Chapter 41
I spent my days scrolling through my phone. I half-hoped Alexander would call. I half-dreaded it. My thumb hovered over his name. My heart raced when a notification popped up. It sank when it wasn't him.
I missed him. I missed Sophia. Her little hugs. The way she'd tug my sleeve. She wanted to show me her latest drawing.
But I needed this space. I needed to know what I wanted. Who I was without him. It was like finding my reflection in a shattered mirror. Every piece was jagged, distorted, incomplete.
Mia had other plans. "You've been moping around for days," she said. She tossed a pillow at me from across the living room. It hit my chest. I groaned, burying my face in the couch cushions. "We're going out. Tonight. No arguments."
I lifted my head to glare at her. My hair fell into my eyes. "I don't feel like going out, Mia. I just... I need to think."
"Thinking is overrated," Mia said. She crossed the room and grabbed my arm. She pulled me to my feet. She had surprising strength. "What you need is a drink. And maybe some dancing. Come on, it'll be fun. You can't stay here forever, Elena. You're starting to smell like regret and takeout."
I hesitated. My stomach twisted. But Mia's energy was like a tidal wave. I was too tired to fight it. Maybe a night out would clear my head. Shake loose the cobwebs. "Fine," I muttered. I brushed my hair out of my face. "But I'm not staying long."
Mia grinned, triumphant. "That's the spirit. Now go put on something cute. You look like a sad raccoon."
The bar was crowded. The air was thick with sweat, alcohol, and cologne.
Music pulsed through the floor. A steady beat vibrated in my chest. Lights flashed in dizzying patterns.
My head spun. I sipped my drink. Mia ordered something fruity and strong.
My mind wandered. She chatted with friends at the other end of the bar.
I couldn't focus on their laughter. Their easy talk. I only thought of Alexander. The way he looked at me when I left. His eyes dark, unreadable. His voice softened when he told me to be careful. Like he held onto me without saying it.
I thought about Rachel's call earlier. Her voice was sharp and firm. "He's miserable, Elena," she'd said. Her tone showed frustration. "He misses you. Sophia misses you too. She keeps asking when you're coming back. You need to talk to him. Tell him how you feel."
I brushed it off then. I mumbled about needing space. But now, with alcohol, her words echoed. Loud and clear. Maybe Rachel was right. Maybe I needed to talk to Alexander. To lay my heart on the line. To tell him I loved him. That I couldn't breathe without him.
But facing him. Seeing that steel mask crack. Or worse, stay in place. It made my stomach churn. So I ordered another drink. Hoping to dull the ache. Hoping to quiet the noise.
By my third drink, the room spun. The edges of my vision blurred. I leaned against the bar. My head rested on my hand. My thoughts were a mess.
I didn't notice the man at first. He sidled up beside me. His smile was too wide. His eyes too eager. "Hey, beautiful," he said. His voice was loud over the music. His breath reeked of beer. "You look like you could use some company."
I blinked. My mind was sluggish. I turned to look at him. He was tall, broad-shouldered. A cocky grin made my skin crawl. "I'm fine," I mumbled. I waved a hand. But my words slurred. I swayed on my stool.
"Come on, don't be like that," he said. He leaned closer. His hand brushed my arm. "Let me buy you a drink. You look like you need to loosen up."
I shook my head. I tried to pull away. My movements were slow, clumsy. "No, thanks," I said. My voice was sharper. But he didn't back off. His hand lingered. His smile tightened.
Before I could speak, a shadow fell over us. The air shifted. It was heavy and electric. I didn't need to look up. I could feel him. His presence was overwhelming. Like a storm rolling in. "Elena," Alexander said. His voice was low and tight. A growl. It sent a shiver down my spine.
I turned. My eyes widened. I saw him. His broad frame filled the space. His dark eyes locked on the man beside me. "Alexander?" I slurred. My voice was thick. "What are you doing here?"
"Marcus called me," he said. His gaze flicked to me. Then snapped back to the man. His jaw tightened. "He said you were here. And that you'd had too much to drink."
I blinked. My mind was foggy. But I caught the edge in his voice. The way his eyes darkened. The man beside me straightened. His smile faltered. But he didn't back down. "Hey, man, we're just talking," he said. He raised his hands. But there was a challenge in his tone.
Alexander stepped closer. His presence dominated. His eyes narrowed. "She's not interested," he said. His voice was low and dangerous. Each word was a warning. "Walk away. Now."
The man hesitated. His bravado crumbled under Alexander's stare. After a tense moment, he muttered something. He slunk away. He disappeared into the crowd.
Alexander turned to me. His face was unreadable. But his jaw was tight. His hands clenched. "You're coming home with me," he said. His voice was calm but firm. It left no room for argument.
I shook my head. My frustration boiled over. Alcohol fueled my defiance. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Alexander," I snapped. My voice rose, slurring. "You don't get to tell me what to do."
For a moment, we just stared. Tension crackled like a live wire.
The bar noise faded. Alexander exhaled sharply.
His patience snapped. Before I could react, he scooped me into his arms. I ignored my protests.
"Put me down!" I snapped. I pounded my fists against his chest. But my movements were weak, clumsy. He didn't flinch.
"Stop fighting me, Elena," he said. His voice was low. His grip firm but gentle. He carried me out of the bar. His boots thudded. Mia watched us go. A smirk on her face. Her drink raised in mock salute. "Good luck, Elena," she called. Her voice faded as the door swung shut.
At the penthouse, Alexander set me down on the couch. His face was unreadable. His eyes were dark, stormy. "Stay here," he said. His voice was quiet but firm. An order I couldn't ignore. "I'll get you some water."
I leaned back against the cushions. My head spun. The room tilted. I wanted to be angry. To yell at him for dragging me home. For acting like he owned me.
But the truth was, I was tired. My limbs were heavy. My thoughts were sluggish. Deep down, past the alcohol and anger, I was relieved. Relieved to be back. To feel his familiar presence. The safety of his walls.
Alexander returned with water. I took it without a word. My hands trembled as I sipped. The cool liquid grounded me slightly. He sat beside me. His gaze steady. His presence overwhelming. "We need to talk, Elena," he said. His voice was low. His eyes searched mine.
I nodded. My heart pounded. Alcohol made my emotions raw, open. "I know," I mumbled. My voice was thick. My head spun.
Alexander's eyes searched mine, looking for something. Then he nodded. He seemed to decide. "But not now," he said softly. His voice was low and soothing. But there was an edge. A dominance that made my pulse race. "You're tired. We both need a clear head. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"
I nodded again. I felt relief and fear. Tomorrow seemed far away.
But I wasn't sure I was ready for the talk.
Alexander stood up. His movements were gentle.
But his presence was still strong. It filled the room.
"You'll sleep in my room tonight," he said.
His voice was low. An order wrapped in care. "I'll take the couch."
I didn't argue. I felt comfort. The thought of sleeping in his bed. Surrounded by his scent. His presence. Alexander helped me to his room. His hand was steady on my arm. I felt a sense of doubt.
What would tomorrow bring? Could we fix our issues? Or would it be the end of us? The alcohol dulled my fear. But it couldn't erase it. I sank into his bed. His scent wrapped around me. I knew tomorrow would change everything.