03: Say yes, Alexa

ALEXA

I pressed the phone tighter to my ear as I dropped my heels by the door, kicking it shut behind me.

"...and then he slid the contract across the table like it was a goddamn marriage proposal, Sofia. Can you believe that shit?" I headed for the kitchen, flipping on the light. "Killian Cross doesn't ask. He decides. And apparently, I'm next on his to-do list."

Sofia's laugh crackled through the phone. "Please tell me you told him to shove it."

"I did. With extra venom." I opened the fridge, then closed it again, my appetite long gone. "But he looked at me like I'd just challenged him to a game he was dying to play. He scares the hell out of me, Sof."

There was a pause on the line. "Then why does your voice sound like you're intrigued?"

I sighed and leaned against the counter. "Because I'm stupid. And tired. And..." I rubbed my temple.

"You're not stupid," Sofia said gently. "You chose not to let him own you. That's strength, Bella Mia."

Was it? Because right now, every part of me felt like it had been rung out and hung to dry.

"I'll call you in the morning," I murmured. "I need to shower and forget today ever happened."

"Text me if anything feels off. I mean it."

"I will. Night."

"Night, queen."

I hung up and wandered into the bedroom, stripping out of my blazer. As I reached for the zipper of my dress, the fabric brushed my ribs, and I winced.

Fresh, ugly bruises were still blooming along my side where the last argument with my dead husband had turned into something else entirely.

I stared at myself in the mirror. My skin was a canvas he'd marked without permission. And I was marred with fist-shaped reminders of what it meant to be caged.

Even now, months after his body hit the mortuary, I could still hear the ghost of his raspy voice. He had been a heavy smoker, and it had ruined his voice.

"No one will ever want you. You're broken. You're mine."

I blinked hard, forcing the memories back into the internal vault I'd spent years building. He was dead. I was free.

At least, I was supposed to be.

But what if...what if even in his death, I would never be free from him?

I swallowed hard, angry tears pricking my eyes. That bastard had ruined my life more than enough.

A loud crash echoed from the living room, and I froze, half-dressed, my heart lurching in my chest. And suddenly the window shattered.

Glass exploded inward, cutting through the air like razors. I barely had time to scream before masked men flooded into the apartment with their guns drawn.

"Where is it?" one of them snarled, shoving me hard enough that my back slammed against the dresser. Pain pierced through my body, and I gritted my teeth.

"Where is the damn ledger?"

Ledger? What ledger?

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about!" I snapped, my breathing quickening as one of them yanked open my drawers, throwing my things everywhere. My laptop. My documents. Even my underwear. Everything was being torn apart.

"I'll ask one more time," the tallest one growled, pulling a lighter from his coat pocket. "You give us the ledger, or we burn this place down with you in it."

My blood turned to ice in my veins.

"Talk!"

The smell of gasoline hit my nose before I could argue. They'd already poured it, how hadn't I noticed?

My heart thundered in my chest. I reached blindly for my phone, but one of them grabbed it and smashed it beneath his boot, crushing my fingers in the process.

I screamed, clutching my burning fingers to my chest the instant he moved his foot.

"Talk!" he barked again, the lighter snapping open and closed. Sweat beaded on my temples.

"Please-" I choked out, my voice trembling. "I swear, I don't know what you're talking about-"

He took a step closer.

"You're lying." The man beside him raised a canister. "Burn her. Let her scream. Maybe then she'll remember."

In that moment, the first flicker of flame danced to life.

And my eyes widened with horror. Was this how I die? No, I was supposed to be free... I was supposed to become happy...

A loud bang tore through the air, and I flinched, lowering my head to the floor.

The man holding the lighter crumpled like paper, dead before he hit the floor.

I choked on a gasp, my eyes widening as the other intruders froze. There was a very brief moment of calm, silence and disorientation.

Then hell broke loose.

A blur of black uniformed men burst through the door. They were tactical and ruthless, and they seemed to be well trained. Gunfire filled the room like thunder, and my ears rang. Cries tore through the air, and blood sprayed the walls like a horror scene painted in real time.

I lay flat on the ground, my heart slamming against my ribs. And in the middle of it all, a tall figure sauntered towards me, unbothered...

Killian Cross.

He was wearing that same leather coat I'd ruined with wine.

He moved through the chaos like he owned it. It was as though the bullets danced around him on command. His men dropped the last of the intruders, the silence returning so suddenly it made my skin crawl.

Killian holstered his gun, strolling toward me as though he'd just returned from a goddamn business meeting.

"Are you alright, Tesora?" His deep voice was smooth like silk.

"You-" I panted, scrambling to my feet, my hands shaking. "You followed me."

"Of course I did." He flashed me a dangerous smile. "I told you, no one touches what's mine."

"I'm not yours," I spat, backing away from him. "You don't own me."

"No," he murmured, his eyes gleaming as he stepped closer to me. "But I'm offering you something no one else can. Your life."

I blinked at him in disbelief. "You let them get that close to prove a point?"

Killian's jaw ticked, his expression hardening just a fraction. "Consider it... a demonstration."

"You bastard."

He chuckled. "You're bleeding."

I looked down, glass had sliced my arm. I hadn't even felt it.

Still, I refused to let the pain show. "Get out."

Instead, he moved closer, now only inches from me. "Say yes, Alexa."

"No."

He tilted his head, his fingers brushing a lock of hair from my cheek. "Say yes to being mine. My wife. My weapon."

"I'd rather die."

His smile widened like I'd just told him a joke. "Then you'd better hope my men don't miss next time."

He turned his back.

I froze. "Wait-what are you doing?"

"I gave you a choice, Tesora," he said, already heading for the door. "You chose wrong."

"Killian-"

He paused, one foot over the threshold, that annoying smirk carved into his cheek. "One word. That's all it takes."

My chest heaved, my limbs trembled. And the image of those men... the lighter... the blood-

It all screamed one thing:

I couldn't survive this alone.

"...Fine," I whispered. "Yes."

He turned slowly, his eyes gleaming like the devil had just claimed his soul.

"Yes, what?"

If survival meant surrender, then maybe surrender was the only choice I had left.

"Yes... I'll marry you."

A muscle jumped in his jaw. "Say it properly."

"You win. I'll be your wife."

His lips curled. "Good girl."

I winced. What the hell have I just signed up for? I couldn't help but wonder.

I stumbled to my feet, wincing. But right then, everything exploded.

The hallway erupted in flames as one of the men who lay half-dead and bloodied triggered a device in his grip. The shockwave sent me flying, heat searing my skin-

And Killian's voice echoed just before the blast swallowed us:

"Tesora, GET DOWN!"