Chapter 5

Elena sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the floor. Her fists clenched in her lap, nails biting into her palms.

She had thought she could escape. That she could slip away while Alexander slept, disappear into the city, and take control of her life again.

But she had been wrong.

The men at the gate—the debt collectors, the predators who saw her as payment—had shattered that illusion.

She was trapped.

Her breath came out shaky as she recalled the moment she had looked back at Alexander, her heart hammering with the sick realization that he had known all along.

He had let her go because he wanted her to see the truth for herself.

She hated him for that.

A sharp knock on the door made her jump.

“Elena.”

His voice. Deep. Steady. Unbothered.

She squeezed her eyes shut and ignored him.

A pause. Then, “Open the door.”

She remained still, breathing heavily.

A moment later, the handle turned. Of course, it wasn’t locked. Why would it be? This wasn’t her real room—it was just another gilded cage he had placed her in.

The door swung open, and Alexander stepped inside.

He was dressed in a crisp black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his posture as composed as ever. His eyes flickered over her—assessing, calculating.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then he exhaled sharply and crossed his arms. “How long are you going to sulk?”

Rage flared in her chest. She shot up from the bed. “Sulking? Is that what you think I’m doing?”

His lips twitched, as if he was barely holding back a smirk. “I think you’re throwing a tantrum.”

Her hands shook. “You tricked me.”

“I gave you a choice,” he said coolly.

Her jaw clenched. “You knew they were out there. You knew I couldn’t leave.”

His expression remained unreadable. “And yet, you still tried.”

Something about his tone—like he had been expecting her to fight, like he had known exactly how she would react—made her stomach churn.

She took a shaky breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Would you have believed me?”

She opened her mouth—then hesitated.

Would she have?

If he had warned her about the men outside, she probably would have accused him of lying, of manipulating her into staying. She would have run anyway.

Realizing this only made her angrier.

She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. “So what now? I’m just stuck here forever?”

His silence stretched between them.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter than before. “You’re safe here.”

Her breath hitched.

She turned to face him again. “Safe?” she repeated bitterly. “You think I feel safe?”

His jaw ticked. “Safer than you would out there.”

Her pulse pounded in her ears. He wasn’t wrong, and that was what made this worse. She wasn’t in control of her life anymore, but at least she wasn’t being hunted.

The weight of that realization settled deep in her bones.

She sank back onto the bed, suddenly exhausted. “I can’t do this,” she whispered.

Alexander watched her carefully. “You don’t have a choice.”

Her nails dug into the mattress. There has to be a way out.

Her mind spun with possibilities. Maybe she could find someone—anyone—who could help. Maybe—

A soft buzz interrupted her thoughts.

Alexander reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his expression shifting the moment he glanced at the screen.

Elena caught the briefest flicker of irritation in his features before he schooled his face into its usual unreadable mask.

He sighed and slid the phone back into his pocket. “Get dressed.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You need clothes,” he said simply. “We’re going out.”

Elena stared at him, waiting for the catch. “Out? As in, outside this house?”

He nodded.

Her pulse quickened. Could this be an opportunity?

“Why would you take me anywhere?” she asked cautiously.

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Because you look like you don’t belong here.”

Her face heated. She had been wearing the same clothes since yesterday—her waitress uniform, now wrinkled and slightly dirty. Compared to the pristine perfection of his mansion, she didn’t belong.

Not that she wanted to.

She straightened her shoulders. “Fine. But I’m picking my own clothes.”

“Obviously.”

His agreement threw her off, but she didn’t argue.

She had no idea what to expect, but if he was really taking her into the city, she had to stay alert.

Because this time, she wouldn’t make a mistake.

—

The car ride was silent.

Elena sat stiffly in the back seat beside Alexander, her fingers gripping the hem of her uniform.

The city lights flashed past the tinted windows, a reminder of the life she had once had—the life that had been stolen from her.

The driver pulled up in front of an upscale boutique, and Elena’s stomach twisted.

Of course. It wouldn’t be a normal store. It had to be his kind of store.

She stepped out, her shoes hitting the sleek pavement. The boutique was elegant, its window displays filled with designer dresses and luxury handbags.

“This is unnecessary,” she muttered under her breath.

Alexander ignored her and gestured toward the entrance. “Go inside.”

She clenched her jaw and obeyed.

The moment she stepped in, a sleekly dressed woman approached with a warm but professional smile.

“Mr. Calloway,” she greeted. “A pleasure, as always.”

Elena glanced at Alexander, narrowing her eyes. He comes here often?

The woman’s gaze shifted to her. “And this must be—”

“Elena,” Alexander said smoothly. “She’ll be picking out some things.”

The woman nodded and gestured toward the racks of expensive clothing. “Of course. Take your time.”

Elena turned to Alexander. “Are you seriously expecting me to wear—” She motioned to a row of thousand-dollar dresses. “This?”

He lifted a brow. “Would you prefer I pick for you?”

Her stomach twisted.

She huffed and turned away. “I’ll do it myself.”

She wandered through the boutique, her fingers grazing the fabric. Everything was absurdly expensive, far beyond anything she could have afforded before.

She grabbed a few things—simple blouses, jeans, nothing flashy—and carried them toward the fitting rooms.

She hesitated before stepping inside, glancing over her shoulder at Alexander. He was watching her, his expression unreadable.

A strange sensation curled in her stomach.

She shook it off and went inside.

—

When she stepped out wearing a fitted pair of jeans and a soft cream sweater, she expected Alexander to barely react.

Instead, his gaze swept over her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

For the first time since she had met him, she had the upper hand.

She folded her arms. “Well?”

He tilted his head slightly. “It’ll do.”

Elena smirked. Good. He doesn’t get to control everything.

But as they left the boutique, stepping back into the cool night air, she couldn’t shake the feeling that things were only getting more complicated.

And that escaping him wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought.