The silence of the Valois mansion wasn't peaceful; it was heavy. It felt like a thick blanket designed to keep secrets in and people out. Elena lay on the massive bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep was a luxury she couldn't afford—not while she was essentially bought as a toy by someone she doesn't even want to see .
Her mind was a whirlwind of escape routes. Think, elena you can't waste your time here.
Around 2:00 AM, she decided it was time. She moved with the stealth of a cat, her heart thumping against her ribs. When she slipped out of her room, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Two maids were standing in the hallway, looking like they hadn't blinked in hours.
"Madam? Do you need something?" one of them asked, her voice soft but startling in the dead of night.
"I'm thirsty," Elena said, her voice remarkably steady. "Just looking for the kitchen."
"Oh, please return to your room, Madam. I will bring the water to you immediately."
"No!" Elena said, perhaps a bit too loudly. She cleared her throat and softened her tone. "I... I need to walk a bit. My legs are cramped. I'll get it myself."
She didn't wait for an answer. She marched down the grand staircase, feeling the maids' eyes on her back. The kitchen was a masterpiece of stainless steel and marble. She opened the massive industrial fridge, grabbed a bottle of cold water, and drank half of it in one go.
Suddenly, the heavy thud of boots echoed in the hallway.
Elena froze. She ducked behind a large marble kitchen island just as a massive man walked into the light. It was Alex's head bodyguard—the one who looked like he ate bricks for breakfast. He was on the phone, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.
"Yeah, the perimeter is set. The cargo moves at 03:00 am. Make sure the northern exit is clear. If you find anything uneasy just let me know, will reach there in an hour ."
Elena's eyes widened. A mission. If the main security force was distracted moving "cargo," this was her golden window. She waited until his footsteps faded before tiptoeing toward the front of the mansion.
She reached the massive glass doors leading to the main exit. She peeked out, hoping for a clear path, but her jaw dropped. There were guards everywhere. They were standing every ten feet, illuminated by floodlights.
"You've got to be kidding me," she whispered to herself, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Is this a house or a high-security prison? Honestly, what is wrong with this man?"
She realized the front and side exits were impossible. That left the backyard garden, which stretched out into a dark, wooded area. Elena moved through the shadows of the manicured bushes, her oversized hoodie snagging on rose thorns.
"Ow," she hissed, detaching a branch from her sleeve. "Once let me go out you fucking alex then you will see who I am ."
She reached the back perimeter—a stone wall that looked at least ten feet high. It was smooth, ancient, and very, very tall. Elena looked up, then looked at her hands.
"Okay, Elena. You did Pilates for three years. You can do this. It's just a vertical challenge."
She jumped, grabbing a small ledge in the stone. She grunted, her sneakers slipping against the smooth surface. She looked like a frantic squirrel trying to climb a greased pole. She managed to get one foot into a crevice, hoisting herself up a few inches, only to slide back down with a pathetic thud into the mulch.
"Stupid... expensive... wall," she cursed under her breath, wiping dirt off her palms.
She tried again. This time, she got halfway up, her fingers clawing at the top of the stones. She was panting, her face red, her hoodie hiked up awkwardly. She was so focused on her struggle that she didn't look up at the second-floor balcony directly above her.
Alex Valois was standing there, leaning casually against the railing. He wasn't in his intimidating suit anymore. He wore a loose, white sheer t-shirt that hung off his broad shoulders and matching white lounge pants. In his hand was a silver can of sparkling water, which he sipped slowly as he watched the "show" below.
He didn't say a word. He just watched her climb three feet, slip, catch herself, and let out a string of very un-CEO-like insults at the masonry.
Finally, after Elena's fourth attempt ended with her face-planting into a hydrangea bush, a deep, amused voice drifted down from the darkness.
"You know, if you wanted a workout, there's a state-of-the-art gym on the third floor. It has much better grip than the garden wall."
Elena froze. She slowly turned her head, looking up. Alex was illuminated by the moonlight, looking annoyingly handsome and completely relaxed.
"How long have you been standing there?" she barked, trying to stand up straight and maintain some shred of authority while covered in leaves.
"Long enough to see that your Pilates instructor lied to you," Alex said, leaning his chin on his hand. "You have zero upper body strength, Ms. Vane."
"I was... inspecting the architecture!" she lied, brushing a twig out of her hair.
"Inspecting it with your chest?" He took another sip from his can, a smirk playing on his lips. "You looked more like a confused spider. Come up here. You're embarrassing the hydrangeas."
"I am not coming up there! I am leaving!"
"Through the wall?" Alex raised an eyebrow. "Unless you've hidden a jetpack in that oversized hoodie, I don't see that happening. The wall is twelve feet high, topped with motion sensors and enough electricity to fry a steak. If you'd actually touched the top, you'd be smelling like burnt toast right now."
Elena paled. She looked at the wall and then back at him. "You let me climb it knowing it was electrified?"
"I wanted to see how far your stubbornness would take you," he said, his voice dropping into that dark, velvety tone. "Turns out, it takes you exactly four feet off the ground."
He straightened up and gestured toward the French doors behind him. "Get inside, Elena. Before I decide to turn the sprinklers on. You look ridiculous."
Elena fumed. She wanted to throw a rock at him, but she knew he'd probably catch it and make her pay another billion dollars for "attempted assault." With a loud, dramatic groan of defeat, she stomped back toward the house.
Ten minutes later, Elena found herself standing on the balcony. She had tried to go back to her room, but Alex had intercepted her in the hallway, practically dragging her to the terrace.
The air was cooler here. Alex was sitting in a low outdoor chair, his legs stretched out. He looked different in the white clothes—less like a shark and more like a ghost. But his eyes were still just as sharp.
"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the chair across from him.
"I'd rather stand," she snapped.
"Suit yourself. Your legs must be tired from all that 'architectural inspection' anyway."
Elena glared at him. "Why are you doing this, Alex? You bought me, you kidnapped me, and now you're mocking me. What is the end goal here? You said you didn't even like my 'taste' in the hallway earlier."
Alex set his can down on the glass table. The playfulness vanished from his face, replaced by the cold stone of the businessman who ran an underworld empire.
"I bought you because you have something I need," he said. " it isn't your body nor it isn't your 30% stocks in Ora & Olio."
Elena frowned. "Then what?"
"You," he said without any expression, leaning forward into the light. "You look at the world the same way I do. You see the rot. You see the traps. Most people are sheep, Elena. But you? You're a wolf who's been trying to play the role of a CEO. I need a wolf for what's coming next."
Elena felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind. "I'm not your soldier, Alex."
"You aren't anything yet," he countered. "Right now, you're just a girl who can't climb a wall and the one curse after every breath. But by the time I'm done with you, you'll realize that four billion was a bargain."
He stood up, his tall frame looming over her. For a moment, she thought he was going to touch her, and her heart skipped a beat—half in fear, half in something else she refused to name. Instead, he simply reached out and plucked a small green leaf that was still stuck in her hair.
He held it up between two fingers, smirking. "Next time you try to escape, try the vents. They're less... leafy."
He turned and walked back into his room, leaving Elena alone on the balcony. She looked at the city lights in the distance, feeling smaller than she ever had in her life. She was trapped in a game where she didn't even know the rules, and the man holding the cards was the most dangerous person she had ever met.
She looked at the leaf in his hand before he'd dropped it. She picked it up and crushed it in her fist.
"Just you wait, Alex Valois," she whispered to the empty night. "I'm going to burn your empire down, and I won't need a wall to do it."
The morning sun bled through the heavy velvet curtains of the guest suite, hitting Elena's eyes with a brightness she didn't feel. She hadn't slept—not really. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt the phantom sensation of the wall under her fingertips and heard Alex's mocking voice echoing from the balcony.
She refused to wear the clothes the maids had laid out—delicate, expensive things that felt like a uniform for a doll. Instead, she stayed in the oversized hoodie and sweatpants. If she was a prisoner, she would look like one. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her "polished."
When she reached the grand dining hall, the scent of fresh espresso and expensive tobacco filled the air. Alex Valois sat at the head of the mahogany table, looking impossibly sharp in a tailored charcoal vest and a crisp white shirt. He was reading a digital tablet, a cup of black coffee steaming beside him.
He didn't even look up when she entered. The only sign he knew she was there was the slight, cold pull at the corner of his mouth.
"Sit," he commanded, his voice smooth and devoid of any morning grogginess. "Eat. You looked like you burned a lot of calories failing to climb my garden wall last night."
Elena's jaw tightened. She didn't sit. Instead, she stood at the opposite end of the table, her hands shoved deep into her pockets. "I don't take orders from people who don't sign my paychecks," Elena said, her voice a low, dangerous silk." Besides I'm not hungry. I want to go home."
"The chef prepared a mushroom omelet and fresh sourdough. It would be a waste of talent to let it go cold," he said, still not looking at her. "And in this house, we don't waste."
In my house, we don't kidnap people and charge them four billion dollars for the privilege," Elena snapped. "I'm leaving, Alex. Now."
Finally, he looked up. His dark eyes were calm, but there was a weight in them that made the air in the room feel heavy. He set the tablet down slowly.
"My driver will take you to your penthouse in twenty minutes." He said calmly.
Elena rolled her eyes, a sharp, defiant gesture. "Whatever. Send me the bill. I'll see you in court."
"Court?" Alex let out a low, dry chuckle that didn't reach his eyes. "You think the law reaches this high? How cute. Eat the meal Elena, I can't stand your attitude this early in the morning."
Elena leaned over the table, her eyes narrowing into slits of dark fire. She let out a mocking, sarcastic laugh. "Then sit down, Alex. If you can't stand it, maybe your legs are as weak as your morals."
The room went deathly silent. A maid in the corner dropped a silver spoon, the clang echoing like a gunshot. No one talked to Alex Valois like that. No one.
Alex's expression didn't change, but the atmosphere shifted. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze boring into hers. "Unbelievable," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "You really have no sense of self-preservation, do you?"
"I have plenty," she hissed. "I just don't have any respect for people who buy their friends and kidnap their enemies."
"I don't have friends," Alex said, standing up. He was a head taller than her, his shadow stretching across the table until it swallowed her. "And you aren't an enemy yet. Don't push me to make you one."
The ride back to her apartment was silent and tense. She sat in the back of the SUV, staring out the window at the city she used to feel she owned. Now, every street corner felt like it belonged to him.
As the car pulled up to her luxury building, the driver stepped out to open her door. But before she could exit, the passenger door opened, and Alex stepped out. He had followed her in a separate car.
He walked over to her side, blocking her path to the lobby. The morning commuters hurried past, none of them realizing that the city's most powerful CEO was being cornered by its most dangerous shadow.
"A reminder, Ms. Vane," he said, stepping into her personal space.
Elena stood her ground, her chin tilted up. "A reminder of what? That you're rich? I knew that already now move ."
"A reminder that you owe me," Alex continued, his voice dropping into a low, resonant hum. "When I call, you answer. When I give you a task, you complete it. You are going to help and if you don't ."
She cutted in between "And if I don't?" she challenged, her voice trembling with the weight of her fury. "Or else what? You'll buy my apartment building too?"
Alex leaned down, his lips inches from her ear. She could smell the sandalwood and the cold metallic scent of his watch.
"Or else," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin, "I will make you do it. By hook or by crook. I don't care if I have to drag you through the mud or carry you on my shoulder again. You will comply."
He pulled back, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips. "Go upstairs, Elena. Get some sleep. You look like hell."
Elena didn't say a word. She passed him a glare so sharp it could have drawn blood, turned on her heel, and marched into her building. She didn't look back until she was safely behind her own reinforced steel door.