Chapter 15: Alessio Claims His Prize
Alessio had won.
He could see it, feel it.
Elena wasn't fighting anymore.
Her body was soft, pliant.
Her lips were kiss-swollen, her breath uneven.
She had given in.
And that meant she belonged to him now.
He lifted his hand, tracing his thumb over her lower lip.
She shivered.
Not in fear.
Not in hatred.
But in something else.
Something deeper, darker.
Alessio's smirk was slow, knowing.
"Look at you," he murmured, his voice like silk laced with steel.
Elena swallowed hard.
Her hands were still clutching his shirt, as if she couldn't bring herself to let go.
He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
"You're mine now, piccola."
She tensed.
For a second, her fire reignited.
"I—"
Alessio's grip tightened on her hips, pulling her flush against him.
The words died in her throat.
Her breath hitched.
She felt every inch of him.
His strength. His heat. His control.
Alessio exhaled, his lips skimming her jaw.
"You can deny it all you want," he whispered. "But we both know the truth."
Elena's nails dug into his chest.
Not to push him away.
Not anymore.
His smirk deepened.
Alessio knew what she needed.
Knew she was drowning in something she didn't understand.
Knew that all he had to do…
Was push her just a little further.
And then—
She would never escape him.
Because he wasn't just taking her body.
He was taking her soul.
And once Alessio owned something…
He never let it go.
Elena could still hear her own breath—ragged, unsteady.
She had lost.
And he knew it.
Alessio's fingers were still on her lips, his touch light but commanding, as if he were testing the way she reacted to him.
The way she shuddered at the smallest contact.
The way her body no longer fought, but surrendered.
A slow, satisfied smirk curved his lips.
"Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and taunting.
Elena wanted to deny it.
Wanted to push him away, to scream, to fight.
But she didn't.
Her fingers were still tangled in his shirt, still clutching onto him.
She was holding onto the very man she swore she hated.
Alessio saw it all.
Felt it.
He tilted her chin up with two fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze.
The silver in his eyes was molten now, dark with satisfaction.
He had her.
And he wasn't going to let her forget it.
"You're mine now, piccola," he murmured.
Elena's pulse thundered.
She opened her mouth—to deny it, to throw some last shred of defiance in his face—
But before she could speak, his grip tightened on her hips.
Firm. Unyielding.
He pulled her flush against him, trapping her between his body and the cold, unrelenting wall.
She sucked in a breath.
And froze.
Because she felt him.
Felt the strength in his hold.
Felt the hard, undeniable proof of his desire pressing against her stomach.
Her entire body locked up.
Alessio saw it.
And he smirked.
"You feel that?" he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.
She hated him.
She hated herself more.
Because her traitorous body reacted to him.
Her breathing was too quick, too shallow.
Her lips still tingled from his kiss.
And the worst part?
He hadn't even truly touched her yet.
Alessio ran his fingers down her throat, slow and deliberate, his touch barely there but impossible to ignore.
"You can keep pretending," he said softly. "Keep telling yourself you have a choice."
His lips brushed the shell of her ear.
"But we both know you don't."
Elena's stomach twisted.
A mix of rage, confusion, and something deeper.
Something she didn't want to name.
Because if she did…
She wasn't sure she'd ever recover.
Her voice was shaky when she finally spoke.
"You're a monster."
Alessio chuckled, the sound low and knowing.
"Good," he murmured, pressing his lips against her throat.
And then—he claimed her.
Completely.