He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. “I’m doing this to protect you,” he says, his voice low and intense. “There are things you don’t understand, things I can’t explain right now. But everything I do, I do for you.”

His words strike a nerve, and the anger I’ve been holding back erupts. “Protect me? By keeping me in the dark? By treating me like a pawn in your game?”

My hands tremble with rage, and I grasp the delicate fabric of my wedding dress. “If this isn’t real to you, then why should it be to me?”

I tear at the dress, feeling a twisted satisfaction as the fabric shreds under my fingers. The delicate lace and satin give way easily, the sound of ripping material filling the space between us.

“You want to protect me? Then stop hiding behind your excuses and give me the truth!”

Alex’s eyes widen in shock and anger. “What are you doing? Stop it!” He reaches out, but I step back, ripping the dress further until it hangs in tatters around me. The once-beautiful gown is now a ruin, a physical manifestation of my frustration and hurt.

“Why won’t you let me in?” I cry, tears of rage and sorrow spilling down my cheeks. “Why won’t you let this be real?”

He stands there, his chest heaving, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. “Because I’m scared!” he finally yells, his voice breaking.

His confession hits me like a punch to the gut, and I pause, my breath hitching. “Scared?” I whisper, my anger momentarily giving way to confusion. “Of what?”

“Of getting you killed!” he says, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Of the dangers that come with my life, of the enemies I’ve made, of the possibility that I might not be able to protect you from them.”

The raw honesty in his voice shakes me, and I feel my anger begin to dissipate. “Alex, I can’t live in fear,” I say softly, taking a step closer to him.

“I chose to be with you, to stand by your side. But I need you to trust me, to let me in. We can’t build a life together if you keep shutting me out.”

He looks at me, his eyes filled with anger. “You don’t get to control this situation. I’m in charge. That’s how you stay alive, letting me run things, not fighting me.”

“Fuck you,” I reply, reaching out to touch his cheek. “We can face whatever comes together. But you have to let me in.” I rip another section of dress. “Or shall I keep going?”

Alex’s eyes darken, and in a flash, he’s on me, tearing away the remnants of the dress. “You want to play games?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “Fine. But there are consequences.”

Before I can react, he pulls me over his knee and lands a sharp, stinging slap on my bare bottom. I gasp, a mix of pain and unexpected arousal coursing through me. He spanks me again, harder this time, and I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips.

“You think you can defy me?” he murmurs, his hand rubbing the reddened skin soothingly before delivering another smack. “You belong to me, Bella. Do you understand? I own you.”

“You don’t own me,” I reply, my body trembling with desire.

“You sure?” he asks, sliding a hand between my legs. “Your body sure seems to think I do.”

“Fuck you.”

He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed. His strength and the firmness of his grip send a thrill through me, a mix of fear and excitement that quickens my breath.

He lays me down gently, his hands already working to tie my wrists to the headboard with practiced ease. The ropes are tight but not painful, a reminder of my submission, holding me in place and leaving me at his mercy.

The realization that I am completely helpless, bound and exposed, sends a shiver through me. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of terror and exhilaration. The ropes dig slightly into my skin, the sensation grounding me even as my mind begins to spiral.

Alex steps back, his eyes raking over my body with a possessive hunger. His presence is overwhelming, a force that I can’t help but be drawn to.

He moves with deliberate slowness, his fingers grazing my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Every touch is electric, igniting a fire within me that burns hotter with each passing second.

He starts at my neck, his lips brushing against my skin, his tongue flicking out to taste me. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through me, and I can’t help the soft moan that escapes my lips. His hands roam over my body, caressing, teasing, his touch both soothing and maddening.

“Do you like this?” he murmurs against my ear, his breath hot and tantalizing.

“Yes,” I breathe, my voice trembling with need.

He smiles, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Good.”

His hands move lower, exploring every curve, every sensitive spot, leaving me gasping and writhing beneath him.