CHAPTER SIXTEEN

We continued exploring the Isle, wandering through secluded paths that twisted and turned through dense trees, before stopping at ridges that overlooked the sprawling lake. His hand constantly brushed against mine, and sometimes, his lips would find my skin in soft, fleeting kisses that made my breath catch every time. There was an ease between us, a sense of comfort I hadn't expected, but couldn't deny.

As the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, he took me to a place called Ferry Pointe, a restaurant that overlooked the vast lake.

The building itself was modern, with wide glass windows that offered a stunning view of the water, the golden hues of the setting sun reflecting off its surface. Alexander explained that the restaurant was named after the drop-off and pick-up location for tourists—a place he hadn't shown me, for obvious reasons.

Alexander, ever the gentleman, opened the car door for me again, his hand extended as he helped me out. The sound of the lake's gentle waves lapping against the shore filled the air, accompanied by the warmth of the late afternoon sun, which bathed the entire scene in a soft, amber light.

"I had them close the restaurant just for us," he said with a grin as he led me inside, his hand never leaving mine. "Thought we deserved some privacy today."

I appreciated the gesture more than I could express. The staff greeted us with reverence, their eyes lowered in deep respect as they stepped aside to let us pass.

The atmosphere was intimate, with only the two of us in the space, and as he led me to a table closest to the water, I could feel the calming effect of the lake's presence. Alexander pulled out a chair for me, his smile warm and inviting as I sat down. Once we settled, a light spread of fresh seafood and drinks was brought out to us, and I couldn't help but feel relieved when I saw that it was all visibly what it seemed—just seafood.

As we began to eat, Alexander looked across the table at me, his eyes searching mine. "What do you think of the Isle now?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with that ever-present intensity.

I paused, taking in the scenery, the peacefulness of the moment. "It's… overwhelming," I admitted. "There's so much more to it than I thought."

He nodded, his gaze steady, absorbing my words as he leaned back in his chair.

"Stygian Isle is more than what you've experienced so far. It's an enigmatic gem. The world only sees the surface, but there's so much more beneath it. The geography of is designed to protect our way of life, to keep our traditions safe."

I nodded, letting his words settle in as I gazed out at the lake, watching as the sun began to sink lower, its reflection shimmering across the water. We continued talking as the light of the day began to fade, the warm glow of the setting sun casting long shadows over the lake. Our conversation was lighter now, more personal. Alexander had a way of drawing things out of me, making me feel like I could share anything with him, no matter how small or trivial.

"What's one thing you've always wanted but never got?"

I paused, thinking it over before the answer slipped out naturally. "A dog."

His brows raised in surprise. "A... dog?"

I laughed softly, a little embarrassed. "I know, it seems silly, but yes. I've always wanted one. I just never had the time for one. Between work and… well, you know."

He watched me for a moment, his expression softening in a way I hadn't expected. "Yes, deliciae ," he murmured, "I do know, but I still love to sit and listen to you talk."

His words sent a warm flush through me, and I felt myself smiling, despite everything. It was so simple, the way he said it. I could tell he was content listening to me ramble on about something as mundane as wanting a pet. "I never thought I'd be sitting here, talking about something like that with you," I admitted.

His smile deepened, his eyes never leaving mine. "You'd be surprised what I enjoy hearing from you, Lolita."

There was a warmth in his gaze, a mixture of amusement and affection that made me feel... seen.

I realized that no matter how twisted or dark this world was, there was a space carved out for just us. He grew silent after a moment, his gaze drifting out toward the lake as the last of the sun's light danced on the water. The easy conversation between us faded into the quiet sounds of the evening, leaving a stillness that seemed to settle over everything.

I found myself studying his side profile, captivated by how striking he was, even when lost in thought. His face, chiseled with an almost ethereal beauty, had a symmetry that was both intimidating and mesmerizing. His skin was flawless, a bronze, brown shade that stood in sharp contrast to the onyx hue of his hair, which fell elegantly, framing his features in a way that made him appear almost otherworldly. There was a brooding intensity in his demeanor that was hard to ignore as if his thoughts were never far from the darkness that surrounded us.

The most captivating part of him, what always drew me in, were his eyes. They glistened with a fiery intensity, catching the light in a way that made them seem to burn with an inner flame. In moments like this, they seemed far away, like they held countless secrets and ambitions I could barely begin to understand. The faint scar that graced his otherwise perfect features was a subtle imperfection that only reminded me that despite the facade of control and power, there were parts of him that weren't untouched by the world.

"You're gorgeous."

He turned to me instantly, his intense gaze locking onto mine, the weight of his attention fully on me. The air between us shifted, the quiet moment breaking with the force of my unintended confession. His brow lifted slightly, a slow grin forming on his lips as he studied me with a renewed interest. "Gorgeous, am I?" he asked, his voice low, teasing, yet there was an edge of sincerity beneath it.

I flushed, not meaning to have said it aloud. Now that it was out there, I couldn't take it back. "Yeah," I mumbled, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "You are."

His smile deepened, his hand reaching across the table to gently brush his fingers against mine. I tried to laugh it off, but the intensity of the moment clung to us, the air around us heavy with unspoken emotions. I couldn't explain it, but the connection between us deepened even more as if that simple comment had pulled us closer.

He reached up to cup my face. His thumb brushed lightly against my cheek, the touch almost reverent as he studied me, as though he could see every detail in perfect clarity "And you," he implored "are stunning." His eyes roamed over my face with an intensity that left me speechless. "At first glance," he began, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw, "it's your eyes that pull people in. They remind me of something timeless and untouchable."

He smiled and I was suddenly all too aware of how close he'd gotten. "Your skin," he continued, his fingers brushing against my cheek again, "is like silk. Soft, warm, flawless. And your hair, when it catches the light exactly right, those undertones shimmer like gold."

I was completely lost, his words weaving around me like a spell, holding me captive. I'd never thought of myself this way, never imagined someone could see me with such vivid detail.

"But it's your dimples," he added, his grin widening just a little. "Those dimples of yours—those are what disarm me the most. They give you this innocence, this playfulness that contrasts with everything else. And when you smile..." He paused, his thumb grazing over the corner of my lip. "It's devastating."

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"You have no idea, do you?" he questioned, leaning in even closer. "How beautiful you are. How everything about you captivates me. I love sitting here, listening to you talk, watching you smile, seeing you just be…you," he continued softly.

There was no way to respond to that. All I could do was stare up at him, speechless, my breath shallow as his gaze held mine. Alexander's hand moved from my cheek to grip my chin, his fingers firm but careful as he tilted my face up toward him. Before I could process it, his mouth was on mine, claiming me with a kiss that left no room for hesitation. It was deep, consuming, and impossibly intense.

His lips pressed against mine with a hunger that sent a shockwave of heat through me as if he had been holding back for too long and couldn't wait for another second. The force of it left me breathless, and I found myself melting into him, my hands instinctively reaching for his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as I tried to steady myself.

Every part of me responded to him, as though my body had been waiting for this, waiting for him to pull me under, to take me to a place I didn't fully understand but couldn't resist. His tongue teased the seam of my lips, and I opened for him, letting him deepen the kiss until it became something more.

His hand slipped to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his kiss grew even more fervent. I couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything but the way his mouth moved against mine, the way he was so thoroughly taking control of me, making it impossible for me to resist.

I didn't want to.

Alexander pulled away from the kiss slowly, and the intensity between us simmered, a quiet tension settling into the air. The connection we'd just shared left me breathless, but I could sense something shifting in him, something darker, more deliberate.

His eyes grew serious as he looked out toward the lake, his jaw tightening.

"Anya," he said, the word sharp and cutting through the soft lull of the evening like a blade.

My heart sank at the sound of her name. The bubble we had been in—the closeness, the calm—it all shattered in an instant.

"I promised I'd lay the topic to rest," he continued, his tone firm, though there was a softness there as well, as if he knew this was something I wasn't prepared for. He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen a few times before sliding it across the table toward me. I stared at it, my lips pressing together tightly as I realized what was on the screen—an audio file.

"Hit play," he said softly, his gaze unwavering.

With trembling hands, I pressed the button, bracing myself for what I was about to hear.

The sound of Anya's voice filled the air, and it hit me like a punch to the chest. I hadn't heard her voice in so long, and now it was like she was right here, standing between us, unraveling everything.

"Will you let me out of this cell if I beg? Or should I promise to be good?" Her voice was laced with defiance, but underneath it, I could hear her desperation, an edge of fear she couldn't hide.

Alexander's voice followed, cold and unrelenting. "When has begging ever gotten you anywhere with me? It's not going to work, Anya. You don't have anything left to offer."

There was a pause before Anya's voice came back, shaky but full of determination. "You took Lolita. You could have me instead. Your cousin didn't have a problem with me. I remember him, you know?"

The words felt like a sharp slap, my heart twisting painfully in my chest.

I stared at the phone as the realization settled in. Anya... with his cousin? Did she mean Bishop? When had that happened? It had to be before we came to the Isle. She never told me, hadn't mentioned anything. My mind reeled, my emotions crashing into one another—shock, betrayal, anger.

I didn't even notice that my hands were shaking.

Alexander's voice came again, unphased by her revelation. "You think that matters to me? I feel nothing but sorrow for his troubles. You don't even know how far gone you are, do you? You're nothing, Anya. You were never more than a pawn, a distraction. Lolita is mine, and you can't do anything to change that."

Anya's voice cracked, her desperation creeping in. "You're making a mistake. Lolita isn't built for this life. She'll break, and when she does, you'll regret choosing her over me. I could have thrived here."

There was a pause, and then Alexander's response was final, lethal. "Lolita won't break. She's stronger than you'll ever understand. This was always her world. Here she is a queen. You could never compete where you can't even begin to compare."

The recording ended abruptly, and the silence that followed was suffocating. I stared down at the phone, tears welling in my eyes, my throat tight as I tried to make sense of everything I had just heard. Anya had slept with his cousin? She had tried to convince him to replace me with her, that I wasn't strong enough for this life.

The betrayal hit me hard, a sharp pain stabbing through my chest. My best friend, my family, someone I trusted more than anyone had been desperate enough to throw herself at him even if it meant harming me.

I couldn't process it all, couldn't reconcile the Anya I knew with the one in the recording. Maybe it all came from a place of desperation.

I couldn't relate because I would never in a million years choose her to be my scapegoat, but she could be somewhere terrible enough to make that her only option. That made me realize something else. I couldn't do anything for her. She was trapped, and I was here, sitting across from the man who had taken everything from her. The helplessness I felt was overwhelming, and the tears that had been building finally spilled over, trailing down my cheeks. Alexander moved swiftly, rising from his chair, and rounding the table to pull me into his arms. His grip was strong, and reassuring, as he cupped the back of my head, pressing me against his chest.

I could feel the steady beat of his heart as he held me close, anchoring me to the present. "It's over, sweet girl," he stated, his voice low and soothing. "She's not a part of your life anymore. She's nothing to you. You are mine, and I'm not letting anything, or anyone take that from us."

I wanted to push him away, to scream at him for what he had done, but I couldn't. I leaned into him, seeking comfort in his presence, in the warmth of his touch. He held me tighter, his lips brushing against my hair.

"I know this hurts, but she made her choices. But I'm here, with you . "

His words washed over me, and despite the tears, despite the betrayal, there was a part of me that clung to him, that needed him in this moment. I hated that I felt this way, hated that I needed his reassurance, but I couldn't stop it.

"I won't let you break," he murmured, his hands stroking my hair gently. "You belong with me. Always."

He drew back slightly, but I couldn't let him go. My hands clung tighter around his waist, my voice trembling as the fear and confusion I felt spilled out in shaky words.

"What will happen to her now?" I pleaded, my voice cracking. "I know—I know she isn't like the women here, but please don't—don't…"

He silenced me softly, his thumb brushing over my lips in a soothing, commanding gesture. "Hush, deliciae ." His tone was calm, but there was a firm edge underneath it. "Even now, you want to save a woman who didn't hesitate to tear you down. That kind heart of yours... it's beautiful, but don't waste it on someone like her."

The words stung with truth, and though a part of me wanted to fight him, the rest of me knew he was right. His lips grazed my cheek, and I felt his tongue sweep across my skin, licking away the tears that had fallen. The intimacy of the gesture, so possessive and raw, sent a wave of electricity through me, making my breath catch. He leaned closer, his lips just inches from mine, his voice wrapping around me like velvet.

"How about this, you let her go. Put all of this behind you. Stay by my side—willingly—and I'll make sure the waste of space finds a place. She won't be anywhere near us--you, but she'll live."

I froze, my chest tightening as the weight of his offer settled over me. His voice was soft, but the choice he presented felt impossibly heavy. My mind was spinning. I still felt the ache for Anya, for the person she had been before everything fell apart. I could never, ever forget the girl who was by my side through everything. It didn't matter if she wanted to sacrifice me to save herself, I could do the same, but to save both of us. Deep down, I knew there was nothing else other than this that would accomplish that. Her fate had been sealed long before this conversation. Tears welled up in my eyes again.

"You promise?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Can you promise you won't hurt her? That she'll live?"

He held my gaze, his expression dark and unwavering.

His thumbs brushed lightly over my cheeks, wiping away another trail of tears. "I give you my word," he said slowly, his voice steady and commanding. "As Diabolus , as your man. She'll live. You have my word on that."

I searched his eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. I believed him— needed to believe him. His word, especially given as Diabolus , felt like a bond, something unbreakable. I let out a shaky breath, nodding, even though my heart was still cracking apart. "Okay," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I'll stay. But only if you promise—no harm comes to her."

His lips curved into a small, dark smile, satisfied with my response. "I promise," he said again, and then leaned in, pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. His hands slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, his warmth seeping into me.

As he held me, I knew I had made a choice I couldn't undo, not without driving the final nail into Anya's coffin.