The kiss wasn't gentle. It was a collision.
Alexander's mouth devoured hers with a fierce, punishing heat that knocked the breath straight out of her lungs. Elara's hands flew up, her fingers instinctively curling into the crisp fabric of his white shirt. She meant to push him away, to demand he stop, but the sheer, overwhelming force of him paralyzed her.
He tasted like expensive whiskey and absolute control.
One of his hands remained tangled in her hair, holding her securely in place, while the other slid down her spine. He gripped her waist, hauling her flush against his solid, hard body. The cold glass of the window bit into her back, contrasting sharply with the searing heat radiating from the man crushing her against it.
In her past life, Julian's kisses had been careful, calculated, always perfectly composed. This was chaos. This was a predator claiming its territory.
And heaven help her, Elara didn't hate it.
A sharp, unfamiliar spark ignited in her chest. She had died a betrayed, broken woman. But here, trapped in the arms of the city's most feared billionaire, she felt dangerously, undeniably alive.
Instead of pushing him away, Elara's fingers uncurled. She gripped his broad shoulders and kissed him back.
Alexander went perfectly still for a fraction of a second. Then, a low, approving growl vibrated deep in his chest. His grip on her waist tightened to the point of bruising as the kiss deepened, shifting from a punishment into something dark, hungry, and dangerously intoxicating.
When he finally tore his mouth away, Elara was trembling. Her chest heaved as she dragged in oxygen, her lips swollen and flushed.
Alexander didn't step back. He kept her caged against the glass, his forehead resting against hers. He was breathing heavily, too, his pitch-black eyes burning with a possessive fire that made her heart race.
"You catch on quickly, Mrs. Cross," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her bruised lower lip.
"You said I needed to greet you properly," Elara managed to say, her voice a breathless, husky whisper that she barely recognized. She lifted her chin, refusing to look away from him. "I am a fast learner."
A wicked, breathtaking smile spread across Alexander's face. He finally stepped back, releasing her. The sudden loss of his body heat left Elara feeling strangely cold.
He walked over to the side table, picking up his glass of whiskey. He took a slow sip, his eyes never leaving her face.
"Eighty million dollars to buy out your board," Alexander said, returning to their previous conversation as if he hadn't just kissed the life out of her. "It was a ruthless move. Julian will be bleeding money by tomorrow morning trying to cover his exposed assets. I approve."
Elara smoothed down her coat, trying to steady her racing pulse. "He tried to cut off my resources. I simply removed the ground he was standing on. But he won't stop there. He's desperate now."
"Desperate men make mistakes," Alexander noted smoothly.
"He will try to use the public," Elara predicted, her mind shifting back into business mode. "Tomorrow night is the annual Vance Charity Gala. It's the biggest high-society event of the season. Julian has spent the last month bribing reporters to ensure his image as the 'perfect fiancé' is splashed across every magazine cover. If I know him, he will show up with Chloe and play the victim. He'll tell the press I had a mental breakdown."
Julian's playbook was predictable. He relied on his charming smile and the public's perception of Elara as a naive, fragile heiress.
Alexander swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "And what does the newly minted CEO of the Vance Corporation plan to do about it?"
Elara's eyes hardened. "I plan to let him dig his own grave on live television. But I need to control the narrative. If I show up alone, they'll spin it as a lover's quarrel."
She looked at Alexander. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken implications.
"You want me to escort you," Alexander concluded, a slow smirk playing on his lips.
"I want to announce our marriage," Elara corrected, her chin held high. "Julian wants to use the media to destroy my reputation. I want to use it to bury him permanently. When the city sees that I threw him away for you, he will be a laughingstock. His remaining investors will flee."
Alexander stared at her. For a terrifying moment, she thought he might refuse. He despised public events, and he rarely allowed the press to take photographs of him.
Then, Alexander set his glass down. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialing a number.
"Liam," Alexander said, his eyes locked onto Elara's. "Clear my schedule for tomorrow evening. And contact the House of Valerius. Tell them to bring their entire new diamond collection to the penthouse tomorrow morning."
He hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket.
"If we are going to announce that you belong to me, Elara," Alexander said softly, walking back toward her. "You are going to be dripping in my diamonds when we do."