Chapter 46 – The First Betrayal

The room felt too small.

Too charged.

Too filled with his presence—towering, demanding, suffocating.

Leonidas still had her trapped against the wall, his fingers resting against her jaw, his grip no longer tight, but still unyielding.

Waiting for her to break.

To submit.

To tell him he was right.

But she wasn't going to.

Not this time.

Anastasia inhaled deeply, tilting her chin up just slightly, meeting his piercing gaze head-on.

"I wasn't going to meet him," she said, her voice calm but firm.

Leonidas' eyes darkened.

"You expect me to believe that?" His voice was low, edged with something dangerous.

"You read the messages," she said. "I asked him how he got my number. That's all. I didn't invite him anywhere, Leonidas."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his frustration palpable.

"You shouldn't have answered him at all," he muttered, his grip on her loosening, but not disappearing.

"And you shouldn't have gone through my phone," she shot back.

That made him pause.

His fingers finally dropped from her face, but his presence still loomed too close, too intense.

"Is that what you're upset about?" he asked, voice unreadable.

"I'm upset," she said slowly, "because you don't trust me."

A flicker of something almost unreadable passed through his gaze.

Then—his jaw tightened.

"I trust you," he said. "It's him I don't trust."

"Then let me handle it," she said.

His expression darkened instantly.

"You expect me to let you deal with a man who wants to take you from me?" His voice dropped to something lethal.

She crossed her arms. "I expect you to treat me like I can make my own decisions."

Leonidas' gaze flashed.

"You are my wife," he said, his voice low, deliberate. "That means I will protect you—whether you like it or not."

Anastasia didn't back down.

"And being your wife doesn't mean I belong to you like a piece of property, Leonidas."

For the first time, he looked truly thrown.

Like the ground beneath him had shifted, and he didn't know how to stop it.

She could see it—the battle inside him.

The part of him that wanted to possess her completely, to never let her go.

And the part of him that feared pushing too hard and losing her.

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

Then, finally—he stepped back.

Just slightly.

Not fully.

Never fully.

But enough.

Enough to let her breathe.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Anastasia," he murmured.

Her heart pounded.

So was he.

Somewhere in the shadows of Kosta Enterprises, a phone buzzed.

A sleek, untraceable device.

A message popped up.

Victor Ralston: How did he react?

A pause.

Then a reply.

Unknown Contact: As expected. He's losing control over her.

Victor Ralston: Good. Keep feeding the doubt. Make him desperate.

Unknown Contact: What about the next step?

Victor Ralston: We're ready. He thinks the biggest threat is me. He has no idea where the real danger is coming from.

The phone was slipped back into a pocket.

A glass of wine was swirled, the city skyline reflecting against it.

And a quiet chuckle echoed in the dimly lit office.

Leonidas stood alone in their bedroom.

Anastasia was in the en-suite bathroom, the soft sound of water running as she showered.

Normally, he would have joined her.

Would have pinned her against the glass, whispered against her skin, reminded her she was his.

But tonight?

Tonight, she had walked away from him.

Not in body.

Not in the physical sense.

But in something deeper.

She had stood her ground. Refused to bend to his control.

And it terrified him.

Because what if one day, she didn't just stand her ground?

What if one day, she walked away for good?

Leonidas clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the edge of the dresser.

No.

That wasn't going to happen.

Because he wouldn't let it happen.

She was his.

And he would never let her go.

Anastasia stood under the steaming water, her hands pressed against the tiled wall, her mind spinning.

Leonidas had gone through her phone.

Had doubted her.

Had tried to control her.

And for the first time…she wasn't sure if she could forgive it.

Not easily.

Because if he didn't trust her now, what stopped him from doubting her again?

From pushing too far?

From trapping her in a life where her choices no longer mattered?

She closed her eyes, inhaling sharply.

No.

She wouldn't let that happen.

She loved him.

But she would never lose herself for him.

Breakfast was silent.

Leonidas sat at the head of the table, his movements controlled, unreadable.

Anastasia sat across from him, her spine straight, her expression calm but distant.

He didn't like it.

Didn't like this new, careful version of her.

The one who wasn't afraid to push back.

And he knew—if he let this distance stay between them, it would only grow.

So he leaned forward, setting down his coffee cup with deliberate intent.

"Are you still upset with me?"

Anastasia met his gaze.

She didn't smile.

Didn't soften.

"Do you want the truth?"

Leonidas' fingers tightened around his glass.

"Always."

She set her fork down, her movements calm, precise.

"Then yes. I am still upset."

Leonidas exhaled slowly.

"Anastasia—"

"You don't get to demand my trust while refusing to give me yours, Leonidas."

His jaw locked.

She leaned forward slightly.

"I love you. But I am not yours to control."

A dangerous silence settled between them.

Then—

Leonidas smirked.

Not out of amusement.

But out of something darker.

Something possessive.

Something lethal.

"You think you can fight me on this, little one?" he murmured.

She lifted her chin.

"If I have to, I will."

His smirk widened.

Then, in a voice so soft it sent chills down her spine—

"Then let's see who wins."