Chapter 94 - 0094: I Don’t Want To Own You, Elena

Chapter 94: Chapter 0094: I Don’t Want To Own You, Elena

Elena’s Point Of View

He leaned down slightly, bringing his dark eyes flush with mine, his voice dropping into a thick, velvety whisper that sent a traitorous shiver straight down my spine.

"I fucking love it when you look at me like you want to tear my throat out. It’s the only time you actually look alive."

"God, you are insufferable!" I spat, twisting my wrists frantically, trying to pry his long, calloused fingers open one by one. "You think this is funny?! You think dragging me away, ruining my biggest night of the year, and keeping my underwear hostage is some kind of brilliant power move? You’re sick! You need help!"

He lowered his mouth until his warm, scented breath brushed directly against the shell of my ear, his lips almost brushing my sensitive skin. "I think watching you fight me is the absolute best part of my entire week, Elena. I’ve been sitting in that ballroom across from you for two agonizing hours, watching you smile at corporate sharks you hate, watching you pretend to care about Graham’s pathetic small talk. I was bored to death... until I got you behind this locked door."

I jerked my head back, my chest slamming up and down against his, my eyes burning with unshed tears of pure, furious frustration. I yanked at his wrist one last time, my voice cracking entirely. "I said give it back!"

And then, suddenly, Jaxx stilled.

The playful, taunting edge vanished from his posture in a single, terrifying microsecond. The wicked smirk softened, shifting into something infinitely sharper, darker, and vastly more dangerous. The amused gleam in his dark eyes evaporated, replaced by a deep, pitch-black intensity that made the breath freeze solid in my throat. His fingers tightened around the black lace until his knuckles turned pale.

"Wild cat," he murmured. His voice was no longer lazy. It was dropped low, smooth as liquid steel, carrying an absolute, unyielding authority that made every self-preservation instinct in my body scream at me to freeze. "Calm down."

That sudden shift... that flash of raw, terrifying dominance hidden beneath his charismatic surface, rooted me to the spot. My breath hitched, locking in my lungs. The very air in the room seemed to turn heavy, thick, suffocating, coiled tight with an intense, electric tension that made my skin prickle.

Some primal instinct deep inside me recognized, with dread, that this was the real Jaxx beneath all the theatrics ...the man who existed underneath the smirks and the games, and he was infinitely more dangerous than the version I thought I knew.

It occurred to me, in that suspended, airless moment, that I had never once seen him without a mask on until now, and the sight of his bare face terrified me more than anything he’d said all night.

His eyes locked onto mine, unblinking and utterly merciless. And then, in one smooth, fluid motion, he didn’t let go of his wrist... he used his grip on the fabric to yank me forward, dragging my body straight into his until my chest slammed into his broad, hard torso.

I gasped, the air completely knocked out of me. My entire frame went rigid, pinned entirely within the dangerous cage of his proximity. His eyes sank into mine, stripping away my corporate title, my expensive emerald dress, my carefully constructed facade, until I felt completely exposed, raw and vulnerable beneath his gaze.

My pulse spiked to a terrifying speed, thumping so loud in my ears I was convinced he could hear it echoing off his own ribs.

"I’ll give it back to you," Jaxx said softly. His tone was pitched low, almost tender, almost sweet - but his mouth ruined the illusion entirely. That sharp, dangerous line was back on his lips, carved there like cruelty was second nature to him. His broad thumb dragged deliberately across the black lace he held between us, slow, taunting, a quiet reminder of what he had taken from me.

His face hovered inches from mine, his gaze flicking down to my parted, trembling lips before rising back to lock onto my eyes.

"But on one single condition."

My voice was a ruined, trembling whisper before the word even fully formed. "W-what?"

It came out pathetic. Weak. Shaky. I hated myself for sounding like prey that knew it had finally been backed into a corner, hated that this man had the power to make my knees knock together with just a shift in his tone.

"You’re going to listen to me," he said, his voice dropping even lower, vibrating straight through my ribs. "And you’re going to stop lying to yourself for five fucking seconds."

Jaxx took one slow, deliberate step forward.

Pure, instinctual terror flared in my chest, and I took an immediate step back.

He took another step.

I retreated again. The heels of my shoes scuffed against the heavy rug, my breathing turning shallow and fast as the distance between us evaporated into nothing. His presence was overwhelming, a suffocating wall of heat and dangerous intent, relentless and unwavering no matter how far I tried to pull away.

"Jaxx... don’t," I rasped out, the warning sounding entirely useless, even to my own ears. "Just give them to me and let me leave."

"Don’t look so terrified, Elena," he drawled, his voice dipping into a dark purr laced with quiet steel. "I don’t bite."

His eyes glinted with a sudden, wicked fire. "Unless you beg me to, of course."

"I will never beg you for anything," I hissed, trying to summon every drop of venom left in my veins. "You’re delusional if you think I’m afraid of you."

"You’re not afraid of me, Bambina," he murmured, stepping closer until I could feel the feverish heat radiating off his body. "You’re afraid of what happens when you stop pretending."

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like sandpaper. I took one final step backward, and my spine slammed hard into the cold, polished edge of the wooden vanity table. The heavy mahogany bit into my back, unforgiving and rigid.

There was nowhere left to go. I was trapped.

And still, Jaxx didn’t stop. He kept coming until his boots were touching the toes of my heels, until I was forced up, inch by agonizing inch, onto the edge of the high wooden table just to keep from being flattened by his chest.

My hands flew back, gripping the polished wood behind me so tightly my knuckles turned stark white, the room spinning slightly under the sheer weight of his presence. He towered over me, a wall of broad shoulders, crisp dark wool, and lethal authority.

He stepped right between my knees, forcing my legs apart, and leaned down until his face was mere inches from mine.

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

I tried to avert my eyes, staring stubbornly at his crisp lapel, but his free hand came up, long fingers cupping my jaw with a firm, unyielding grip that forced my face up to meet his gaze. His thumb pressed lightly against my lower lip, tracing the trembling contour.

"Look at me, Elena," he repeated, softer this time, but with an edge that cut straight through my defense mechanisms. "How much longer are you going to play this ridiculous part? How many more galas are you going to sit through while that ghost of a man ignores you? How long are you going to wear that ring like a prison sentence?"

"It’s my life, Jaxx!" I choked out, my voice rising, tears of frustration finally pricking at the corners of my eyes. "I built this! I built my career, my reputation, my standing! I’m the CEO! I can’t just throw everything into chaos because you decide to show up and blow up my world!"

"Your world is already dead, sweetheart," Jaxx whispered, his dark eyes burning into mine with terrifying clarity. "You’re just living in the ruins and calling it an empire. He doesn’t see you. He doesn’t know what you look like when you lose control. He doesn’t know how loud you can yell when someone actually pushes you. I do."

"You don’t know anything about me!" I yelled into his face, my chest heaving against his. "You’re just a chaotic, arrogant bastard who thinks he can own whatever he touches!"

"I don’t want to own you, Elena," he purred, his voice dropping into a dark, intoxicating frequency that made my breath hitch. "I want you awake. And right now, the only time you’re awake is when you’re screaming at me."

He lifted the thin scrap of black lace right between our faces, dangling it like a prize between his long fingers.

"So here’s my condition," Jaxx murmured, his voice smooth, dark, and utterly merciless as it cut through the heavy silence of the room. "I’ll give these back to you right now. You can put them back on, fix your hair, walk back out into that glittering ballroom, and sit right back down next to Graham."

He paused, his eyes narrowing, his breath warm against my mouth.

"Or," he continued softly, "you walk back out there, look that pathetic excuse of a husband in the eye, and tell him you want a divorce. Right here. Right now."

My eyes widened in absolute, paralyzing shock. My breath left me in a sharp, ragged gasp. Somewhere beneath the horror, a small, treacherous part of me registered the question not as madness, but as something I had already been asking myself in the dead of night for longer than I cared to admit, in the hollow hours when Graham’s side of the bed stayed cold and untouched.

"You... you’re insane," I whispered, my voice trembling violently. "You can’t ask me to do that!"

Jaxx leaned in even closer, so close I could see the tiny gold flecks dancing in his dark irises, so close his lips brushed against mine as he spoke.

"Tell him you’re done with his bullshit," Jaxx commanded softly, his dark voice wrapping around my neck like a velvet leash. "Tell him to go to hell, throw his ring on the floor, and walk out those doors with me. Do that..."

His smirk bloomed... pure, unadulterated, lethal challenge.

"...and I’ll give you your clothes back, Bambina. Otherwise, you’re walking back to your seat completely bare underneath that dress, knowing every time you sit down that I have your lace in my pocket."