Owned by a man I couldn't trust

He didn't believe in love at first sight. But the moment he saw her, his first thought wasn't about love anyway.

"I want to fuck her."

Crude. Reckless. But brutally honest.

"Forget everything," Alex said suddenly, his voice low and intense. His assistant looked up, startled by the change in his tone.

"I want her in my bed tonight."

Andrew blinked in disbelief. The words hung in the air, and for a moment, he wondered if he had misheard. But Alex's eyes were dark, filled with a mix of anger and something else something more dangerous.

He wanted her. He wanted her in ways he hadn't expected. And it happened for the first time in his life.

Few hours ago

It was a bright Sunday morning, and Alex lay sprawled across his luxurious king-sized bed, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains untouched by human hands. No one dared disturb him, not even his personal assistant, Andrew, nor the team of bodyguards stationed outside his suite. They all knew the unwritten rule "Never interrupt Alex unless summoned."

The silence was broken only by the sound of muffled footsteps. A young woman emerged from his room, her movements slow and hesitant. She winced with every step, her face pale and etched with discomfort. Her disheveled appearance betrayed the storm she had endured, but she kept her gaze fixed ahead.

She didn't dare glance back at the man who remained asleep in that grand room. She knew better. Alex's reputation preceded him, a man of power, ruthlessness, and a temper as volatile as the markets he dominated. This was her first and last time in his world, a fleeting encounter she'd prefer to forget. Leaving before he woke up was the safest choice, no matter the humiliation in her heart.

Moments later, Alex stirred. His hand reached instinctively for the silk robe draped over the nearby chair. Rubbing his eyes, he got up, his posture commanding even in casual moments. Born into a dynasty of wealth, Alex had never known struggle. His mother and grandfather had ensured that his every whim was indulged, shaping him into the proud, calculating man he was today. Power was his birthright, and he wielded it with an iron fist.

At an age when most people scraped by with entry level jobs, Alex owned sprawling properties, luxury hotels, and global business enterprises. This hotel suite, like many of the towering buildings in the skyline, was part of his empire. His connections extended beyond the world of legitimate business alliances with shady figures and influential mafias ensured that he could eliminate obstacles without dirtying his hands.

Despite the allure of his life, Alex rarely rested. Even Sundays were consumed by the demands of his sprawling empire. He reached for his phone, dialing a number with practiced precision.

Before the third ring, his personal assistant, Andrew, entered the suite with quiet efficiency, bowing his head slightly as a gesture of respect.

"Good morning, sir," Andrew greeted, his tone as polished as his appearance.

Alex's assistant, Andrew was a man of quiet strength. He moved with purpose, his posture straight and commanding, yet there was a calmness about him that put people at ease. His aura was undeniable, strong, focused, and dependable, like someone who could carry the weight of the world without complaint.

But it was his eyes that softened the edge of his presence. They were kind, warm, and deeply attentive, as if he truly saw the people he interacted with. His voice matched his demeanor, polite and composed, every word carefully chosen. He was the type of man who radiated both authority and approachability, making him the perfect right hand for someone like Alex.

Alex began speaking in his cold, detached voice, one that could chill even the most confident of men.

"Give her whatever she wants," he ordered, waving a dismissive hand. "And make sure she never shows her face to me again."