Chapter 5

I crossed my arms. “You can’t just say you’ve been watching me for fifteen years and then laugh about it.”

He tilted his head, studying me like I was the one saying something absurd. “You think I could just… ignore you?”

“Plenty of people have,” I shot back.

“I’m not many people.” His voice was low now, softer, but each word landed heavy. “I saw you once, Alina. That was all it took. And after that, I couldn’t not look for you. Couldn’t not know where you were, who you were with, if you were safe.”

I swallowed, my pulse picking up. “That’s not exactly normal, Dorian.”

“No,” he agreed, leaning forward until the shadows hid half his face. “It’s not normal. It’s mine. You’re mine. And I wasn’t going to wait for the chance to bring you to me again.”

My fingers tightened around the edge of the table. “When was the first time you saw me?”

His eyes locked on mine, unblinking. “You were twelve. Standing outside that old bookstore on Greenhill Street. It had just started raining. You didn’t have an umbrella, but you didn’t care — you were holding a book like it was something sacred. You smiled at the pages, completely lost.”

I frowned. “You remember… all that?”

“I remember everything,” he said without hesitation. “The way your hair stuck to your cheeks. The way you ignored the world like it didn’t deserve your attention. That’s when I decided.”

“Decided what?”

“That no one else was going to have you.” His tone was calm, too calm, but his eyes burned. “Not even the future. You were going to be mine — whether it took a year or a lifetime.”

I stared at him, my heart pounding too fast. “That’s… insane.”

He leaned back, a faint smirk curling his lips. “So is letting you go.”

I shook my head slowly. “You know everything about me, but you’re not letting me know you. That’s not a fair deal.”

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, his voice a quiet challenge. “Fair deals are for strangers. You’re my wife.”

I scoffed, trying to hide the strange shiver his words sent down my spine. “We barely know each other.”

“That’s what you think,” he murmured, eyes glinting in the low light. “I know the way you bite your lip when you’re nervous. I know you like your tea too hot to drink. I know you avoid the number thirteen. I know what songs you skip. I know you’d rather stay up all night than wake up early. I know you think you hide your anger well, but you don’t.”

I blinked, my throat tight. “And what do I know about you?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Exactly what I allow you to.”

I felt heat rush to my cheeks — part frustration, part… something else I refused to name.

He leaned back, studying me like I was a puzzle only he could solve.

 “Then tell me something real,” I said.

 His lips curved. “Something real? I built an empire before I was twenty-five. I’ve ended men who threatened it. And now…” His gaze locked on mine. “Now I’m building something with you.”

 My breath caught. “You make it sound like I’m part of your business plan.”

 “You’re not,” he said, leaning closer. “You’re the endgame.”

 I looked away, my pulse racing. “You’re impossible.”

 “And you,” he murmured, “are still trying to figure out if you want to run… or stay.”

I swallowed hard, forcing a smirk. “Maybe I’m just keeping my options open.”

He chuckled low, the sound curling around me like smoke. “Options are for people who aren’t already mine.”

I met his eyes, intending to challenge him, but the way he looked at me — steady, certain — made my words fade.

“Careful,” I muttered, “you’re starting to sound convinc

ing.”

“That’s because I am.”