Chapter 19 – The Final Confrontation

The house felt different.

Maybe it was me. Maybe it was the weight of everything pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Or maybe it was the silence—the kind that wasn’t empty but full of something unspoken, something lurking in the shadows.

Alexander had been distant since our last conversation. He hadn’t locked me in my room, hadn’t issued any new threats. But he also hadn’t let me go.

Instead, he watched.

Not in the way he used to, where his gaze was a warning, a reminder that I was his captive. This was different.

Like he was waiting.

For what? I wasn’t sure.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands curled into fists. The key he had given me was still tucked under my pillow. I hadn’t used it. Not yet.

Because I was stupid.

Because something inside me didn’t want to walk away.

I hated myself for it.

The door creaked open.

I tensed, expecting Alexander. But instead, I was met with someone I hadn’t seen in weeks.

Celine.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she stepped inside, her red lips curling into a slow smirk. “You look different,” she said, tilting her head. “More… broken.”

I clenched my jaw. “What do you want?”

She laughed softly, strolling closer. “Relax, sweetheart. I just came to see if you were still playing this little game of yours.”

I frowned. “Game?”

She leaned in, lowering her voice. “You do know what you’re doing, don’t you? You’re making him weak.”

My stomach twisted. “That’s not—”

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t see it.” She sighed dramatically. “Alexander was never supposed to care about you. You were just supposed to be a passing obsession, a pet to entertain him. But now? Now he hesitates. And that, sweetheart, is dangerous.”

My pulse pounded in my ears. “Dangerous for who?”

Celine’s smirk widened. “For you.”

A chill ran down my spine.

I had always known she hated me. But this was different.

This was a warning.

Before I could respond, the door slammed open.

Alexander.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were locked onto Celine with something sharp, something lethal.

She straightened, smoothing her dress. “Speak of the devil.”

His jaw ticked. “Get out.”

She raised a brow. “Really? That’s how you treat me after everything?”

His hands curled into fists. “I won’t say it again.”

For a moment, she just stood there, meeting his glare head-on. Then she let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “You’re a fool, Alexander. You think this ends well for either of you?”

He didn’t respond.

She turned to me one last time, her smirk fading.

“Run while you still can, sweetheart.”

Then she was gone.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I looked up at Alexander, my heart hammering in my chest.

“What was that about?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes flickered with something unreadable.

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

But I was worried.

Because for the first time, I realized—whatever was coming for us, it wasn’t just about me and Alexander anymore.

It was bigger.

And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it.

-----

The moment Celine left, the room felt heavier, suffocating.

Alexander hadn’t moved. He stood near the door, his back rigid, his fists still clenched at his sides. I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his chest rose and fell with controlled breaths.

I swallowed hard.

“What did she mean?” I asked, my voice small in the heavy silence.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked over to the window, his gaze distant as he looked outside. The night stretched endlessly beyond the glass, dark and full of shadows.

“She’s just trying to get inside your head,” he finally said, his voice colder than usual.

I frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

He turned then, his piercing eyes locking onto mine. “You want answers?” His tone was sharp, almost cruel. “Fine. Celine doesn’t like loose ends. And right now, you’re a loose end.”

My stomach twisted. “She wants me dead.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “She won’t touch you.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

His eyes darkened. “I can.”

I shivered at the finality in his tone. Alexander wasn’t a man who made empty promises. If he said Celine wouldn’t touch me, it meant he was willing to do anything to make sure of it.

But why?

“Why are you still protecting me?” I whispered.

Something flickered across his face—something raw, something dangerous. But just as quickly, it was gone.

“You’re mine.”

A chill ran down my spine.

I should have been scared. I was scared. But not in the way I used to be.

Because deep down, I wasn’t just afraid of him.

I was afraid of what he was turning me into.

His steps were slow, calculated, as he moved toward me. I refused to back away, even when he stopped just inches from me.

“You still don’t understand, do you?” he murmured, reaching out to brush his fingers against my cheek. “I own you.”

My breath hitched.

“I could let you go,” he continued, his fingers trailing down my jaw, his touch deceptively gentle. “But I won’t.”