Blame
She pushed herself upright with a startled gasp. "Where's my father?!"
Before he could answer, she shoved the blankets aside and attempted to stand, but the floor shifted beneath her feet. Her knees buckled and the room spun wildly. Before she hit the ground, strong arms caught her.
"Careful," he said, his voice low and firm.
"Let me go!" she snapped, squirming in his grip. "I have to find him!"
Alexander didn't release her immediately. He guided her back to the edge of the bed and forced her to sit. "You're not going anywhere in this state."
"Don't tell me what to do," she spat, pulling away. "My father could be hurt—he could be dying! I have to find him!"
His hand pressed gently against her shoulder, not to hurt, but to ground her. "You were drugged, Elena. You can barely stand. If you walk out of here, you'll collapse before you reach the elevator."
"I don't care!" she cried, standing again. This time she made it two steps before stumbling.
Alexander caught her again, faster, tighter. This time, he didn't let go.
"Elena, listen to me—those thugs haven't been found yet. They may still be looking for you. If you go out there like this, you're walking into danger again."
She froze in his arms. Her breath quickened. That word—again—made her skin crawl.
Her fists balled. Her chest heaved. And then it hit her like a cold wave.
"This… all of this…" Her voice trembled. "It's because of you."
Alexander didn't react.
"My father's company, his reputation, our fall from grace… it was you who started it." Her eyes filled with hot, stinging tears. "If you hadn't ruined us, my uncle wouldn't be in debt. He wouldn't have blamed us. He wouldn't have sent men to sell me like I'm some damn object!"
"Elena—"
She slammed her fists into his chest. Hard.
He let her.
"You did this!" she shouted, pounding again and again. "You started this chain reaction! You destroyed my father, and now I might lose him. If anything—anything—happens to him, I swear, Alexander Knight, I will kill you myself!"
He grabbed her wrists—not forcefully, but enough to still her. His eyes never left hers, their usual cold steel now burning with something else.
"You're angry," he said calmly. "You have every right to be. But don't waste that fury on the wrong person."
"The wrong person?!" she snarled. "You bought his company! You stripped him of everything he'd worked for. You humiliated my family. Don't stand there and pretend like you weren't the cause of it all!"
"I didn't send men to kidnap you. I didn't ask for your father to gamble with power he didn't have," he replied coolly.
She ripped her arms free and stepped back, ignoring the pain that shot through her muscles.
"So it's his fault now?" she whispered bitterly. "You come from your goddamn high-rise penthouse, hand me a contract to marry you like it's a game, and now you want to paint him as the fool?"
Alexander's expression darkened. "I gave you that contract because I knew how bad things had become for you and your father. And yes, he made bad deals—he lied to investors, Elena. You might not want to face that, but it's true."
Elena looked away, jaw clenched, tears sliding silently down her cheek. She hated that part of her knew he was right. Her father had lied. He had borrowed and lost more than he could return.
But did that justify the ruin? The violence? Her trafficking?
"No daughter should have to pay for her father's sins," she whispered, broken.
Alexander didn't answer immediately. He crossed the room, grabbed a small bottle of water from a side table, opened it, and returned to hand it to her.
"Drink," he ordered.
She glared at him, but her throat was dry like sandpaper. She snatched it and drank greedily, the cool water sliding down like a balm.
"You need to cool your system," he said after a pause. "You were overheated. The drug they used was a sedative laced with a stimulant—it messes with the body. That's why I had to put you in the tub."
Her head snapped up. "You what?"
He raised a brow. "You were sweating. Restless. I called security, but when I realized you'd been drugged, I couldn't wait. I soaked you in cold water to prevent a seizure. Don't worry—I didn't see anything you wouldn't show on a beach."
She flushed, fury and humiliation swirling together. "I didn't ask for your help."
"No," he agreed. "But you needed it."
The silence was thick between them. Alexander didn't move, didn't speak further. He simply watched her. Observing. Calculating. But not cold—no, there was something warmer in his gaze. Something he didn't yet admit, maybe even to himself.
Elena sat back down on the bed, exhausted.
"Where am I?" she asked quietly.
"Private penthouse suite. One of my properties. It's secured. No one can get in without going through four levels of clearance."
"And my father?"
"I have people looking. As soon as I know something, you'll be the first to hear."
Her heart thudded in her chest. " they hurt him, what if they take him?…"
"They won't," Alexander said. "Because I'll find them first."
She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you even doing this? Why do you care?"
He didn't answer right away. "Because I can."
"Not good enough."
"Maybe not." His voice dropped lower. "But I don't let what belongs to me get taken. Not without a fight."
The words made her stiffen. Her?
Belong?
She hated how the heat rose in her cheeks—not from the drug, not from anger, but from him. And the raw, dangerous way he said those words.
She stared at him. "You don't own me, Alexander."
A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Not yet."
She stood, shakily but determined. "Stay away from me."
He moved aside without resistance. "Don't step outside the door without me. Or you'll be back in a van, or worse."
She paused at the threshold of the room, her fingers trembling on the doorknob. "If you're lying about helping my father—if this is another power play…"
He stepped closer, towering just slightly, voice a dark murmur in her ear.
"I don't play, Elena."