Page 41 of The Alpha Under My Bed

I was fucking furious.

This wasn’t a gift. It was a transaction. A silent way of saying:You’re mine now. You don’t need to worry about money. You don’t need to worry about anything—because I’ll take care of it for you.

I hated that part of me—the part that wanted to let him.

I swallowed down the sharp, bitter heat rising in my throat, my nails digging into my palm as I exhaled sharply through my nose. No. I refused to play along.

My fingers flew across the phone screen, transferring every single cent from the joint account to my personal one. It was childish. A petty, hollow act of rebellion. But it was something. Something that was mine.

And then I did something worse.

I tapped the unknown number—the one that had been taunting me since I woke up, lurking in the corner of my mind like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

My pulse hammered in my ears, deafening and erratic, as the cursor blinked mockingly in the empty text box. My thumbs hovered above the keys, frozen, torn. My mind screamed at me not to engage, not to let myself slip any further into this mess. But I couldn’t stop.

I couldn’t just… sit here.

Bound. Trapped.

I inhaled sharply, the chastity belt pressing firm and unrelenting against my waist, the dull weight deep inside me refusing to let me forget. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t just some fucked-up game.

This was real.

I started typing.

Me: Take it off.

I hit send before I could second-guess myself, my breath locked in my throat as I waited.

Seconds passed.

Then—

A buzz.

I flinched, my heart slamming against my ribs as the response lit up my screen.

Unknown Number: Not yet, baby.

A violent, frustrated tremor shot through me.

Me: You don’t get to decide that.

No read receipt. No immediate response. But I knew he had seen it.

I could feel it.

The seconds stretched, dragging, suffocating. My hands ached with how tightly I was gripping my phone. I wanted to throw it. Smash it. Rip this fucking belt off me with my bare hands.

And then?—

Buzz.

Unknown Number: I will, baby. But first, I need something from you.

My stomach turned.

Me: What.

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