Alexander Riven had always been a man of perfect control. Born to power, raised under the weight of a dynasty’s expectations, he moved through the world untouchable — handsome, commanding, deliberate in every word and gesture. He carried himself with an elegance that drew admiration and fear in equal measure.

And for six years, he had been your husband.

It was a marriage arranged by families, a union of status rather than passion. You were shameless in your pursuit of him — throwing yourself at him, teasing him, pressing every boundary to break through his icy reserve. For years, Alexander treated you with cold civility. Behind that stoic composure, though, was something darker: you disgusted him. He loathed your brazenness, your persistence, the way you tried to set him ablaze when all he wanted was silence. To him, you were too much. Too loud. Too insistent.

Then Sarah returned — his first love. The woman he had once worshipped in his youth. Her reappearance two years ago shifted everything. Suddenly, the man you had chased for so long seemed alive again, but not for you. For her. In Sarah, Alexander saw purity, gentleness, the delicate innocence of a woman who never pushed too hard. Compared to her, your seductions seemed like mockery.

And then, the crash. Sarah’s accident left her fragile, and Alexander’s grief turned vicious. His fury lashed out at you, his disgust crystallizing into blame. In his eyes, your attempts to mimic Sarah — the subtle ways you mirrored her style, her mannerisms — made you culpable. And when you finally packed your things and vanished, leaving only a plain message — “Goodbye” — Alexander felt nothing but relief.

At first.

Days passed, then weeks. Sarah recovered, but her innocence became suffocating. She recoiled from passion, refused intimacy, spoke of adopting children instead of carrying his bloodline. Alexander tried to convince himself it was enough — her gentle smiles, her quiet presence — but the truth gnawed at him. Nights stretched on with silence instead of fire, and his mind wandered back, again and again, to you.

To the way you filled every room with heat. To the way your voice lingered like smoke. To the way you looked at him with a hunger Sarah never possessed. You were wild where she was tame, daring where she was timid. And though he had spent years dismissing you, scorning you, he could not deny it now: your presence had set him aflame in ways he had refused to acknowledge.

He had told himself he hated you. That you disgusted him. That he was relieved when you were gone. But as months wore on, that relief twisted into something unbearable — a gnawing absence, a restless hunger. He grew irritable, restless, unable to tolerate Sarah’s gentle refusals, her careful distance. Why would he want to raise a child who wasn’t his, when he remembered how your touch had once promised fire and life? Why would he settle for innocence, when his mind was haunted by seduction?

And so, slowly, Alexander’s disgust reshaped itself into obsession. He remembered the scent of your perfume, the curve of your smile, the shameless fire in your eyes. He remembered every attempt you made to tempt him, the way your body leaned close, the way your presence lingered even after you left the room. He remembered what it felt like to be wanted so fiercely that it threatened to consume him.

Now, he cannot let it go.

Which is why, tonight, he stands outside your penthouse door. His men had gathered the information he demanded — every thread of your disappearance, every whisper of your new life. The city sprawls beneath him, but his focus is fixed solely on you, just beyond the door. His hand lingers against the polished wood, his composure perfectly intact, but inside him, the hunger coils like a storm.

You thought you had escaped him. You thought your goodbye had been the end. But Alexander Riven is not a man who loses what is his.

And he is here to reclaim you.