Mine

Chapter 4

You can't control me! You can't control who I get to be with. You have no say in my life!" I yelled angrily, my frustration boiling over.

He started chuckling darkly, the sound sending chills down my spine. His rough hand suddenly wrapped around my neck, his grip firm enough to scare me but not enough to hurt—yet.

"I own you, Isabella," he hissed, his cold eyes burning into mine.

I panicked. I needed to get out of here. With all the strength I could muster, I pushed against him, barely managing to move him enough to slip out from under his hold. My heart was pounding as I bolted for the door, yanking it open.

But before I could take a step out, his strong hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me back into the room as though I weighed nothing. I kicked and screamed, but in this enormous mansion, who would hear me?

He slammed the door shut and locked it again, shoving me back onto the bed with frightening ease. My chest heaved as I tried to gather my thoughts, fear clouding my mind.

"You listen to me and listen well, Bella," he said, his tone eerily calm now as he walked over to a chair across from the bed. He sat down, leaning back casually as though we weren't in the middle of a battle for my freedom. Crossing his legs, he continued, "The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I had to have you. And now, I do. You belong to me, and things will go much smoother for you if you just accept that."

I stared at him, utterly disbelieving. "You can't be serious," I whispered.

"Please," I said, my voice breaking as I ran a hand through my hair. "Just bring me home."

He tilted his head, studying me with a mix of amusement and something far darker. "Go ahead," he said, gesturing toward my pocket. "Call the police. Or maybe one of your friends. Oh wait," he smirked. "You can't."

I pulled my phone out, dread washing over me as I saw what he'd done. My contacts—every male friend I had—were gone.

"What did you do?!" I demanded, my voice rising in both fear and anger.

"I meant what I said earlier," he replied nonchalantly. "I don't want to see you with any other guys. Not in person, not through a screen, not at all. When I say you're mine, I mean it, Bella."

My hands trembled as I clutched my phone. "I'll report you," I said, though my voice wavered. "You can't just do this to me. The police—"

He interrupted me with a laugh, shaking his head. "The police? Baby, I own the police. You think they'd believe a high school girl over me? A powerful businessman with connections to some of the most influential people in the city?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. My mind raced for a way to get through to him.

"Xavier," I started carefully, "how about we take a step back? Get to know each other properly. You know, go on dates, talk—like normal people. Then we can figure out what to do from there."

He stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable, before shaking his head. "No."

I blinked. "No?"

"I don't need to play those stupid games. You're already mine. I don't need labels or dates to prove it. You'll learn more about me in time, angel."

There was no reasoning with him. Defeated, I slumped back onto the bed.

"Fine," I muttered. "Just take me home."

The car ride back was tense. He held my hand the entire time, occasionally bringing it to his lips to plant gentle kisses. The gesture, though soft, only made my skin crawl.

"I love you," he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

My head whipped toward him, my brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

At a stoplight, he turned to face me, his eyes softening ever so slightly. "I love you, Isabella. From the moment I collided with you, I knew you were meant to be mine."

"I don't feel the same," I said, testing the waters. My voice wavered, but I had to try. "I don't want anything to do with you."

His laugh was chilling, and his expression darkened. Without warning, he sped up, pulling over abruptly onto the side of the road.

Before I could react, he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over me, pressing me back against the seat. My breath hitched as he reached into his waistband and pulled out a gun, pressing it lightly against my stomach.

"Baby girl," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't know it yet, but you do love me. I don't want to hear another word of denial from you."

Tears streamed down my face as he pressed the gun harder against me.

"Say it," he commanded. "Say you're mine."

"W-What?" I stammered, shaking my head.

"Say it!" he barked, his voice sharp.

"I—I'm yours!" I cried out. "All yours! Please, just put the gun away!"

He smirked, withdrawing the gun from my stomach only to hold it against my temple.

"Kiss me," he ordered.

My heart sank. I froze, unable to comprehend the nightmare I was living.

"Remember," he said, his voice soft but threatening, "your life is at my mercy right now."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. The kiss was slow and calculated at first, but it quickly became something far more desperate. He deepened it, groaning as he ran his hands through my hair.

"Fuck," he muttered between kisses. "I can't get enough of you."

I felt his hands start to wander, panic surging through me again. "Xavier," I whispered, my voice shaking.

He ignored me, his lips trailing down to my neck as his hands moved to unclasp my bra.

This isn't happening.

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