Chapter 163 - 0163: Time To Face The Real World

Chapter 163: Chapter 0163: Time To Face The Real World

Elena’s Point Of View

"Blame the eyes, Bambina. They just wouldn’t stay closed."

My face burned, my fingers curling into fists at my sides as I glared at him, my voice sharp with frustration. "You pervert!"

But he only smiled... that smirk, that dark, knowing look that made my stomach clench, as though he hadn’t just watched me, hadn’t just seen me, hadn’t just ruined me all over again with nothing but a glance. His laughter rumbled low and rich, sending a shiver down my spine despite my growing irritation.

I hated how easily he unraveled me, how a single sound from him could undo hours of careful composure. It wasn’t fair, the way he could dismantle every wall I’d spent years building with nothing more than a look and that infuriating, knowing grin.

"Admit it," he murmured, taking a deliberate step closer. The sheer size of him blocked out the ambient lighting of the room, casting a heavy, suffocating shadow over me. His voice dipped into a dark purr. "You liked knowing I was watching."

"I did not!" I gasped out, though my breath caught in my throat the moment he closed the remaining distance between us. My heart betrayed me instantly, hammering against my ribs as if trying to escape and run straight into his arms.

I swallowed hard, my skin prickling with heat as he reached out. His calloused fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of my waist, his touch sending a sharp, electric shock straight down my spine. My knees threatened to buckle, and I hated myself for it. "Jaxx..."

"Shh," he whispered, leaning down until his lips brushed the shell of my ear. His voice was rough with pure amusement, vibrating against my skin. "Don’t lie to me, Princess. Not when your body is still aching for me. Not when I can feel your heart pounding against your ribs like a trapped bird."

"You think you’re so clever, don’t you?" I muttered, trying to keep my voice from shaking, though the tremor betrayed me anyway. "You think you can just look at me a certain way and I’ll lose my entire mind."

"I don’t think it, Elena. I know it," Jaxx murmured softly, his thumb tracing a slow, agonizing circle over my hip bone. "I saw the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn’t paying attention. You were practically begging me to take you right there on the floor."

"I was not begging!" My hands flew up to his chest, pushing against his broad, solid weight, my face flaming. "Get off me!"

He chuckled, dark and low, the sound rumbling against my palms, but he stepped back, his heavy gaze never leaving mine. I stood there trembling for a second, fumbling with the oversized shirt he’d bought me. I pulled it over my head, adjusting the hem with frantic, awkward movements before tying it into a tight knot at my waist.

The cool fabric felt like a sudden shock against my overheated skin. I grabbed my purse off the table, my fingers trembling so hard I nearly dropped it, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

Every second I spent in that room felt like another thread of my resolve unspooling, and I hated how much of myself I seemed to leave behind each time I tried to walk away from him.

"I have to go now, Jaxx."

"Are you running away, Bambina?" he asked softly, tilting his head as he leaned casually against the edge of the desk, crossing his broad arms over his chest. "Or are you just scared that if you stay five more minutes, you won’t leave at all?"

"I am not running," I lied, my voice tight. "I have a life. I have things I need to handle."

"Things?" Jaxx repeated, his dark eyes narrowing into sharp slits. "Or him?"

I stiffened, clutching my purse against my stomach like a shield, as if the leather and fabric could somehow hold back the truth of what he’d just named. "That is none of your business."

"Everything about you is my business the moment you step into my space," Jaxx said smoothly, his tone dropping the playful edge, turning into something cold and possessive. "You think you can just walk out that door and pretend last night and this morning didn’t happen? You think you can go back to playing house with a man who doesn’t even know how to look at you?"

"Jaxx, stop it," I pleaded softly, looking away because I couldn’t bear the sheer intensity of his stare. "Just... stop."

He watched me in silence for a beat, his gaze dark and unreadable, as though he were deciding whether to let me have this small mercy. He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen once, and pressed it to his ear. "Come upstairs now."

He ended the call without another word and tossed the phone onto the desk. I stared at him, my mind spinning, my heart pounding against my ribs, my fingers clutching my purse like it was the only thing keeping me grounded on this earth. I wanted to say something... anything to break the heavy, suffocating silence hanging between us, but the words stuck in my throat.

My mind was a complete blank, my body still thrumming from the memory of his touch, caught somewhere between wanting to run and wanting to stay forever. Some traitorous part of me wondered what would happen if I simply stopped fighting it, if I let myself fall into whatever this was instead of constantly bracing against it.

"You’re really leaving?" His voice was low, rough, his gaze burning into me as he stepped around the desk.

I hesitated, my breath hitching as he stopped right in front of me again. "I have to."

"Look at me, Elena," he commanded gently.

I swallowed hard and lifted my chin, forcing myself to meet the dark intensity of his stare even as my pulse hammered in protest. He stepped even closer, his broad fingers brushing against my flushed cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle, almost tender... a contradiction that confused me more than his roughness ever could.

It was in these quiet moments, when the arrogance fell away and something almost vulnerable flickered behind his eyes, that he frightened me most.

"You know where to find me if you change your mind," he murmured, his thumb stroking my cheekbone once. "And you will change your mind. You can try to run back to your safe, quiet little life, but you’re going to lie in that cold bed tonight thinking about my hands on your skin."

"You are arrogant," I whispered, though there was no real venom behind it.

"I’m realistic," Jaxx countered, a faint, devastating smirk returning to his lips. "I know what I do to you."

A knock sounded at the door - sharp, loud, and authoritative. Jaxx didn’t break eye contact with me right away. He let his hand slowly slide down my face, his knuckles grazing my jaw before he finally turned away. He crossed the room and pulled the heavy door open, his voice turning into a dark, immediate command. "Follow him. He’ll take you home."

The man standing outside was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a sharp dark suit. His expression was entirely neutral as he gave me a small, respectful nod. "This way, ma’am."

I took a slow breath and followed him out into the hallway, my steps feeling completely unstable, my mind reeling, my body still thrumming with the aftershocks of what Jaxx had done to me. The elevator ride down to the subterranean garage was dead silent, the air thick with an unbearable tension.

I stared at the metallic doors, my fingers clutching my purse like a lifeline, desperately trying to get my racing pulse under control, counting my breaths just to feel something steady beneath me. Each floor that ticked by on the display felt like a small victory, another inch of distance between myself and the man who unraveled me so completely.

When the doors slid open to the vast, concrete garage, the man turned to me, his voice polite and professional. "Ma’am, I’m Marcus. My boss asked me to ensure you get home safely."

I nodded, my throat so tight I couldn’t formulate a proper word, my mind spinning as Jaxx’s low voice seemed to echo from the doorway high above us. Take care of her, Marcus. She’s precious.

Marcus gave a small nod, walking over to a sleek, blacked-out sedan parked nearby. He pulled the back door open for me, his voice firm. "After you, ma’am."

I hesitated, stepping up to the vehicle. My gaze flicked past him toward the front passenger seat, my fingers tightening around the leather strap of my bag. "I can sit in the front..."

Marcus shook his head instantly, his stoic expression unwavering. "Only if you want him to have my head, ma’am. Please."

I let out a heavy sigh, my frustration boiling over as I reluctantly slid into the plush leather of the back seat, muttering a low curse under my breath. "Asshole."

The door closed with a heavy, muted thud behind me. The engine hummed quietly to life, and the car smoothly pulled out of the private garage, climbing the ramp and merging into the cool night air of the city streets. I leaned my head back against the leather headrest, my fingers pressing hard against my temples.

My mind raced at a million miles an hour, my skin still tingling where he had touched me, the ghost of his fingers lingering like a brand. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe, tried to remember who I’d been before Jaxx had walked into my life and rearranged everything I thought I understood about myself.

"Elena," I whispered to myself, my voice trembling in the dark interior of the car. "The fantasy is over. Time to face the real world."

The car glided through the city streets, the neon glow of skyscrapers and streetlights bleeding into streaks of gold and crimson as we sped past. The city was alive... pulsing, a blur of headlights and shadows, the hum of engines and distant laughter spilling from open doors of bars and clubs.

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, watching as the world outside dissolved into a kaleidoscope of motion, the reflections of my own face flickering back at me... pale, wide-eyed, haunted. I barely recognized the woman staring back. She looked like someone caught between two lives, unsure which one was real anymore.

My fingers curled into fists in my lap, my nails digging into my palms hard enough to sting. The closer we got to the Sinclair Estate, the tighter the knot in my chest became, until it felt like something might snap inside me. The grand iron gates loomed ahead, their intricate designs twisted like the bars of a gilded cage.

My breath hitched as the car slowed, the weight of what I was about to do pressing down on me like a physical force. Every mile had brought me closer to a confrontation I’d delayed for far too long, and now there was no more room left to run.

Graham.

The name alone made my stomach twist, a bitter taste rising in my throat. I could already see him... his perfectly styled hair, his tailored suits, that smug, patronizing smile he wore like a mask. The man I’d once loved with a desperation that blinded me to his cruelty, his lies, his betrayals. The man who’d made me feel small, insignificant, worthless, until I’d finally seen him for what he truly was.

Even now, years of memory pressed against me like a bruise that refused to fade. I could still remember the version of myself who had believed his every promise, and mourning her felt almost as painful as the betrayals themselves.

My jaw clenched, my fingers tightening into white-knuckled fists. "That bastard."

The words hissed between my teeth, raw and venomous. My reflection in the window hardened, my eyes narrowing, my lips pressing into a thin, determined line. No more tears. No more excuses. No more hope that he’d change, that he’d suddenly become the man I’d foolishly believed he could be.

I had given him enough chances to last a lifetime, and every single one had been wasted. Somewhere along the way, hope had curdled into something harder, something closer to resolve than despair.

"No second thoughts, Elena," I whispered to myself, my voice steady, my resolve ironclad. "Graham doesn’t deserve you."

And he never had.

I’d been too blind, too wrapped up in the fantasy of love, in the idea of him, to see the truth staring me in the face. The late nights, the whispered phone calls, the way he’d look at me like I was an inconvenience rather than his wife. The way he’d made me feel like I was lucky to have him, like I should be grateful for his scraps of affection.

I had swallowed so many small humiliations that they’d become a diet I no longer noticed I was surviving on. Looking back now, I marveled at how long I had mistaken starvation for sustenance.

"No use crying over spilled milk."

The car turned onto the long, winding drive leading up to the estate, the towering oaks casting eerie shadows across the pavement. My heart pounded, but not with fear... with rage. With the fire of finally seeing myself clearly. Of knowing my worth. Of understanding that I’d stayed far too long in a cage of my own making, all because I’d been too afraid to walk away. That fear had a name once, but I refused to let it hold power over me any longer.

Not anymore.

I straightened in my seat, squaring my shoulders, lifting my chin. The car rolled to a stop in front of the grand entrance, the double doors looming like the gates of hell itself. Marcus turned slightly, his voice quiet but firm. "Ma’am, we’re here."

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

I stepped out of the car, my heels clicking sharply against the cobblestone, my spine straight, my gaze unflinching. The night air was cool, but I barely felt it. All I felt was the fire burning inside me, the certainty that this... this was the last time I’d ever let Graham Sinclair make me feel like anything less than the queen I was.

I walked toward the double doors, my steps steady, my heart roaring in my ears.

"No more."