"You think chains can hold me?" Alexander snarls, his voice rough from days of imprisonment, his eyes burning with rage. His fists clench tightly around the cold metal of the shackles that bind him, the chains scraping against his skin, but he doesn’t care. Every muscle in his body aches, every bone in his body screams for freedom, but it’s the fire inside him—the unrelenting need to get out, to get to Elena—that pushes him forward.
The cell is cold, damp, and dark, but Alexander doesn’t let it break him. He’s been in worse situations. He’s fought harder battles. This? This was just another challenge. The guards had made the mistake of thinking that locking him up would be enough. They were wrong. They didn't understand the kind of man they were dealing with.
His mind races, his eyes scanning the room for any weakness in the security. And then, he finds it. A small gap in the wall, where the stone has worn down over time. It’s barely visible, hidden in the corner, but to Alexander, it’s a beacon of hope. His heart thunders in his chest as he moves toward it. Every step is agony, every movement is a strain, but his focus is singular. Freedom.
With a grunt, he shifts his body awkwardly, using all his remaining strength to press his back against the wall and push against the chains. His arms tremble, his muscles begging him to stop, but he doesn’t listen. Not now. Not when he’s this close.
Finally, with a sharp crack, the wall gives way just enough. He pulls himself through the small gap, barely squeezing through, but he does it. He’s free. For the first time in what feels like forever, Alexander stands, taking a deep breath as the air fills his lungs. He doesn’t waste time celebrating. He’s still in enemy territory. He has to move fast.
His hand brushes against the wall as he steadies himself, trying to ignore the pain coursing through his body. He’s bleeding from multiple cuts, his chest tight from the wounds he’s sustained in the past few days, but none of that matters. All that matters is Elena. She’s out there, and he’s getting to her.
Quietly, he steps into the hallway, his eyes flicking back and forth, every sense alert. The hallway is silent—too silent. The guards are probably still unaware of his escape, thinking he’s still locked up. He takes advantage of the element of surprise.
But as he creeps closer to the door, the first guard spots him. The man’s eyes widen in shock, and before he can react, Alexander slams his fist into the guard’s throat, knocking him unconscious. The second guard barely has time to draw his weapon before Alexander is on him, his knees driving into the man’s chest with brutal force. A quick, merciless strike to the neck, and the guard crumples to the ground.
The blood is still warm on his hands when he stands, wiping it off on his pants. There’s no time for regret, no time for second thoughts. He can’t afford it. He won’t let Elena become Rafael’s possession again. He won’t let her fall into that monster’s hands.
Moving faster now, Alexander heads for the exit. His heart beats louder in his chest, the sound deafening in his ears. Every step brings him closer to freedom, but it also feels like it’s taking longer. His legs are heavy, his vision blurry from the blood loss. He knows he’s running on fumes, but he can’t stop. Not now. Not when he’s this close.
The door to the outside is in sight. He’s almost there. Just a few more steps. His heart races, and he pushes himself harder, faster, ignoring the pain in his chest, the dizziness in his head. He’s so close. So close to the moment when he can breathe again.
But just as his hand reaches the door, a sound stops him cold. A cold click. A cocking of a gun.
His blood runs cold, and his instincts scream for him to turn around, but it’s too late. The barrel of the gun is pressed to the back of his head.
"Did you really think you could escape, Alexander?" Rafael’s voice is low, like the growl of a predator closing in on its prey.
Alexander’s body tenses, every muscle screaming to fight back, but he knows that if he moves, if he does anything stupid, it’ll be over. Rafael has him.