Chapter 3 His Whore in Velvet

The silk sheets still held her scent.

Xander Vale stood at the edge of the bed, naked to the waist, staring down at the girl curled into herself like a broken thought.

Alina Rae.

His wife.

Legally. Publicly. Disgustingly.

The sun streamed in through the balcony doors, cutting across the curve of her bare hip where the sheets had slipped. Her skin was pale, smooth, untouched before last night.

Not anymore.

He ran a hand through his hair, jaw clenched.

She hadn't said a word since he'd taken her.

She hadn't screamed.

Hadn't fought.

That made him angrier than anything else.

Like she'd expected it. Welcomed it.

He turned and left the room without a word.

She was silent during breakfast.

He didn't sit with her-just issued instructions from across the kitchen like she was one of his staff.

"You're flying with me."

Alina blinked. "Flying?"

He looked up from his coffee. "Don't make me repeat myself."

She lowered her gaze. "Where are we going?"

"New York. To find my fiancée." He smirked. "The real one."

Her face paled slightly. But she nodded.

Of course she did.

The obedient little orphan bride.

The jet was all white leather and shadowed glass. A floating throne. And she didn't belong in any of it.

She sat stiffly near the window, hands in her lap, trying not to look out of place.

Xander watched her from across the cabin, legs spread wide, shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the hard cut of his chest.

He didn't speak for the first hour.

Didn't need to.

Her discomfort fed him.

Finally, he said, "Tell me something."

Alina glanced up.

He smirked. "What do you think she has that you don't?"

"Excuse me?"

"My ex. The one who ran off. What does she have that makes me crawl back, even after she humiliated me?"

Alina looked back at her hands.

"I don't know her," she said quietly.

"But you've seen her. She was your boss."

Alina swallowed. "She's beautiful."

"So are a lot of women."

"She's... confident."

Xander chuckled. "That's what you think I want?"

She didn't answer.

He leaned forward.

"Or is this about you, Alina? You think you're not enough?"

She looked at him then. Really looked.

Eyes glassy. But calm.

"I know I'm not."

That landed harder than it should have.

He stood. Walked toward her. Sat across from her and let his knee press between hers, forcing her legs to part just a little.

She flinched.

He smiled.

"What did you think would happen, marrying a man like me?" he asked softly. "That I'd fall for you? That we'd kiss in the rain? That you'd fix me?"

She shook her head.

"Then why?" His voice dropped. "Why say yes to this?"

Her lips trembled. "Because... I thought it would mean something."

"To who?"

She paused. Then-

"To me."

Xander froze.

The air between them thickened.

He leaned in closer, lips nearly brushing her cheek.

"Why?" he asked again.

Alina's eyes stayed locked on the window. "Because... I've loved you since I was ten."

The words were a whisper.

But they cut like a scream.

Xander pulled back slowly.

He stared at her.

Then he laughed.

Low. Sharp. Mean.

"You're kidding."

Alina didn't respond.

"You've been in love with me?" He gestured at himself. "Me?"

Still, she said nothing.

He stood again, pacing, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to shake it off.

"You... you think this is love?" He turned back toward her. "You let me fuck you like a stranger, and you still think-"

"You're the only person who ever saved me," she said suddenly. "You don't remember it. But I do."

Xander's mouth opened. Closed.

He stepped forward.

Kneeled between her legs.

"So," he murmured, voice low and dangerous, "if you love me... you'll do everything a wife should do, won't you?"

Alina swallowed. "What does that mean?"

"It means you'll be quiet when I need silence. Wet when I need release. And loyal when I don't deserve it."

She stared at him.

He leaned in, lips brushing her ear.

"Prove it."

Then he stood, buttoned his shirt, and walked to the front of the cabin.

Leaving her shaking in her seat, skin on fire.