My father's thoughts came through my mind while I was seated on the bed in the guest room with the gun also sitting beside me. It felt so cold, holding it ignited thoughts.
That person I was trying to protect was still lying helplessly in the hospital. I got so worried thinking "What if Brenton decides to go after him?" "What if he murders him?" More questions kept popping up and this continued for hours even after knowing the fact that he's been moved to a private suite in the hospital made for the VVIP and Alexander had set on stand-by security to protect him. I tried waving off all thoughts to keep calm leaving out the fact that I wanted to leave to go stay with him in the hospital.
Just then my father's name lit up the encrypted screen.
Not him—his nurse.
I answered on the first ring. "Hello?"
"Mrs Pierce, your father had another seizure earlier today. He's stable now, but… I think your presence would help more if you could come."
My heart twisted. "Is he talking ?"
"Barely, he kept on asking for you."
"I'll be there as soon as possible."
I hung up.
But before I could move Alexander stepped into the doorway blocking my path standing all strong like a wall impenetrable.
"Where are you going?"
"To the hospital. My father—"
"It's not safe."
"I don't care."
"You should."
"Well, I don't." My voice cracked, he's all I have."
A long pause
Then he sighed
"Thirty minutes, you see him within that time and come back immediately.
However, I didn't argue nor did I agree with what he said. I was silent and just wanted to arrive at the hospital at any cost.
"Give me five minutes I'm going with you," he said, not looking in my direction.
I stared in surprise "You don't have to—"
" I'm sure you're aware of what will happen if Brenton gets you and finds out that your father is vulnerable. This would be his biggest weapon against you and me so I'm doing this to prevent that so I'm not doing this for you"
But somehow I discovered in the shift of his jaw… the way he didn't meet my eyes.
There was something else there now. Something unspoken.
I still didn't argue.
We left in a bulletproof SUV, trailed by two black cars filled with security. Alexander sat beside me in silence, tapping away at his phone—but every few seconds, he glanced at me. I watched the way my hands trembled. I noticed when I chewed my bottom lip raw.
And for the first time… he didn't comment.
Immediately we arrived I rushed in
I felt my heart cave in as I walked into the room my dad was in. He looked smaller than I remembered. Pale. Fragile. Tubes and machines surrounded him like chains.
He stirred at the sound of my heels.
"Elena…" his voice sounded so weak.
I rushed to his side and grabbed his hand.
" I'm here, Dad. I'm here."
"Are you fine?"
"Yes, I am Dad. How are you feeling?"
"I feel better but you shouldn't be here for long he is coming for you the nurse saw a note he dropped"
" I called to inform you he is dangerous "
My blood ran cold
Alexander heard of this and immediately added more securities to guide him closely.
Thirty minutes had passed but I didn't want to leave, I wanted to stay by his side all night long.
But Alexander didn't let me, instead a nurse was assigned specially to keep an eye on him all through the night.
The drive back was calm and silent, I was angry but my father's warnings were echoing in my head, his commands and his decision strongly saying I couldn't stay the night.
When they entered the penthouse, I spun on him.
"You don't get to control everything I do. You don't get to dictate where I sleep, who I see.. I mean my whole life shouldn't be bent on your control"
"It's not control," he cut in, his voice sharp. "It's protection. And if you can't see that, then you have no understanding of the danger you're in."
My chest was heavy, words trembling at the edge of my lips. The room vibrates with furry, fury, want—all colliding at once.
"You're not my life dictator, that's the highest I can go with you and the so-called contract marriage," I spat as I entered my room and banged the door angrily behind me.
Something inside him snapped. In two strides, he was going to his room at that moment but the argument was so heated that he stormed into my room, his hand immediately reaching out for me, his hand cupping my jaw, not gently. Our anger sparked, colliding in the space between our mouths before his lips crushed mine.
The kiss was messy, hot, filled with everything we both couldn't say. Surprisingly in all of this, I could feel how soft his lips were. They were the kind you couldn't ignore easily. But I pushed against his chest, half in protest, half in want.
He suddenly pinned my back to the wall, his body against mine. I could feel how hard it was.
While he stole my breath.
We both took off our clothes, buttons yanked, fabric torn. His mouth trailed fire down my throat, my fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, closer. Every touch was rough, desperate, like we were still fighting but through our bodies instead of words.
I think I prefer this way better
I could feel his steel mesmerizing Grey eyes focus on me as my gasp filled the air when he lifted me, my legs wrapping tight around his waist. He carried me and laid me on the bed, lowering me with a hunger that was almost violent in its urgency. His hands roamed, gripping, claiming. I arched beneath him, nails raking his skin, answering his fire with my own.
When he slid inside me, it wasn't slow. It was hard, raw, and I could feel every thrust pounding with anger and need inside me. I clung to him, moans breaking between sharp breaths, our bodies moving in rhythm, fast and fierce.
It was too much, too fast, too consuming—and yet neither of us wanted it to stop. Anger turned to heat, heat to release, our cries filling the room as they shattered together.
When it was over, silence. Our bodies still tangled together, our hearts racing. I looked at him, lips swollen, chest rising and falling. He stared back with his eyes longing for more, his hand still on my thigh, his jaw tight.
We were both shaken. I guess
Not by the fight.
But by what the fight had turned us into.