Bound to my Enemy Chapter 53

Zane’s POV.

Donald leaves the balcony first.

He claps a hand on my shoulder, gives that knowing look I’ve hated since we were teenagers , and says, "Don’t try to be too hard on yourself, give yourself a break and maybe you can experience and explore sothing great with Elaine". Then he slips back inside, glass in hand, already halfway into another conversation before the balcony doors swing shut behind him.

I stay exactly where I am.

The night air is cool, enough to ease through the lingering burn in my chest. Below, the grounds stretch out in neat lines of light.

I lean my forearms on the railing and stare out at nothing, my mind running miles per second.

This was supposed to be simple.

A marriage on paper, a strategic move mostly to get to Lucas than anything . Elaine was ant to be a variable I accounted for, not one that got under my skin. She’s stubborn , yes and more difficult than I anticipated, but difficulty doesn’t usually unbalance .

Yet here I am, standing alone on a balcony, jaw tight, replaying the way she looked walking down the stairs earlier. The way that dress fit her like it was tailored to provoke. The way she smiled at people who weren’t .

I tell myself it’s irritation.... Just my possessive nature.

Anything but what it actually is.

I push off the railing and head back inside.

The doors open to music and laughter. The room feels louder now, brighter, with too many people, I guess more guests arrived while I was out the balcony.

My eyes roam around the room se searching for my little spit fire...... then I see them.

Donald and Elaine are on the dance floor.

She’s facing him, one hand light on his shoulder, the other in his. Her head tips back as she laughs at sothing he saisd completely unguarded. It’s not just her polite laughter... It’s real and real, the kind she has never given once before.

Sothing in my chest snaps tight.

I stop walking and just stare at them dancing.

Donald says sothing I can’t hear, and Elaine laughs again, louder this ti... so much that her shoulders shoulders shake slightly. Her hair slips over one shoulder and she looks so... free.

My vision narrows..... then darkens

I don’t think, I just start moveing towards them.

Each step toward them feels deliberate and controlled, even though my hands are curling into fists at my sides. I register the urge.....clear and sharp to grab Donald by the collar and introduce his face to the floor over and over.

I don’t do it though.

Barely.

Because Elaine turns her head just slightly and sees .

Our eyes lock for a while

And then she smirks.

It’s small and gone almost imdiately.

But was there and she knows it.

That makes it worse.

Donald notices a second later. His smile doesn’t falter, which irritates even more. He finishes the turn they’re in, then eases back, releasing her hand smoothly like he’s doing a favor.

"Ah," he says easily. "Here’s Zane"

I don’t look at him.

My hand closes around Elaine’s instead. I feel the warmth of her skin imdiately, feel the way her fingers tense before settling.

I slide my other hand to her waist. Not gentle... not rough either . Just enough pressure to make my presence clear.

Donald steps back, unbothered. "I’ll steal you later," he says to her, winking.

I don’t acknowledge the fucker, he’s doing it purposely to get under my skin.

We start moving, because stopping would draw attention, and I don’t do scenes.

Elaine fits against so perfectly.... Adnd that’s the problem. Her body aligns with mine like it’s been there before, like it knows where to go...... I hate that I notice.

She tilts her head up at . "You don’t have to dance with , you know."

I keep my expression neutral. "We’re expected to."

"Especially if you’re going to make that face while doing it," she adds. "The one that looks like you’re having difficulty taking a shit."

I look down at her, incredulous. "I do not look like that."

She smiles, slow and irritating. "You should see it from where I’m standing."

My jaw tightens.

We take a few steps in silence. Her skin is warm under my hand.. I adjust my grip, but that only makes more aware of her.

"What did my friend say to you," I ask.

It cos out sharper than I intended.

"About what?"

"Anything."

She shrugs, maddeningly casual. "He just warned about how much you like basic courstey."

My steps falter.

The music continues around us, couples swaying, laughing. I don’t care.

My hand tightens on her hip before I can stop myself. Not enough to hurt her just enough to anchor myself.

I exhale slowly, feeling the tension run all the way down to my shoes. "Did you learn to run that mouth at the expensive college your brothers paid for? Is that where you learned to be an absolute brat?."

She angles her head, studying like she’s amused. "It’s funny. With everyone else, I’m the picture of humility. It’s you who brings out this side of ."

"Funny, very." I say flatly.

We resu dancing.

I look at her properly now. The line of her neck. The way her lashes lower slightly when she blinks. The faint flush high on her cheekbones that wasn’t there earlier.

"You seed comfortable," I say. "With Donald."

"He was friendly."

"That’s not what I asked."

Her brow lifts. "Is this jealousy I sense?"

"No."

"You’re my wife, I don’t want you flirting with other n it’s not very telling of you.

"Oh don’t be stupid ," she replies. "That doesn’t an I stop associating."

My thumb presses lightly at her waist down to her ass without conscious thought.

She laughs under her breath. "You disappear for twenty minutes and suddenly you’re territorial."

"I didn’t disappear i stepped out with a friend

She shrugs. "I danced with one too."

I look at her properly then. Really look. The challenge in her eyes. The satisfaction she’s barely hiding.

The music starts to wind down.

Applause ripples through the room.

I don’t let go right away.

When I finally do, I lean down just enough that only she can hear . "Enjoy it while it lasts," I say quietly. "This version of that tolerates you.

She ets my gaze without hesitation. "I was thinking the sa thing."

We step apart, smiles in place, bodies still tense beneath the surface.

And as I turn toward the next waiting guest, one thought sits heavy and undeniable in my chest.

This marriage was supposed to be controlled.

Instead, it’s already a war.

And I don’t lose wars.