Elena's pulse slammed against her ribs.
Every inch of her was burning—conflicted.
Alessio's lips on her skin. His hands on her body.
Everything inside her screamed to fight back.
To resist.
To not let him win.
Because if she gave in now…
She would be lost.
Completely.
Her hands, still clutching his shirt, moved—
Not to pull him closer.
But to shove him away.
Hard.
Alessio barely moved—his grip tightened instead.
His lips froze against her throat.
And then, slowly, he pulled back.
Just enough to look at her.
His silver eyes were unreadable.
Dark. Intense.
A storm brewing beneath the surface.
Elena's chest heaved as she forced her voice past the lump in her throat.
"I am not yours."
The words came out shaky but defiant.
Alessio tilted his head, studying her.
Then—he laughed.
A quiet, amused sound. Dark and deadly.
"You think that?" he murmured.
His thumb brushed over her lip.
"You think you still have a choice, piccola?"
Elena's heart slammed.
His voice was soft. Almost gentle.
But there was nothing kind in his gaze.
Only cold certainty.
"I will never be yours," she hissed.
The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
Because something shifted in Alessio.
The amusement was gone.
Replaced by something lethal.
Something that made the room feel smaller.
More dangerous.
Elena's breath caught.
His grip on her hips tightened.
Not enough to hurt.
But enough to warn her.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"You really don't understand, do you?"
A shiver ran through her spine.
Alessio leaned in, his lips just a breath from hers.
"I don't need your permission to own you."
Elena's stomach twisted.
She tried to turn her face away.
Tried to push him back.
But Alessio didn't budge.
Didn't let her escape.
Instead, he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.
Forcing her to see the truth.
She was trapped.
Not just in his world.
But in his control.
And no matter how much she fought…
She wasn't getting out.
Not without paying the price.
And Alessio?
He always collected his debts.