Pleading

"I'm leaving," Ivan says again, his voice steady but filled with a chilling finality that freezes me in place. This time, there's no room for argument, no plea I could make that would stop him. He turns on his heel and walks away, leaving me standing there, dumbfounded, the weight of his words crushing me.

My mind races, replaying everything that just happened, every word, every accusation. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I should have known better. I do know better. I pride myself on being different, on not falling into the stereotypical Alpha behavior. But here I am, proving Ivan right—proving that I'm no better than the rest.

I'd done the background checks when we first met, knew about that man's reputation. And yet, I still let this happen.

The camera. The access. It all feels so damning now. At the time, it didn't seem invasive—just a way to make sure Ivan was safe and if I'm being honest I just wanted to watch th e realization making me feel worse.

My hands clench into fists at my sides as the realization sets in. I wasn't thinking. Or worse, maybe I was, but I chose to overlook it.He's right—I crossed a line. His voice echoes in my mind: "There's a massive power difference between us, Zander, and right now, I feel so fucking small. I'm scared."

That last word, scared, cuts deeper than any insult or accusation. The thought that I—of all people—made him feel that way makes me sick to my stomach.

I run a hand through my hair, pacing the room as the reality of what I've done crashes over me. I've failed him in the worst way. He trusted me, and I broke that trust without even realizing it.

What now? How do I fix this? Can I even fix this?

I stop pacing, my eyes landing on the open door Ivan just walked through. My chest tightens as the weight of his absence sinks in. If I let him walk out of my life now, I might lose him forever.

I find Ivan in the master bedroom, his back to me as he hastily packs his bag. My heart clenches at the sight of him—his movements are sharp, deliberate, his shoulders tense with barely contained anger and hurt. This is it, I realize. He's really leaving.

I take a step closer, then another, until I'm directly behind him. Without thinking, I wrap my arms around his waist, holding him close, desperate to stop him.

He flinches.

The reaction is small but unmistakable, and it feels like a knife to my heart. He flinched. At my touch.

I understand it logically—he's angry, hurt, maybe even scared—but it tears me apart all the same. I loosen my grip slightly, my voice trembling as I whisper, "Please don't go."

"Let me go," Ivan says, his tone cold and distant, and it's like ice water being poured over me.

"Please, Ivan, just listen to what I have to say," I beg, my voice cracking. "Five minutes. That's all I'm asking. If you still want to leave after that, I won't stop you. I promise."

He pauses, his hands stilling over his bag. For a moment, the only sound in the room is our uneven breathing. Finally, he lets out a long sigh and relaxes slightly in my arms. It's not much, but it's enough.

I guide him gently to the bed, my hands trembling as I lead him to sit down. His expression is unreadable, his eyes guarded, and I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move away from losing him forever.

I kneel before him, my heart pounding in my chest as I take his hands in mine. They're cold, tense, and I press them to my face, my voice soft and pleading. "Ivan, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. I—God, I made so many stupid, selfish decisions without ever stopping to consider your feelings, your emotions. And you're right. You're absolutely right."

His eyes flicker with something—maybe surprise, maybe skepticism—but he stays silent, letting me continue.

"I don't know if it's because I'm an Alpha or because I've lived my whole life with privilege, but I didn't think. I should've known better. I do know better, and I still messed up. It's not an excuse, but I see now how invasive, how hurtful my actions were. I invaded your privacy, your space, and that's unforgivable."

My voice breaks, tears pooling in my eyes as I grip his hands tighter, desperate to make him understand. "I never wanted to make you feel like this, Ivan. Never. You're not a possession. You're not a pet. You're… everything to me. And I'm so scared right now because I know I've hurt you, and I hate myself for it. Please, please give me another chance. Give us another chance."

Ivan's gaze softens slightly, but his lips remain pressed in a firm line. His silence is deafening, and I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a precipice, the ground crumbling beneath me.