CHAPTER 11:

ELENA’S POV

His hands flailed blindly in the air, desperate fingers clawing to push me off. I tilted my head back, keeping my frame just out of his reach while pressing my weight down with a cold, unyielding focus.

Muffled, furious words vibrated against the velvet fabric beneath my palms. I didn't care. I pressed harder, my jaw locked tight.

He thinks I'm a killer and a spy? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to be at a killer's mercy.

After a few struggling seconds, the strength in his arms began to fade, his hands dropping heavily onto the sheets. Deep down, a quiet whisper in my subconscious told me it was enough.

Slowly, deliberately, I withdrew my strength, lifting the heavy velvet pillow from his face.

Ethan drew a long, ragged breath, his chest heaving beneath the blankets. His hands instantly flew to his throat, clutching at his neck as a hoarse, painful cough racked through him.

"Are you completely insane?!" he half yelled, his voice raw and raspy. "Are you trying to kill—"

"Kill you?!" My voice cut through his words, sharp and dripping with venom.

"Isn't that exactly what you want me to be? You claimed I'm a spy. So I gave you exactly what you wanted," I sneered.

"And even now, I'm not satisfied... You deserve more than what I just did for thinking I have the luxury of time to waste on something that stupid! I have a life to rebuild! A future to reshape! And do you think I volunteered to come here as a surrogate in the first place?!"

I paused, burying my hands into my hair in absolute frustration as the fractured, bleeding scenes of my past few days came crashing back into my mind.

"Coming here wasn't my choice! My father traded my name into your family's candidate box without a single thought for my life. The man I loved for three years... the man who swore to rescue me was the one who handed my routine over to your recruiters for a cut of the trade money! I watched him celebrate in my stepsister's arms, mocking me for being submissive enough to wait for him in a rotting cupboard! Trust me, Ethan, my life was already a disaster before I was dragged into your snake pit!"

Ethan stared up at me, his breathing gradually slowing. But the cold, controlling mask on his face didn't shatter.

"That is exactly the type of tragic backstory a highly trained operative would fabricate to clear suspicion," he muttered coldly, his dark eyes narrowing.

My stomach dropped. I stared down at him, my mouth completely running out of words to describe the absolute arrogance lying in front of me. After laying bare the most humiliating, inciting trauma of my entire existence... this was all he had to say?

"I have heard scripts far more convincing than yours, Elena. They all turned out to be—"

I didn't let him finish. Before raising the pillow, I brought it crashing down right onto his arrogant face. Once. Twice. On the third swing, his hands shot up into the air, his forearms crossing defensively to block the blows. But the pure, unadulterated frustration inside me had already taken over. I beat him with that velvet pillow until my arms grew tired and the rage in my chest finally subsided.

By the time I lowered the pillow, his breathing was rigid. His dark eyes were bloodshot, glaring up at me as if he were looking at a deranged person.

"Yes, I am insane," I breathed out, my chest heaving, my eyes burning as I forced back the threatening sting of tears. "And I will personally ensure you never utter another word if you dare question my truth again."

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a low, dark chuckle that sounded entirely devoid of humor. "Are you threatening me now, surrogate? Do you have even the slightest comprehension of the consequences of your actions?"

A deep, dry scoff escaped my lips. Even pinned to the mattress, recovering from fractured ribs with his guards unconscious on the floor, this man was still trying to maintain absolute control. It was time to teach the heir of Vance Enterprises a lesson about life.

"It's not a threat, Ethan. It's a reality check," I sneered, leaning down until my face was inches from his, ensuring he couldn't look away from the fire in my eyes. "What exactly are you going to do to me in your present situation? Think about it. Apart from your bodyguard and a bleeding doctor, who else in this massive mansion actually knows you are awake? No one. Right now, stripped of your infrastructure and your titles... you are nothing but a helpless man trapped in a bed."

Something violently shifted in his expression. The arrogant, indifferent glaze in his eyes shattered, replaced by a sharp, calculating shock. My words had hit the exact nerve I was targeting.

"No one," Ethan rasped, his jaw clenching hard. "No one has ever dared to speak to me that way."

"That's because you've been thoroughly spoiled," I whispered, a cold, dangerous smile touching my lips as I stood up straight and looked down at him. "But don't worry. It's a good thing I'm here to set you right... First, we will start with your precious hair rules."

I wiggled my fingers mockingly in mid-air as I took another slow, deliberate step closer to him. He shifted uncomfortably against the headboard, his eyes almost bulging out of his skull.

"You wouldn't dare!" he hissed.

I smirked, lunging forward to deliberately bury my fingers deep into his dark curls, smoothing them back against his forehead. His hands immediately shot upward, locking onto my wrists as he struggled furiously to pull my hands out of his hair.

Just at that exact second, a sharp, heavy knock echoed against the door.

"Miss Elena... May I come in?"

Our movements froze. Our eyes widened in pure panic.

It was Mrs. Vance.