Standing by the entrance of Alessandro's high-rise office building, the blue box in Elara's hand was shaking. Her heart torn between conflict after the party incident of being paranoid about his surveillance and physically branded by his touch.
As she approached his office, her phone rings — it's Alessandro. His timing was impossible. He knew that she was coming.
In other words, he was watching every single movement of her.
Alessandro didn't greet her. Instead, he issued a soft command, cold and unequivocal, "You can turn around now, Elara. I have eyes on you. And you will not leave that on my reception desk. Now come to my office and meet me."
With that, he hung the call, dismissing any possible objections from her, making it clear through his threatening voice that defying him now will have consequences.
Elara, her heart beating twice its normal speed, palms cold and sweaty, obediently went up.
As she pushed the huge doors of his private office open, she found Alessandro waiting, alone. He was leaning calmly against his desk, the picture of effortless power as his dark eyes scanned Elara up and down. It made her shiver.
The blue box in her hands became his focus. An unmistakable frown creased in his face, his eyes turning cold and hard once again. He stood up and advanced a step towards her.
"Why are you returning it?" he demanded softly but firmly, his husky voice echoing in the office.
Practically stumbling back, Elara clutched the box tighter, "I t-thought it was quite inappropriate and unprofessional," she paused, her eyes darting around nervously, "Our company rule forbids us from accepting gifts from client," she declared, trying to sound brave, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.
His frown turned into a smug grin, "And do you think, if I ordered that you shall accept this gift, your company has any rights to refuse?" his voice was dominant, leaving no space to doubt, "Besides, this is my personal gift for you," he moved forward again, closing the space between them.
"I'm sorry," Elara said quickly, "But i-it's too expensive, I can't accept them," she held out the box, hoping to keep Alessandro away.
Ignoring her hand, Alessandro pushed his way towards her, while she withdrew her hand instinctively at the touch of his chest. "Money isn't a concern for me. And it shouldn't be a concern for you. Especially when you're mine," he said the last word like an indisputable statement, emphasizing it.
Elara hit the wall behind her, her knuckles white from gripping the box in front of her too tight.
At this point, he was standing within a meter away from her, his tall presence looming over her, like a predator watching its prey, savoring the moment before it claimed its possession.
"You look scared, Elara," he said, musingly, "What did you feel, when my hands were on your waist that night?" he smirked knowingly, "Fear? Yes," he answered it himself, "But there was also something else."
Keeping her eyes low, she shook her head wildly, "No..." she whispered.
Alessandro suddenly placed the tip of his finger on her chin, tilting her chin up, forcing their eyes to meet. "Are you sure, Elara?" he challenged, his finger not leaving her chin. He could already hear her shallow breaths, which made him even amused.
So innocent. So fragile. So vulnerable in his hands.
"Yes, I'm sure," she voiced, trying to remain as still as possible, steadying her breaths. A bead of perspiration dribbled down her forehead despite the chilly air-conditioned room.
"Maybe," he shrugged, a hint of annoyance at her defiance in his voice, then he gripped her chin gently before tracing along her jawline, "I like to see you flustered like this," he said, "Even if you try to deny you hate this," he said with obvious possessiveness. "The moment you put this shawl on, you told me you accepted my protection. You told me you accepted my rules. And now it's not your choice to leave this game," he stated and chuckled darkly.
Elara pressed her back against the wall harder, clueless of what to do next. Indeed, she should have known that she had stepped into the lion's lair the first day she met him.
Holding her gaze, he leans in slightly, but doesn't kiss her. Instead, he ran the tip of his thumb over her bottom lip, a feather-light, teasing touch that made her breath hitch. It was a taste of what he could take, but wouldn't — just not yet. The silence between them was screaming with tension.
Out of a sudden, Elara dropped the blue box and shoved him back, surprisingly strong. Alessandro stumbled back, momentarily caught off guard, stunned and shocked, watching the once weak, innocent girl stand confidently with disgust before his eyes.
Temporarily adrenaline. He comprehended. It wouldn't last long.
He looked at the box on the floor, then glared at Elara. Anger flashed across his eyes once again, "You like to make me angry, don't you?" his voice low and dangerous, he strode forwards and grabbed her wrist hard enough to make her wince.
Fear returned to her eyes as she stood motionless, her once angry eyes huge and innocent again.
As his grip on her wrist turned gentle, he laughed, "Like an angry little puppy," he said, "Who doesn't know who their master is yet," he added.
Then he released her wrist. Gesturing at the blue box on the floor, he ordered, leaving no space to argue, "Pick it up." Elara bent forward hurried and picked it up, knowing better than to disobey.
"Put the shawl on," he commanded, observing each of her movement keenly. She opened the box and put the shawl on delicately, obediently.
Purring approvingly, his eyes lingered on her once more before he turned around and returned sitting by his office desk. "Alright," he said in a bored tone, "I've got some paperwork to complete. You may leave," he began arranging piles of papers before opening a thick file.
Elara nodded slowly before retreating, sighing of relief as she stepped out of the office, glad to be away from the mafia boss.