Hate him

EMMA'S POV

Tears welled in my eyes, and I squeezed them shut, holding them back. I just wanted to go back to my old life. I curled up under the covers, my body trembling as the tears silently fell. The weight in my chest grew, making it hard to breathe with every second that passed. I shook with quiet sobs, my heart aching as the pain of everything overwhelmed me.

My mind was screaming for peace and for relief. I just wanted to go back, to my friends. But there was no going back. This was my reality now, and it was crushing me. My phone buzzed again on the nightstand, another message from one of the girls, probably asking where I'd disappeared to, why I ghosted the group chat but I ignored it. They had sent me several messages but I hadn’t responded yet. I was fucking tired of everything.

Without thinking, I screamed. The sound tore through the silence, raw and jagged, as my body shook violently. My throat burned, but I didn’t care. The scream escaped me over and over, each one louder than the last, until my body went numb, until the world around me seemed to disappear.

My anxiety surged, uncontrollable, until it felt like it would consume me completely. And as I screamed, all I could think was how I couldn’t escape it. How I couldn’t escape everything that was going in my life.

"Oh my goodness, why are you crying?", Within seconds, the door burst open and I heard voices.

"She is not fine, let’s inform Mr Alexander",

"She's burning up, fever's spiking."

"Pulse is tachycardic. She's hyperventilating."

"Get the oxygen ... now!"

I tried to focus, tried to see through the haze, but everything swam. A mask pressed over my face, cool oxygen flooding my lungs. Someone lifted my wrist, checking something. Another hand brushed sweat-soaked hair from my forehead.

"Inform the boss right now. Tell him she's not fine, tell him it's bad. We're moving her to St. Mary's now."

I wanted to tell them no. Wanted to beg them not to call him. But my body wouldn't cooperate. My lips moved, but only a weak whimper escaped and everything turned black.

  A blinding white light greeted me, hours later when my eyelids fluttered open and the sharp scent of antiseptic filled my nostrils, making my stomach churn. I tried to move, but a dull ache radiated through my limbs, keeping me pinned.

Then I heard it, voices. Low, murmured words just out of reach. My vision sharpened, and I realized I wasn’t in my room anymore. The walls were pristine white, the air clinical and sterile. I was in the doctor's office.

Panic spiked through me, but before I could sit up, a firm hand pressed against my chest, forcing me back down. "Don't move," a deep, emotionless voice commanded.

Alexander.

My breath caught in my throat. I turned my head slowly and my gaze locked onto his cold, green eyes. He was sitting beside me, legs crossed, completely composed as if my breakdown hours ago had been nothing more than an inconvenience.

The doctor beside him adjusted his glasses, checking something on a clipboard before looking down at me. "She is stable now," he informed Alexander. "It was a severe anxiety attack. Her body shut down from the stress." He added.

Alexander didn't react, not even a flicker of emotion crossed his perfect, chiseled features. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp and assessing. "Is that all?", He asked.

The doctor hesitated. "Physically, yes. But mentally she is not fi..."

Alexander cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I don't need a lecture on her mental state. Just tell me if she's fit enough to stand."

The doctor sighed, clearly used to Alexander's indifference. "Yes, but she needs rest. Pushing her too hard could..."

Alexander stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "I don’t have time for weakness," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Then his icy gaze settled on me. "Get up." He ordered.

I swallowed hard, my body protesting as I struggled to sit up. The room spun, my vision blurring at the edges, but I forced myself to stay upright. Alexander watched, unimpressed, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark slacks.

"You're not dying," he said flatly. "So stop acting like it."

His words stung more than they should have. I gritted my teeth, willing the shakiness in my limbs to disappear. But the pain in my chest was still there, heavy and suffocating.

I didn’t trust my voice to stay steady, so I said nothing.

Alexander stepped closer, his presence looming. "I was told to take care of you but I won’t tolerate this kind of weakness and stupidity. Do you understand?", He snapped in a low voice. I clenched my fists in my lap, my nails digging into my palms. The rage and helplessness inside me swirled like a storm, but I couldn’t let it show. Not in front of the doctor.

"Yes," I murmured.

"Good." He turned to leave, his voice cold and final. "Get dressed. We have things to do."

"I want to go and start living alone.  Everything in your house is overwhelming and bullshit!" I sat up and glared at him with a dagger like stare.

His face morphed into one of anger. "You will not cuss in front of me, girl, or disrespect me like that again." My rage only rose tenfold at his statement. "You can't just treat everyone you know like fucking shit! I just had a panic attack because of you and all of this! You took me from my friends and dared to act like you knew me when we had only met after I was forced to stay with you".

Alexander’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as I let my fury spill out. For the first time, I saw something flicker in his icy gaze, not anger, but something more restrained and controlled.

"Are you finished?" he asked, his tone eerily calm.

"No!" My breath was ragged, my hands trembling as I gripped the sheets beneath me. "I don’t want you to take care of me! I never wanted this....",

"Find me in the car",

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving only the doctor and me in the sterile silence. I exhaled shakily, my entire body trembling.

No escape. No freedom.

Just Alexander’s rules.

And I was trapped.

I didn't say anything, I just moved and went out to the car.

The hallway felt impossibly long as I walked toward the exit, my steps slow and unsteady. Every part of me screamed to turn back, to find another way out, but there was no point. There was no escape from Alexander.

Outside, the cold air hit me like a slap, shocking me back into the grim reality of my situation. The sleek black car was waiting, its tinted windows reflecting the dim hospital lights. Alexander stood beside it, his hands tucked into his pockets, his expression unreadable as he watched me approach.

I didn’t say a word as I reached him.

Neither did he.

Without waiting for him to open the door, I yanked it open and slid inside. The leather was cold against my skin, and the scent inside, his scent wrapped around me like a noose.

Alexander followed a moment later, settling into the seat beside me. The driver, wordless and efficient, started the engine, and the car pulled away from the hospital.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.

I kept my gaze locked on the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of neon and headlights. Every fiber of my being wanted to scream, to fight, to demand some semblance of control over my own life. But I knew how that would end.

Alexander always won.

Minutes passed before he finally spoke, his voice smooth and calculated. "You’ll learn to control that temper of yours."

I clenched my fists in my lap, nails biting into my skin. "And if I don’t?"

He turned his head slightly, his gaze piercing. "Then I’ll break you until you do." He spoke.

A chill crawled down my spine.

I hated him.

But worse than that, I hated that  part of me  that desired him.