Alpha's Dark Desires

Chapter 49: Bankrupt Kane Spree

Elena POV:

Stepping out of the car, I was immediately reminded of just how wealthy Kane was. The shopping district he had brought me to screamed luxury, and I couldn’t help but feel out of place. The wide streets were lined with sleek storefronts displaying designer brands I’d only ever seen in magazines. Each one seemed more extravagant than the last, and the customers strutting around looked like they belonged in a fashion show.

I was wearing Kane’s oversized hoodie and long socks, which didn’t exactly scream "chic," but I refused to let my discomfort show. This wasn’t a date, after all—it was a mission to get clothes and nothing more. Kane had a lot of nerve dragging me here, considering the mess he’d put me through, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered.

"Where are we going?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest as I followed him.

Kane placed a hand on my lower back, guiding me toward one of the largest and most extravagant stores on the strip. His touch was warm, firm, and irritatingly intimate. "Somewhere that has exactly what you need."

"And what’s that? More hoodies and socks?" I snapped, trying to put some distance between us.

He chuckled, his deep voice sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "You’ll see."

As we approached the entrance of the store, a pair of glass doors slid open to reveal a gleaming interior that could only be described as palatial. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, and the floors were polished to such a shine that I could see my reflection. Rows of perfectly arranged racks displayed clothes so beautiful and delicate, I was afraid to even look at them for too long, let alone touch them.

A sales associate in a sharp black suit

approached us the moment we walked in, their professional smile unwavering.

"Mr. Kane," the associate greeted, clearly recognizing him. "It’s been a while. How can we assist you today?"

Before I could blink, Kane’s hand settled possessively on my waist. "My mate needs a new wardrobe. Something... appropriate," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with authority.

Mate. There it was again. I didn’t miss the way the associate’s eyes flickered over me, quickly assessing my oversized hoodie and socks. I stiffened under the scrutiny, fighting the urge to snap at both the associate and Kane for putting me in this position.

"Of course," the associate said, their tone professional but slightly intrigued. "Right this way."

As we were led deeper into the store, my irritation bubbled. "You could’ve warned me about this whole ’fancy shopping spree’ idea," I muttered under my breath.

"I told you we were going to get you some real clothes," Kane replied, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Besides, this is long overdue. You deserve the best."

I rolled my eyes, but his words tugged at something in me. Not that I’d let him know that.

We entered a section of the store that felt even more exclusive, if that were possible. Private fitting rooms lined the walls, and racks of high-end designer clothes surrounded us. Dresses, skirts, pants, blouses—every piece looked like it belonged on a runway.

"Why don’t you start browsing?" Kane said, gesturing to the racks. "Pick out whatever catches your eye."

I crossed my arms and gave him a pointed look. "You’re really pulling the ’buy her forgiveness’ card, huh?"

Kane sighed, his expression softening. "Elena, this isn’t about buying your forgiveness. It’s about making sure you have what you need. You’re my mate, whether you like it or not. I take care of what’s mine."

That infuriating possessiveness again. But instead of snapping back, I decided to let it slide—for now. "Fine," I said, turning my attention to the clothes.

If Kane thought I was going to go easy on him, he had another thing coming. The moment he told me to "pick whatever catches your eye," my inner devil whispered, bankrupt him. After all, this man—this cheating, arrogant, possessive alpha—had the audacity to drag me here after everything he’d put me through. Well, two can play at this game, and I intended to make him regret every cent he spent.

I started with the racks of dresses. Not just any dresses, but the ones with price tags that could fund a small pack for a month. One after another, I picked out flowing gowns, glittering cocktail dresses, and even some obnoxiously elaborate pieces I’d never actually wear. The sales associate followed me around, arms laden with everything I touched, and Kane just watched with an amused smirk on his face.

"Oh, this is lovely," I said sweetly, holding up a floor-length emerald gown covered in hand-sewn crystals. "Don’t you think it’ll look stunning on me?"

"It’ll look perfect," Kane replied without hesitation, his tone infuriatingly sincere.

I huffed and shoved it into the associate’s arms before moving on. Next were the shoes—rows and rows of them, all lined up like tiny pieces of art. Stilettos, boots, sneakers, sandals—I picked out at least one of everything, adding them to my growing pile.

By the time I got to the bags and jewelry section, I could practically hear the sales associate struggling under the weight of my picks. Kane followed me silently, his expression unreadable, but I was determined to wipe that smug look off his face.

"Oh, this one," I said, holding up a crocodile leather handbag with gold accents. "And this necklace. And maybe these earrings. You know what? Just add everything from this shelf to the pile."

"Everything?" the associate stammered, glancing nervously at Kane.

"Everything," I repeated firmly.

Kane only nodded, not even blinking. It was maddening how calm he was, like the mountain of items I’d amassed didn’t even faze him.

After exhausting my "bankrupt Kane" spree at the first store—which I’ll admit was a very satisfying experience—I figured I’d tackle my next necessity on my own. Underwear. Bras, panties, you name it. Something normal people wear under their clothes, which, judging by Kane’s earlier comments about my lack of them, had been sorely missing.

My plan was simple: slip into the nearest Victoria’s Secret while he was distracted paying for the mountain of bags and clothes I’d racked up and get in and out without him noticing. Easy, right? Wrong.

Just as I rounded the corner and stepped into the pastel wonderland of lace and satin, Kane’s shadow loomed behind me like some overprotective, smug beast.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, spinning around to face him as the scent of his cologne hit me. Damn him for smelling so good.

"Following you," he said casually, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, and his plain white T-shirt stretched across his chest annoyingly well. "Where you go, I go."

I glared at him. "This is a women’s lingerie store, Kane. You’re not supposed to be here."

He smirked, and I swear it made me want to punch his perfect face. "I don’t see a sign that says ’No Alphas Allowed.’ Besides," his eyes raked over the displays, "you’re going to need my help."

"Help?" I spluttered, clutching a lace bralette from the nearest rack like a weapon. "Why on earth would I need your help picking out underwear?"

"Because," he said, stepping closer, "I’m the one who’s going to be taking them off you."

I froze, my jaw dropping. Did he seriously just say that? My cheeks burned as I scrambled to recover. "You are such an ass!" I hissed, throwing the bralette back onto the rack.

Ignoring me completely, Kane strolled further into the store like he owned the place. He picked up a lacy black number, held it up, and arched a brow at me. "This one’s nice. It matches your eyes when you’re pissed off."

I marched up to him, snatched it out of his hands, and shoved it back onto the rack. "Get out, Kane."

"Not happening."

I narrowed my eyes at him, practically throwing daggers. "You’re the worst."

"And yet, here I am," he replied, grabbing a deep red bra from another rack. He dangled it in front of me like a prize, clearly enjoying how flustered I was. "This one. Definitely this one."

I swiped it out of his hands, muttering curses under my breath. "You’re unbelievable."

"And you’re adorable when you’re mad." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. "You know, if you need a fitting room, I can help with that too."

That was it. I spun around and stomped toward the counter, determined to grab the first few bras and panties I could find, pay, and get the hell out of there before I strangled him.

But of course, Kane wasn’t done. As I piled my items on the counter, he stepped up beside me, pulling a lacy garter belt from another display and adding it to the pile.

"You forgot this," he said, smirking at me.

I glared at him. "I’m not wearing that."

"Oh, you will," he said, his voice dripping with confidence.

The sales associate was visibly uncomfortable as they rang up the purchase, clearly wondering why I hadn’t murdered this man yet. Honestly, I was wondering the same thing.

By the time we left the store, I was fuming. Kane, however, looked smugger than ever, holding the pastel pink shopping bags like he’d just won a prize. noveldrama

"I hate you," I muttered under my breath as we walked back to the car.

He leaned down, his lips brushing dangerously close to my ear as he whispered, "No, you don’t."

My face flushed bright red, and I stormed ahead of him, determined not to let him see how much his words affected me. Stupid alpha. Stupid mate bond. And stupid me for letting him get under my skin.