Alexander's POV

Obsession is a foreign concept to me. Women are nothing but fleeting distractions—used and discarded without a second thought. I've never had the urge to keep one. Never wanted to ruin someone so thoroughly that they could never breathe without me.

Until her.

Emily.

She doesn't know this, but I saw her six months ago. She was working behind the bar in one of my clubs, looking so out of place—so fragile in a world of predators. She had that lost, hollow look in her eyes, the kind that called to something dark inside me. She flinched when men got too close, but she held her ground. That intrigued me. She didn’t belong here, and yet she stayed. That night, I decided she would be mine. And what I want, I take.

Emily thinks I took her because she saw me kill a man. That’s amusing. If she were anyone else, she’d be six feet under by now. But my little koetonek is special. I’d never let anyone else lay a hand on her. No, the only hands that will touch her, break her, claim her—will be mine.

She just doesn’t realize it yet.

Right now, I had more pressing matters. The Italians were waiting, and Dante Cavazaro had some explaining to do. His men interfered with my shipment, and I don’t take kindly to people meddling in my business.

The underground meeting hall was dimly lit, the air thick with tension. Cavazaro was already seated when I arrived, flanked by his men. Good. He should be nervous.

“Good to see you, Alexander Nikolai,” Dante said smoothly, but I caught the strain in his voice.

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same, Cavazaro.” My tone was casual, but he wasn’t stupid—he knew what that meant.

“I swear, Nikolai, I had no knowledge of the attack. My consigliere went behind my back, and I assure you, he’ll be dealt with,” he said quickly.

I leaned back in my chair, studying him. “Your mess isn’t my concern. Your men touched what’s mine, and now I have a problem. You know how I deal with problems, don’t you?”

His face paled. He should be afraid.

“Look, Nikolai, I don’t want war between us. That’s why I came to offer a solution.” He hesitated. “My sister, Anastasia. If you take her hand, our families will be tied. No more conflicts.”

A slow, humorless smirk spread across my face. “You think offering me your sister will erase your mistake?” I leaned forward, voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “I don’t need a wife, Cavazaro. And I don’t need your territory. I’ll take whatever I want, whenever I want. Including your life if you piss me off again.”

I pushed back from the table, standing. “You owe me 100 billion by the end of the month. Fail to deliver, and you’ll be nothing but a corpse rotting in your own blood.”

His face twisted with barely concealed rage, but he nodded. Smart choice.

I left without another word, slipping into my car. My patience for incompetence was already wearing thin, but my mood darkened further when I arrived home and heard a voice from the kitchen.

"You ruined the dish, bitch!"

I stilled.

"You whore, I told you to turn the stove off!"

The voice was sharp, mocking. A maid.

Then I heard her.

"B-but I told you, I—I don’t know how to c-cook steak..."

Emily’s voice trembled, and that was all it took. My blood ran cold. My jaw clenched. I stepped into the kitchen just in time to see Emily holding her hand, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Was she burned?

A sharp rage surged through me.

“What’s happening here?” My voice was calm. Too calm. Emily’s head snapped toward me, eyes widening in fear. I motioned her forward, and she obeyed, her small frame trembling. When she reached me, I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. Her body shivered against mine.

I glanced at the maid, then at my men. “Take her away.”

They didn’t need further instructions. The moment the maid realized her fate, she started begging. Pathetic. I didn’t waste another second on her.

Emily still clung to me, sniffing quietly into my neck. I lifted her effortlessly, wrapping her legs around my torso as I carried her upstairs.

She didn’t fight me. She didn’t scream.

Because she knew there was nowhere to run.

Once inside my bedroom, I sat on the bed with her in my lap. Her small hands clutched my shirt.

"P-please let me go. Please. I don’t want any trouble. I won’t tell anyone, I swear—just let me go."

Tears ran down her face.

I pressed a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Shh, no need to cry, koetonek. You’re not going anywhere.”

She sobbed for a few more minutes, then went still against my chest. Good. She was learning.

I stroked her hair. "Now get up and stand."

She blinked up at me, confused. "H-huh?"

“I don’t like repeating myself.” My voice hardened. “Stand up. And strip.”

Her breath hitched. Fear widened her eyes.

"Koetonek," I murmured, tilting my head, "don’t make me ask again."

A single tear slipped down her cheek, but she obeyed.

One by one, she removed her clothes, hesitating over each piece as if hoping I would change my mind. I wouldn’t. I never do.

When she stood before me—bare, vulnerable, mine—I dragged my gaze over her body, drinking her in.

She was perfection.

And now, she belonged to me.

Author’s Note:

Hey, lovely readers!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter—it was intense, dark, and full of power play. Alexander’s obsession with Emily is growing, and things are only going to get more twisted from here. Let me know your thoughts in the comments—I love reading them!

Don’t forget to vote if you’re enjoying the story. Your support means the world to me!

Xoxo