Chapter 4

I should have left the moment I had the chance, but instead I stood there, unmoving, staring at the city beyond the glass walls as if the distance between me and that freedom could somehow be crossed just by looking at it long enough.

I palm my face, frustratingly when Alessandro’s freaking handsome face flushed on my wind when he took over my body, claiming all of me as his.

I let out a deep sigh.

Did I let him to fuck me or I’m just too weak to defend myself?

The silence behind me shifted.

Then came the soft click of the door closing.

It was not loud, but it carried weight, final and deliberate, like something sealing shut behind me.

I felt it in my chest before I even turned.

“You are thinking too loudly.”

His voice reached me from behind, calm and controlled, yet it wrapped around my spine like something firm and inescapable.

I exhaled slowly and turned to face him, forcing my expression into something steady.

“And you are watching too closely,” I tried to hide my anger.

Alessandro stood near the door, his posture relaxed, his movements unhurried, as if he had already settled into the space while I was still trying to find a way out of it.

Now, looking at him, I understand why my body gives in.

He’s a freak hot asshole.

“I always do,” he said.

There was no arrogance in his tone, only certainty, and that certainty irritated me more than anything else.

I stepped away from the window, closing some of the distance between us, refusing to let him control every inch of the room without resistance.

“Do you ever stop?” I asked.

“No.” The answer came easily.

Of course it did.

I let out a quiet breath, folding my arms tightly across my chest as if I could hold myself together through sheer force.

“Then let me make this simple,” I said, holding his gaze. “I am not staying.”

His eyes lifted fully to mine, dark and steady, and for a moment I felt as if I had just stepped into something far deeper than I intended.

“You are.”

The way he said it was not a response.

It was a conclusion.

“I am not your prisoner.”

“I never said you were.”

“Then stop acting like you own me.”

His head tilted slightly, studying me, his gaze moving over my face with slow precision that made me suddenly aware of how close we were standing.

“I do not act,” he said quietly. “I decide.”

Something tightened in my chest.

I hated the way his voice remained steady while mine was already starting to sharpen with frustration.

“I am leaving when they find my twin. I am done here,” I said again, more firmly this time.

“You will not.”

“Give me one reason why I should stay.”

He moved.

Not abruptly.

Not aggressively.

But with a single step forward that erased the space between us like it had never existed.

“You already know the reason,” he said.

“I want to hear you say it,” I answered back.

For a moment, he did not speak.

He simply looked at me.

Really looked at me.

As if he was not just hearing my words but measuring everything behind them, every hesitation, every reaction I was trying to hide.

“You took your sister’s place,” he said at last, his voice low and even. “You stood beside me. You said the vows. You signed your name.”

“That was to save my family.”

“And now you will stay to finish what you started.”

“I did not agree to that!” I hissed.

“You did the moment you walked down that aisle.”

The frustration snapped through me, sharp and immediate.

“You keep twisting everything,” I shot back, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between us. “You take one decision and turn it into control over everything else.”

“I am not twisting anything,” he replied calmly. “I am clarifying the outcome.”

“You are controlling it.”

“Yes.”

The honesty of it caught me off guard.

For a second, I had nothing to say.

He watched me through that silence, unbothered, unshaken, as if my reaction had been expected all along.

I dragged a hand through my hair, turning slightly as I tried to breathe through the tension building in my chest.

“This is insane,” I muttered.

“No,” he said. “This is structured.”

I looked at him in disbelief. “That is your justification?”

“That is reality,” he calmly said.

I turned back to him, anger still burning under my skin.

“You think saying it like that makes it acceptable?”

“I think it makes it clear.”

“Ugh!” I let out my frustration.

He stepped past me then, close enough that his shoulder brushed mine, and the brief contact sent a sharp awareness through me that I immediately hated.

He stopped a few steps away and turned to face me again.

“If you are going to stay,” he said, “you will follow my conditions.”

I let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh and faced him fully.

“You mean your rules.”

“Yes.”

“I am not agreeing to anything.”

“You already have.”

“That is not how agreements work.”

“That is how this one does.”

I shook my head, stepping toward him again, refusing to let him dictate the distance between us.

“You really believe that?”

“I do not need belief,” he said. “I have leverage.”

The word hit like a weight.

“And what exactly are you holding over me?” I asked, my voice lowering despite myself.

“Your family.”

The answer came immediately.

No hesitation.

No remorse.

Something inside me tightened hard.

I closed the distance completely this time, stopping just inches away from him, my voice sharper now, more personal.

“That is low,” I said.

He smirked. “That is effective.”

I stared at him, my chest rising faster now, anger and something else tangling together in a way I could not separate.

“You would actually use them against me?”

“I would ensure they remain untouched,” he said, his tone steady. “As long as you stay where I can see you.”

“That is not protection.”

“It is control.”

I chuckled sarcastically. “At least you admit it.”

“Of course I do.”

The way he said it made my breath catch for just a second.

I stepped back abruptly, needing space before something in this moment shifted too far.

“Fine,” I said. “Tell me your conditions.”

He watched me carefully, as if confirming that I had finally reached the point he expected.

Then he moved again.

This time, when his hand closed around my wrist, I felt it immediately.

Firm.

Warm.

Unyielding.

“You remain here,” he said.

“That is confinement.”

“That is security.”

“For who?”

“For you.”

“I do not need your protection.”

“You do.”

I tried to pull my hand free, but his grip tightened just enough to stop me.

“You attend every event with me,” he continued, his voice lowering as he stepped closer again. “You stand beside me. You speak when necessary. You do not contradict me in public.”

“And if I do?” I challenged.

His eyes darkened slightly.

“You will not.”

“You keep saying that like I do not have a choice,” I said, narrowing my eyes on him.

“You do.”

“Then let me go,” I tried to pull away.

“No.”

The word landed heavier this time.

Not calm.

Certain.

I swallowed, my pulse starting to rise again.

“You are unbelievable.”

“And you are still here,” he bluntly said.

I pulled against his hold again, this time harder, but instead of letting go, he stepped closer, forcing me back a step until my shoulders nearly brushed the wall behind me.

The shift in position was subtle.

But it changed everything.

“You think this is about control,” he said, his voice lower now, closer, his breath just within reach.

“It is.”

“It is about keeping what is mine where it belongs.”

“I am not yours.”

His free hand rose, catching my jaw before I could turn away, his fingers firm as he tilted my face upward.

My breath caught.

“You stood beside me,” he said quietly. “You wear my name. You sleep under my roof as my beloved wife.”

“That does not mean anything. I will not stay here longer than you think.”

“It means everything and you will stay here.”

His thumb brushed once against my jaw, slow, deliberate, enough to make my pulse jump.

“And what do I get in return?” I asked, my voice quieter now despite myself.

His gaze dropped briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes.

“You get me,” he said as if he’s my reward.

Is he? Damn it.

The answer hit harder than it should have.

“I did not ask for that. I-I do not need your body,” I denied him.

“No,” he said softly. “But you are starting to want it.”

My breath faltered.

“That is not true.”

“Then stop reacting.”

“I am not reacting.”

“You are.”

His voice lowered further, closer now, more dangerous.

“You stop breathing when I get this close.”

I swallowed.

Hated that he noticed.

Hated that he was right.

“You are imagining things,” I said.

“And yet,” he murmured, leaning just enough to close the space between us completely, “you have not moved.”

For a moment, neither of us did.

The air shifted.

Tightened.

Something unspoken stretched between us, fragile and dangerous.

I should have pushed him away.

I should have said something.

Instead, I stayed still.

And that was the worst part.

Because the longer I stayed, the more it felt like I was no longer resisting him.

I was responding.

“Let me go…” my voice cracked.

He pulled me to fill the gap between us. His strong arms snake around my tiny waist. I got chills and my body is reacting!

“I won’t let you go, Yvo. Not now that you are mine,” he pressed those words while staring deeply in my eyes.

I shook my head. “No. When they find my twin, I got no reason to stay here. I will leave you and your freaking fantasies alone. You can’t have me, Alessandro.”

His jaw tightens. “I can have you,”

“For now but not for eternity,” I answered back.

He stares at me for a long time. It was just silence before he leaned down and steals a passionate kiss from me.

“Then I’m claiming you before it ends,” he murmured under his aggressive kiss.