Chapter 39 - 0039: That’s A Promise, Princess

Chapter 39: Chapter 0039: That’s A Promise, Princess

Elena’s Point Of View

My back met the cool wall, and I gasped, not from pain, but from the raw, intoxicating heat radiating off his body. Jaxx didn’t waste a single second. He pressed himself flush against me, his heavy weight trapping me, one leg sliding forcefully between mine until his thigh was wedged right against my core.

My pulse roared in my ears, drowning out every rational thought I’d walked in here with. I could feel the frantic thrum of my own heartbeat against my ribs, a wild counterpoint to the deceptively lazy way he moved, as though he had all the time in the world to unravel me.

He always had, even ten years ago, when I’d mistaken that unhurried confidence for something softer than the danger it actually was.

His hand slithered up under the deep slit of my dress, rough palm skimming over the bare, trembling skin of my inner thigh. I hated how my body betrayed me, arching subtly toward his touch even as my mind screamed at me to push him away.

Ten years should have been enough to erase this pull, this maddening current that seemed to run only between the two of us. Apparently, it hadn’t been enough at all. I’d told myself so many lies over the years that I’d almost believed them... almost convinced myself I was a different woman now, immune to a man like him.

"What are you doing, Bambina?" he whispered, his hot breath dancing against the shell of my ear and making every tiny hair on my neck stand on end. "Ain’t you supposed to hate me?"

I shivered, my head falling back against the door. The wood felt cold and unforgiving against my scalp, a stark contrast to the furnace of a man pressed against me. Somewhere beneath the haze of alcohol and panic, a small, traitorous part of me wondered if I’d orchestrated this collision on purpose, if some buried piece of me had wanted an excuse to feel his hands on me again. The thought terrified me more than anything he could have said or done in that moment.

Damn him. Damn the way his voice sounded like pure sin... like thick smoke, expensive bourbon, and trouble wrapped in leather. It sank straight under my skin, pulling at parts of me I thought had died years ago, parts I’d buried so deep I convinced myself they no longer existed.

I’d spent a decade telling myself that version of me was gone, burned away by all the years of silence between us. Standing here now, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe some things didn’t burn away so easily. Maybe they just waited, patient and quiet, for the right spark to bring them roaring back.

"It’s just the alcohol," I muttered, my breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches. I refused to meet his dark, predatory gaze, fixing my eyes instead on the collar of his shirt, the strong column of his throat... anywhere but those eyes that seemed to see straight through every lie I told myself. "Don’t flatter yourself."

"Is that what we’re calling it now?" he murmured, brushing his mouth just beside mine and tracing the sensitive curve of my jawline. He teased me, not quite giving me the kiss my body was traitorously begging for. "Because that felt like something real out there. Felt a lot like you were starving, princess."

I scoffed, trying to inject some venom into the sound, though it came out weak and breathless. My chest heaved, betraying the calm I was desperately trying to project. "You’re not that special, Jaxx."

"Liar." His voice dropped, dark, smooth, and laced with absolute amusement. "Your pulse is screaming louder than your mouth."

I narrowed my eyes, bringing both palms up to push hard against his solid chest. Not hard enough to actually move a man his size... not really, but he got the hint anyway. He stepped back just enough for a shocking rush of cool air to flood between our bodies, though his eyes never left mine for a fraction of a second.

I hated how empty that small distance suddenly felt, how quickly my body missed the very weight I’d just fought to escape. It was infuriating, this hunger that refused to listen to reason.

"I needed to get someone off my back," I snapped, my trembling fingers scrambling to pull down the bunched-up violet silk of my dress. "You were literally the closest human male next to me."

He walked backward a few steps and leaned his hips against the edge of his massive mahogany desk, crossing his tattooed forearms like he had all the time in the world. He cocked one dark brow at me, and the sheer arrogance of the gesture made my blood boil.

There was something maddening about how comfortable he looked, how utterly unbothered, while I stood there trying to remember how to breathe normally. Ten years apart, and he still knew exactly how to make me feel like the only unsteady thing in the room.

"And you couldn’t think of anything other than kissing me?"

"It was effective, wasn’t it?" I bit back, crossing my arms over my chest to hide the sharp rise and fall of my breathing, praying he couldn’t see just how rattled I truly was.

He smirked... that devilish, crooked smirk I remembered from ten years ago, the kind of arrogant smile that used to make girls drop their defenses without a second thought. Apparently, a decade hadn’t dulled its effect on me either. I hated that I still remembered every version of that smile, hated that my body seemed to have kept a record my mind had tried so hard to destroy. It felt like betrayal, this quiet, stubborn memory.

"Oh, very," he said, his tone slow, sultry, and infuriatingly confident. "Especially the way you moaned a little right at the end. Think I imagined that part, Elena?"

"I hate you," I growled, my teeth grinding together so hard my jaw ached.

"It’s mutual, Bambina."

My breath hitched sharply in my chest. That name. He still used that damn name, dropping it off his tongue so casually, like I hadn’t spent the last decade trying to erase every single trace of our bitter, complicated history from my mind. Hearing it now felt like being pulled backward through time, straight into memories I’d sworn to leave buried.

I could almost hear the echo of a younger version of myself laughing at something he’d said, back before everything between us had turned to ash. That girl had believed in forever. This woman knew better, or at least she’d thought she did until tonight.

Unable to stand the sheer intensity of his stare any longer, I looked away and studied the room where he’d locked us in instead, desperate for something, anything, to anchor my scattered thoughts.

The room was stunning. Black velvet walls, heavy gold accents, low ambient lighting spilling from sleek recessed fixtures - everything about the space practically screamed absolute, unchecked luxury. It smelled of rich tobacco, cedarwood, and the faint, expensive scent of his cologne, a combination that felt disturbingly familiar even after all these years.

Some faint memory stirred at the back of my mind, of another room, another night, when that same scent had clung to my skin for days afterward. I remembered burying my face in a pillow just to keep it close a little longer, though I’d never admitted that to anyone, least of all myself. But I didn’t have the time, or the sanity, to sit here and admire it.

Because suddenly, the floorboards didn’t make a sound, yet he was right in front of me again, completely caging me in with his overwhelming presence. My heart lurched at how easily he moved, like a predator who knew he’d already won.

"You know," he murmured, stalking toward me like a panther closing in on cornered prey, "I could sue you."

I blinked, taking a sharp step back until my shoulder blades hit the heavy wood of the door again. "Excuse me?"

He smirked again, stopping so close I could feel the heat radiating off his chest through my dress. "For assault. Unwanted touching. For nearly giving me a heart attack in a public booth."

"You’re unbelievable," I gasped out, a dry, incredulous laugh escaping my lips despite the tightness gripping my chest.

"And you’re drunk. And reckless. And in my private space now." He tilted his head, his dark eyes scanning every inch of my flushed face like he was cataloging each flicker of emotion. "Care to explain what that little performance was really about? Or should I guess?"

I swallowed hard, the knot in my throat feeling like lead. "You saw him, didn’t you?"

"The dude in the thousand-dollar suit that looked like he wanted to murder me with his bare hands?" Jaxx asked, his voice dripping with dry irony.

"That’s my husband," I said, staring him dead in the eyes this time, waiting for the impact of the word to land.

Jaxx’s expression didn’t change... not even a blink. Then he let out a low, slow whistle through his teeth, the sound somehow more unsettling than any outburst could have been.

"Damn. And here I thought you were just dramatic, not deranged."

"It’s complicated!" I snapped, my voice echoing off the black velvet walls, sounding smaller than I intended.

"It always is with you, princess."

I looked away, tension rolling through my spine like a live wire. "He and his family... they’ve been controlling my every move for five long years. Judging me. Treating me like an incubator, like a piece of property they bought at an auction. I had to make a point. I had to show him I wasn’t his little doll anymore."

My voice cracked slightly on the last words, and I hated myself for it. Five years of swallowed protests and silent compliance rose in my throat all at once, threatening to spill out in front of the one man I’d never wanted to see me this exposed. Even now, some stubborn pride in me fought against the urge to let him see just how deep those wounds ran.

"And I was your point?" Jaxx asked softly, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

"You were the closest man with a pulse!" I exploded, throwing my hands up in the air, years of pent-up frustration finally spilling out. "I didn’t have time to shop around for a fake lover, Jaxx! I saw a booth, I saw a guy, I took a drink, and I pulled you into it! I didn’t have time to think!"

Silence settled over the room, thick, heavy, and suffocating. I could hear my own heartbeat, could feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on both of us. For a moment, neither of us moved, as if speaking again might shatter whatever fragile truce had formed in that silence. I studied his face, searching for some crack in that infuriating composure, some sign that this affected him even a fraction as much as it affected me.

Then Jaxx stepped closer again, eliminating every last millimeter of space between us. He lowered his voice, his dark eyes softening just a fraction, but still burning with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

"And what now, Elena?" he whispered, his tone dropping into a quiet, dangerous register. "You think you can just crawl into my world, use me to shake your husband, and walk away untouched?"

I froze, the air locking solid in my lungs. Every instinct told me to run, yet my feet remained rooted to the spot, as though some traitorous part of me needed to hear his answer more than it needed to escape.

"I didn’t mean to..."

He cut me off completely by reaching up, taking a stray strand of my dark hair, and slowly twirling it around his long index finger. His knuckles brushed against the sensitive skin of my cheek, and the gentleness of the gesture felt almost more dangerous than his earlier aggression. It would have been easier, somehow, if he’d simply been cruel.

This quiet tenderness undid me far more thoroughly, peeling back years of careful armor with nothing more than a single, feather-light touch.

"Oh, but you did," he murmured, his voice a low, rough rumble. "And now we’ve got a problem."

"What problem?" I squeaked out, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I was certain he could hear it.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, down to the soft slope of my cheek, each point of contact leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

"You tasted good, Bambina," he whispered, his hot breath fanning across my skin. "Too damn good."

I felt my knees weaken instantly, my heels slipping slightly on the polished floor. I gripped the doorframe behind me for support, terrified that if I let go, I might actually fall into him. Every ounce of self-preservation I’d cultivated over the last decade seemed to dissolve under the weight of his proximity, leaving behind only the desperate, humiliating truth of how badly I still wanted him.

"You think I’m the same man you left behind ten years ago?" he murmured against my jawline, his voice dark, possessive, and entirely devoid of mercy. "You’re wrong. I’ve changed, Elena. I built an empire out of blood and spite. And if you keep playing with fire..."

He cupped my jaw firmly with his large, calloused hand, his thumb dragging slowly, heavily along my swollen bottom lip, pulling it down just enough to expose my teeth.

"...you’ll burn."

I swallowed hard, my fingers twitching against my sides, my heart slamming into my throat as I stared up into the eyes of the man I was supposed to hate. Ten years of carefully constructed walls felt like they were crumbling in real time, each brick giving way beneath the sheer force of his nearness. Some distant, rational part of me understood that I should have been afraid. Instead, all I felt was the terrifying pull of wanting to fall.

"Is that a threat, Jaxx?" I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound unaffected.

His thumb pressed harder against my lip, his smirk dark and utterly unforgiving.

"That’s a promise, princess."