I pushed against Alexander’s chest with everything I had, but it was useless. He was too strong, too heavy, too determined. His body kept me pinned to the mattress, one hand still gripping my wrist above my head while the other rested possessively on my pregnant belly.
“Stop fighting me, Ava,” he growled, voice low and dangerous. “You’re carrying my child. You’re my wife. You’re mine.”
Tears streamed down my face as the video kept replaying in my mind — my mother’s terrified voice begging for her life.
“You killed her,” I sobbed, voice breaking. “You killed my mother to keep me like some kind of pet.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened. For a split second, something almost like pain flashed in his gray eyes. Then it disappeared, replaced by that cold, ruthless possessiveness I knew too well.
“
