her.

Her cries echoed in the room as I sucked harder, licked deeper, driving her wild. Her legs shook uncontrollably, her hips grinding helplessly against my mouth.

When she climaxed again, the flavor of her pushed me beyond any restraint I had left.

I quickly stripped, tossing my clothes aside until I was completely naked. My cock was hard, throbbing.

As I crawled back over her, her wide eyes locked onto mine. Fear, desire, confusion—they were all present. But she didn’t push me away.

I leaned down, taking her nipple into my mouth, biting gently. Her moan was raw, filled with desperation.

I positioned myself between her thighs, sliding slowly into her tight warmth. Her nails clawed at my back as I pushed deeper, stretching her.

Her gasp was sharp, but her hips rose to meet me.

-----

~ Elena ~

The moment he entered me, everything else just faded into the background. The anger, the fear, the resentment, it all vanished under the sheer intensity of his presence.

He filled me completely, stretching me, pushing deeper than I ever thought possible. My body tensed for a moment, then surrendered as waves of pleasure washed over me.

He started off slow, savoring every inch, making me whimper with each thrust. My hands clung to his back, gripping tightly as if my very life depended on it.

Then his rhythm changed. It became more aggressive. Harder. Faster. The bed shook beneath us. My cries morphed into screams, and I lost all awareness of who might be listening.

“Alexander…” I breathed, his name slipping from my lips over and over.

He groaned against my neck, his thrusts relentless. Each time he drove into me, electric sensations coursed through my body.

I tried to remind myself to stop, to resist, to recall everything he had said. But the way he moved, the way he touched me, I was utterly powerless to fight it.

When I finally reached my climax, it was fierce and all-consuming. My body tightened around him, pulling him in deeper, milking him. I cried out his name once more, louder than ever.

--

~ Alexander ~

Feeling her climax enveloping me, screaming my name, nearly broke me. I thrust into her harder, faster, chasing my own release.

She held onto me like I was her lifeline, her nails digging in, her body trembling.

I could no longer hold back. With one final thrust, I buried myself deep inside her and released, groaning against her ear.

We collapsed together, our bodies slick with sweat, hearts racing.

For the first time since our marriage began, I felt liberated from the weight of anger or resentment. Just her.

But as I finally pulled away and looked at her, reality hit me like a wave.

She stared back at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes wide with surprise.

Neither of us said a thing.

---

~ Elena ~

As I lay beside him, my body still trembling from everything that had just happened, I struggled to wrap my head around it all.

I hated him. I wanted him. I hated that I wanted him.

And in that moment, I understood that nothing would ever be the same after this night.

The morning sun poured in through the curtains, warming my skin, but it did nothing to ease the tight knot of anxiety in my stomach. I shifted under the sheets, painfully aware of the empty space beside me. Alexander was gone. Again. The silence in the penthouse felt heavier than ever, and I hugged the pillow to my chest, wishing I could just vanish.

I thought back to last night, the way he had moved against me, taken me. It was rough, intense, and completely overwhelming. My body still buzzed with the memory, but my mind was screaming that I shouldn’t let myself feel anything for him, not after all the pain, the indifference, the coldness.

I got up slowly, slipping into a robe, and headed to the kitchen. Maybe a cup of coffee would help ease the knot in my stomach. I was halfway to the counter when I heard the soft click of his briefcase closing.

“Morning,” I said cautiously, turning to see him fully dressed for work, looking sharp in his suit, his hair perfectly styled.

He barely glanced my way. "Morning."

His tone was flat, devoid of emotion, and it hit me harder than any insult ever could. I felt a tightness in my chest.

"You’re… leaving?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"Yes." He picked up his briefcase. "Don’t complicate this. Just stay out of my way."

I bit my lip, watching him head toward the door. "Alexander…"

He paused for a moment but didn’t turn around. "I said what I said." And just like that, he was gone.

I sank onto a stool, gripping the edge as I fought back tears. The ache in my chest wasn’t just loneliness, it was embarrassment. The memory of last night’s passion, followed by this morning’s coldness, twisted inside me. I wanted to scream at him, to make him acknowledge what we had, but deep down, I knew it would be pointless.

The hours dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity. I wandered around the penthouse, sometimes staring out at the city lights, other times pacing the marble floors. My mind kept replaying the tension from last night, the dominance, the heat, the way he had taken me. I hated that I craved it. Hated that I yearned for it. Hated that I still thought about it while he acted like it had never happened.

By mid-afternoon, my anxiety had morphed into a restless energy. I busied myself tidying the kitchen, even though it was already spotless. I arranged the silverware, lined up the glasses, each little task a way to distract myself from the fluttering anticipation in my stomach.

Then I heard the front door click open earlier than expected. My heart raced. It was only four, too soon for him to be home. I froze, gripping the counter as I felt the atmosphere shift.

"Hello," he said, his voice low and commanding as he stepped into the kitchen.

I turned slowly, trying to keep my composure, but the sight of him, his presence filling the room, made my heart race. He didn’t say anything else, just closed the door behind him and moved closer, stopping right behind me. I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"Turn around," he whispered, his voice dangerously smooth.

I stood there, completely frozen. "What?"

"Turn. Around," he repeated, this time with a sharper edge to his voice. His hand brushed against my arm, guiding me. "Strip."

I shook my head, fighting to keep my cool. "Alexander… we can’t…"

"You will. Now." His grip tightened on my arm. "Or I’ll do it for you, and trust me, you won’t like it. I’m still giving you a choice. Strip."

I bit my lip, hesitating as my chest tightened. I wanted to argue, to push him away. I wanted to retreat and hold onto my control. But I couldn’t ignore the heat pooling between my legs, the ache that had been building all day.

When I still didn’t move, he let out a sigh and stepped closer, his body pressing against mine from behind. I felt the cold steel of his suit jacket against my back, the warmth of his chest just beneath it. He didn’t need to touch me to make his intentions clear.

In one swift motion, he pinned me against the counter. My back pressed against him, my hands bracing against the cool surface. I swallowed hard, my breath hitching at the pressure, the dominance, the sudden closeness.

His lips grazed my neck, biting and kissing, setting off a fire in their wake. I shivered, trying to pull away, but his hands held me firmly. My robe was slipping at the edges, revealing my skin, and I felt my resistance start to fade, even though I didn’t fully give in.

"Do you feel that?" he whispered in my ear, his voice deep and rough. "All this tension. All this desire. You’ve been holding back all day."

"I,I..." My voice barely escaped. I could feel the heat pooling lower, a mix of fear, frustration, and longing.

"I know," he said, pressing his lips harder against my neck. "But I’m not gentle. Not today."

I tensed as his hands traced my waist, slipping beneath the gown I was wearing. He shifted, pressing against me in a way that made his intentions crystal clear. My heart raced. This was intense, overwhelming, the kind of heat that left me trembling and breathless, yet I refused to meet his gaze. I kept my eyes fixed ahead, fingers gripping the edge of the counter, anchoring myself to the only solid thing in the room.

His hands moved with purpose, lifting the hem of my gown while his mouth left fiery trails down my neck. I felt exposed, vulnerable, yet electrified. Every nerve in my body was alive.

Then the pressure shifted, the dominance changing its angle, and I realized what was about to happen. He was taking me from behind, and the heat that surged in my chest made me gasp. I instinctively tried to pull away, but his grip stayed firm.

"You’re not stopping me," he murmured, a dangerous satisfaction lacing his tone.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my chest rising and falling rapidly, my body betraying my mind as tension escalated with every movement. It was intense, overwhelming, each motion resonating through me. I was learning, feeling, experiencing every brush of skin, every push and claim.

He kept a steady rhythm, fueled by instinct and desire. The counter beneath my hands felt cold, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from our bodies as we moved together. I could feel the strength of his control, the dominance clear in every touch, every press, every grip.

"Look at me," he murmured, but I didn’t give in. I held my ground, my back turned to him, subtly pushing back even as my body betrayed my determination.

"Good," he breathed against my neck, his voice low and rough. "I like that you’re putting up a fight, but right now, you’re mine."

I struggled to catch my breath, every nerve ending alive, every part of me ignited. My thighs quivered as he shifted, and I bit my lip to hold back a moan. The heat and pressure, the intimacy and control, were almost too much to bear, yet there was a strange clarity in it. I was here. I was resisting.

The rhythm shifted again, and I felt him lift me slightly, placing me on the countertop. I steadied my hands, my body adjusting as the intensity grew. The sensations were all-consuming, his raw energy commanding every part of me.

I could hear my own breath, quick and shallow, mixing with his low, steady murmurs. The push and pull of resistance and dominance sent shivers through me with every passing moment, sharpening my awareness of the power dynamics swirling between us.

And then it ended as suddenly as it began. He leaned into me one last time, a low, rough whisper brushing against my ear. "You’re incredible."

I stayed silent. I didn’t move. My body still buzzed with tension, still trembling from the intensity. My back pressed against the counter, I felt raw, exposed, conflicted, and vibrantly alive.

He straightened up, adjusted his jacket, and walked toward the door without saying a word. I didn’t turn around.

----

~ Alexander ~

I watched her struggle against the pull, fighting it yet subtly surrendering, and it drove me wild. Every act of defiance, every moment of doubt, every tremor in her body cranked up the tension to an almost unbearable level. For this brief moment, she was mine, and claiming her, even just a little, felt like a victory.

I could feel her tension under my fingertips, hear her breaths quickening, stirring something primal inside me. But I knew I had to hold back. I could take control, I could assert my dominance, but she wasn’t beaten. Not yet. Not completely. And that only made her more irresistible.

When I left, I didn’t glance back. She needed time to process it all, to feel it, to understand it. The silence was part of the control. Part of the game. Part of what kept her on edge.

~ Elena ~

I slumped against the counter, finally letting out a breath. My muscles ached, my chest was rising and falling rapidly, and my mind was a chaotic storm. I hated him. I wanted him. I loathed that I wanted him.

Tears threatened to spill, but I held them back. I ran my fingers over my neck where his lips had lingered, still ignited by the memory.

I wasn’t sure if I would ever feel safe or normal again. He walked out of the room as if nothing had happened, leaving me alone with the remnants of his dominance and the chaos of my own desire.

The penthouse felt colder now. Empty. And I came to the painful realization that nothing between us would ever be simple.

I stayed there, frozen for what felt like forever, my back against the counter, chest still trembling, thoughts swirling. I hated him. I wanted him. And somehow, both of those truths were inescapable.