Alpha's Dark Desires-Chapter 148: Being Charmed

Elena’s POV:

If I had to describe my current situation in one word, it would be infuriating.

The more I tried to escape, the more Ace became romantic.

I swear, it was like every failed attempt just made him more patient, more attentive, more charming—which only made me hate him more.

And he knew it.

The bastard enjoyed it.

It was my third day here when I realized that my bedroom had a balcony.

A tall one.

With no stairs.

But still—better than nothing.

I had spent hours mapping out the guards’ rotations, waiting for the moment they were furthest from my room. The balcony was my best bet—a long drop, but if I could use the vines on the wall to climb down, I’d have a chance.

I had made it halfway down before a pair of strong arms yanked me back up.

Ace.

"You’re determined," he had murmured, amusement in his voice as he effortlessly pulled me back onto the balcony. "I like that."

I shoved him. Hard.

He barely moved.

He smirked, catching my wrist before I could slap him. "But you’ll hurt yourself trying to get away like this, little pet. We can’t have that."

I glared at him, breathing heavily, refusing to let him see my panic.

I would not let him win.

Not now.

Not ever.

He sighed as if this was nothing but a mild inconvenience, then lifted me into his arms before carrying me back inside.

The next morning, I woke up to find the balcony doors locked shut.

And on my bedside table?

A single red rose.

A fucking rose.

Was he mocking me?

By the end of the first week, I had a new plan.

The security around me was airtight. No windows, no open doors, no loose screws or vents I could squeeze through.

But there was one weakness—when Ace took me to dinner.

Every evening, like clockwork, he would come to my room, dressed in his annoyingly perfect dark suits, offer me his hand, and take me to dinner.

It was always some extravagant setting—a candlelit dining room, an outdoor terrace under the stars, once even a freaking ballroom with a chandelier straight out of a fairy tale.

I hated how beautiful it all was.

I hated how he watched me, studying my every move, every expression.

I hated how he was patient.

Never forceful. Never demanding.

Just waiting.

And worst of all?

He never locked me up.

Never tied me down.

Just let me roam freely within the walls of his palace-like prison, like a queen in a golden cage.

So that night, I decided to test his limits.

As we sat at a candlelit table, I slowly reached for my steak knife.

I was careful.

Casual.

Just a small movement, curling my fingers around the smooth handle, bringing it closer to my lap—

"Are you going to stab me, little pet?"

I froze.

Ace was watching me, amusement flickering in his dark eyes as he sipped his wine.

The bastard knew.

I gritted my teeth. "Maybe."

He set his glass down and leaned forward, his gaze intense, his lips twitching in the ghost of a smirk.

"Then do it."

I gripped the knife tighter.

He spread his arms, exposing his chest, like he was daring me. Taunting me.

My pulse pounded in my ears.

What was his game?

Why was he acting like this?

I could feel his power from across the table.

He wasn’t a normal rogue. He was something else.

Something dangerous.

And yet, he was letting me do this.

I lifted the knife slightly, watching his eyes flicker to it.

Daring me.

Taunting me.

I wanted to plunge it straight into his smug, arrogant chest—but something in the way he looked at me told me he already knew I wouldn’t.

I exhaled sharply and set the knife down.

His smirk widened.

Bastard.

The next morning, there was another rose waiting for me.

By the second week, I realized something important.

Ace wasn’t just watching me.

He was studying me.

Every time I failed to escape, he learned something new about me.

What I was willing to risk.

How far I would go.

What I was capable of.

And he wasn’t stopping me.

He was enjoying it.

So this time, I planned carefully.

I had managed to swipe a small vial of sleeping herbs from the kitchen when his guards weren’t looking.

It wasn’t poison, but it was strong enough to knock out a wolf for hours.

If I could slip it into his drink, I’d have enough time to search for an escape route.

So that evening, when Ace led me to another fancy dinner, I played along.

I smiled.

I laughed.

I even let him brush his fingers over mine when he handed me my wine glass.

And just as he looked away for a second, I poured the vial’s contents into his drink.

I forced myself to act normal, lifting my own glass to my lips as I watched him take his first sip.

And then—

He stopped.

I froze.

Ace’s eyes lifted to mine, sharp and knowing.

I felt my stomach drop as he set his glass down.

He exhaled. "You never give up, do you?"

My hands clenched into fists.

And then, to my horror—

He switched our glasses.

And drank mine instead.

I stared at him in shock.

I swallowed hard, unsure how to react as he leaned back in his chair, studying me with something almost amused.

"Clever," he murmured, rolling the wine glass between his fingers. "But not clever enough."

I gritted my teeth. "Why are you keeping me here?"

His expression shifted.

For a moment, something dark flashed in his eyes, but then it was gone.

He exhaled softly. "Because I want to know you."

I blinked. "What?"

Ace’s lips curled slightly as he reached for his own wine glass—the one I had poisoned—and pour it to the floor, completely unfazed.

"I want to know everything about you, Elena." His voice was smooth, dangerous, intoxicating. "Your thoughts, your dreams, your fears, your desires."

My breath caught in my throat.

The way he said it—so calm, so certain—it made my pulse skip.

I clenched my jaw. "And what if I don’t want to know you?"

Ace chuckled, setting his glass down before rising from his chair.

He slowly walked toward me, and I had to force myself not to flinch as he leaned down, his hand brushing over my cheek.

"Then I’ll have to change your mind."

I glared up at him. "You’ll fail."

His smirk widened.

"Then let’s make a game of it, little pet."

I hated him.

But I hated myself more for the way my body flitch to his touch. I did want him to think I was scared of him.

Because Ace?

Ace was dangerous.

And he was winning.

The next morning, there was another rose waiting for me.

*****

The stupid guy had a Jacuzzi.

And, of course, he had to show it off.

The moment Ace walked into my room that evening, holding a bathing suit in one hand and a smirk on his stupidly perfect face, I knew I was in for some bullshit.

"What’s this?" I asked, crossing my arms as I glared at the tiny piece of fabric dangling from his fingers.

Ace tilted his head, all mock innocence. "A gift."

I narrowed my eyes. "For what?"

He shrugged. "I thought you’d appreciate something relaxing after all your... recent frustrations."

Frustrations?

He meant my multiple escape attempts.

Bastard.

I snatched the swimsuit from his hand and inspected it. A black bikini—of course.

"How about you take your ’gift’ and shove it—"

Ace sighed, already expecting my resistance. "Come on, little wolf. Just one evening. No fights. No games."

I snorted. "Everything with you is a game."

He chuckled. "That’s why you like me."

"I hate you."

"That too."

I wanted to throw the swimsuit at his smug face, but at the same time, I was tired.

Tired of fighting.

Tired of watching his every move.

Tired of feeling trapped.

Maybe one evening without fighting would help me think.

Maybe I could play along—just enough to learn more about him.

So, I sighed dramatically. "Fine."

His smirk widened. "Good girl."

I almost threw the bikini at him.

I’ll admit it—the Jacuzzi was heaven.

The hot water eased the tension in my muscles, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a little lighter.

Ace sat across from me, his arms stretched out along the rim of the tub, watching me with that infuriating smirk. He was shirtless, and I hated that I noticed the way the warm light highlighted his toned chest.

Hated that he looked so relaxed, like he hadn’t kidnapped me and locked me in his mansion-palace-fortress-whatever.

"I was expecting more resistance," he mused.

I rolled my eyes. "Trust me, I still have some left."

He chuckled. "Of course you do."

I leaned back, sighing. "Why are we here, Ace?" ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

His smirk faded slightly. "Because I want you here."

I turned to him. "That’s not an answer."

He exhaled. "It’s the only one I have."

I studied him carefully.

This was different.

His usual cocky arrogance was still there, but this time, there was something softer beneath it. Something almost... vulnerable.

It threw me off.

"Are you always this cryptic?" I asked.

He tilted his head. "Are you always this difficult?"

I smirked. "That’s why you like me."

He chuckled. "Maybe."

For a moment, the air between us shifted.

I hated it.

I hated that he wasn’t acting like the usual overconfident rogue. That he wasn’t goading me, wasn’t trying to be superior.

I hated that, for the first time, I didn’t feel like his prisoner—just a girl in a Jacuzzi with a guy she should absolutely despise.

I shook off the thought.

Focus, Elena.

You are here to study him. To find a weakness.

I cleared my throat. "You ever going to let me go?"

His jaw tensed, but his expression remained neutral.

"No."

No hesitation. No lies.

I swallowed hard. "Why?"

Ace leaned in slightly, his voice lower, more serious.

"Because the moment I let you go, Kane will take you back."

Something in the way he said it made my stomach twist.

Not because he was wrong—but because he sounded like he was protecting me from Kane, not keeping me prisoner.

I frowned. "And that’s a bad thing because...?"

Ace’s eyes darkened.

"You don’t know what Kane is capable of," he said quietly.

I scoffed. "I know exactly what he’s capable of."

Ace shook his head. "No, you don’t."

I hated that his words sent a shiver down my spine.

Hated that, for just a second, I questioned whether or not he was telling the truth.

I glared at him. "You act like you’re any better."

"I don’t."

His honesty stunned me into silence.

For a moment, we just sat there, the water rippling between us, the heat making my skin flush.

I hated this.

Hated the way he looked at me—like he actually cared.

Like I was his to protect.

Like I was his.

I needed to remind myself that this was just another game.

I had to get out of here.

I had to run.

But deep down, a terrifying thought whispered:

What if I don’t want to?

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