5. Alexandria
CHAPTER FIVE
alexandria
So, I slunk out of Dante’s penthouse like I’d never been there at all.
I had to. My career depends on it. And while I conceded to put the annulment talk on hold last night, we also have way more to discuss.
Still, it was hard to leave Dante and his muscular frame that was sprawled across the bed.
The dark sheet pulled down to his waist, exposing the sharp angles of his back and the red scratches my nails left on his skin.
Then there are those dimples right above his ass on either side that had me biting my lower lip.
One of his heavy arms was flung over the empty space where I’d been lying.
I held my breath and gathered my clothes off the floor, moving as quietly as a mouse in order to not wake him up.
Dante moves like a predator when he’s awake, possessively gripping me, kissing me until my mind goes blank, and destroys my ability to think rationally.
I didn’t want to think about how good he feels or the promises he whispered against my throat.
I needed air.
I needed my own space.
And so, I left with him being none the wiser.
Less than an hour later, I was back in the comforting confines of my own place. I showered, scrubbed, and lathered my body to rid myself of the scent of Dante to help keep my head clear of the overpowering alpha who pushes past all of my defenses.
By the time I step into Sterling Capital in my corporate armor—a tailored cream blazer, black button-down shirt with a ruffled collar, black wide-leg trousers, and red pumps for a pop of color—I feel like Alexandria Holland again, the competent career-oriented woman who has a plan.
I walk into the glass-walled office, set my leather bag on the desk, and look down at my left hand.
The emerald-cut diamond catches on the fluorescent light of the ceiling.
There’s no way I can wear the glowing beacon without being bombarded with a plethora of questions.
I pull the rings over my knuckle and drop them into the pocket of my pants, hiding the evidence.
Out of sight, out of mind.
I press the button to turn on my computer, waiting for the system to fire up, but before the lock screen loads, I hear my boss’ voice.
“Alex,” Vik says, his deep voice carrying over the quiet morning.
“Can you come into my office for a minute?” My friend, Romy, has really tamed the beast of a man.
He used to never ask questions, just barked orders.
And now that he’s being a nicer version of himself and I’m hiding a massive secret, well, my stomach decides to do a violent flip as the cold flood of dread returns in full force, making my throat go dry. He knows.
He has to know. Dante probably called him the second he woke up and realized his new wife pulled another vanishing act.
Vik will probably think I’ve lost my ever-loving mind—and newsflash: I have.
I’m legally married to a man I barely know, I’m currently ignoring the incessant buzzing of my phone, and to top it all off, there’s a very real possibility I could end up pregnant.
My mind goes into hyperdrive. Plan B pill. God, why didn’t I think of this earlier? Is it too late, now? How effective is it after Vegas? I need to get to a pharmacy the second I step out of this building for the day.
“Alex?” Vik calls my name.
“Right. Coming,” I squeak out, forcing my trembling legs to work in order to carry me across the floor and to his office. I’m so out of it, I nearly forget my tablet, notes, and a pen.
“Great job on the Las Vegas contract,” Vik praises me as I walk into his office and settle into a chair in front of his desk. I’m preparing my speech: It’s a mistake, Vik. I swear it won’t affect my work. I’m trying to get it annulled.
“What?” I blink, freezing midway.
“The contract with the Nevada group.” My boss is looking at me with genuine approval. “The legal team reviewed the terms you secured this morning. It’s pristine. The board is thrilled, and that’s not an easy feat. I just wanted to go over the final percentage you’ll be receiving.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I sit, utterly stunned.
Vik spends the next few minutes talking about how I took on more responsibility and did him a massive favor so he wouldn’t have to leave Romy alone while pregnant.
When he slides a piece of paper across the wood desk, six figures jump out at me, and I quickly do the calculations that taxes will take out.
Damn, it’s still a sweet deal, one I didn’t expect.
“Didn’t think I’d ever make you speechless, Alex.” He doesn’t know. Dante hasn’t call him, and Vik is giving me a massive amount of money I never expected.
“Well, you did. Maybe Romy should stay pregnant. It might make me a wealthy woman.” I manage to get my words together.
“That’s the goal. I just have to get her on board with that.” My eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.
“And that’s my cue to get started for the day. I love Romy, and you’re my boss, and, well, you get the gist.” Vik slides his tablet across the table. There’s a contract pulled up with my name, the date, the amount, and all of the other corporate jargon.
“Sounds good, and thank you, Alex. Truly.”
“You’re welcome.” I stand up, grabbing my items I didn’t need to begin with.
“And thank you as well.” I walk back out to my desk, my knees shaking so badly I barely make it to my chair before collapsing.
All of this pregnancy talk has me picking up my phone, hands shaking as I open my browser.
My fingers fly across the screen, typing into the search bar for Plan B effectiveness after two days.
I fall down a rabbit hole, leaning over my desk, hair falling forward to cover as much of my face as possible. My eyes scan the medical articles line by line. I’m so absorbed in reading about dosage windows, time limits, and all of the other jargon that I don’t hear anything else.
Including the elevator dinging, the doors sliding open, or the footsteps echoing down the hall.
I also don’t notice the sudden heavy silence that falls over the area where my desk is stationed outside of Vik’s office.
I only realize something is wrong when a towering shadow blocks the light from above.
A broad, calloused hand wearing a heavy ring reaches down and snatches my phone out of my grip.
“Hey!” I gasp a little too loudly, startling backwards, my hands flying up, and the words dying in my throat.
Oh fuck. Dante stands in front of my desk, looking far too handsome in a charcoal three-piece suit.
His dark hair is styled, his jawline is shadowed with dark stubble, and his amber eyes are burning a hole straight to my soul.
He glances down at the screen, and I watch his jaw clench so hard a muscle twitches in his cheek.
“What the hell is this?” His words come out on a low growl.
“Give it back,” I whisper-yell, scrambling out of my chair, face burning as I look around.
Thankfully, no one is around. “What are you doing here?” He doesn’t give me an answer.
Instead, his hand shoots out and long fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling me out of my seat, and he basically frog-marches me away from my area.
“We’re talking. Right fucking now.”
“I’m at work...” He doesn’t listen. I attempt to dig my heels into the carpet, but it doesn’t make him pause.
He pulls me with an effortlessness I should be used to by now.
I watch as his eyes scan the corridor. He spots an unmarked door, shoves it open, and hauls me inside before slamming the door shut behind us.
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” he rasps, his hands caging me against the wall on either side of my head, trapping me completely with the press of his hips between my thighs.
The space we’re in is tiny; it’s a coat closet we use when we’re hosting a meeting in the boardroom.
The room is dark, the air thick with his heat, his scent, and his energy.
“Me? You can’t just keep hauling me around any time you want to, and at my office no less. You’re creating a scene,” I hiss back.
“I’ll do what I want when I want, and that includes making a scene.” Dante leans down until his face is inches from mine. He shoves my phone between us, and the screen glows with my search results. “What is this, Alexandria? Is this Plan B?”
“You know exactly what it is.” My voice drops, stomach doing the same, but I force my chin up, pull my shoulders back, and meet his intense stare head on.
“We didn’t use protection, Dante! I told you, I’m not on birth control, and I’m not ready to have a baby with a man I married forty-eight hours ago! ”
“No fucking way,” he groans. The words torn from his chest are deep and heavy. “There is no fucking way you’re taking that.”
“It’s my body!” I argue, my hands coming up to press against his broad chest, feeling emboldened. “And it’s my choice!”
“You’re my wife, you’re carrying my name, you’re wearing my ring, and if you’re carrying my child, you’re keeping it. I am not letting you run because you’re too terrified about what we’re building.”
“We’re not building anything within two days.” I’m exasperated. Dante doesn’t see the need for personal space as he leans in closer.
“It isn’t just a weekend. It’s the beginning of the rest of our lives.
” His lips brush the shell of my ear, hot and demanding against my skin.
He reaches for my left hand, placing his on top, and that’s when he notices my finger is bare of his rings.
Dante looks from my hand to my face. “Where the hell are my rings, Alexandria?”
“I put them away. There’s no way I can wear an eight-carat diamond to work. People will ask questions.”
“Let them ask. Put the rings back on your finger, or so help me God, I will walk out into that hallway, find Vik, and announce to the entire fucking building that you belong to me.” He is being a pompous asshole.
“You wouldn’t,” I say sharply.
“Try me, wife.” A smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, though his eyes remain deadly serious. “Now, where are they?”
“In my pocket.” What is it about this man that makes me give in so easily?
Dante breaks eye contact, his hands traveling the length of my body until he finds what he’s looking for; it doesn’t take long.
The palm of his hand slips inside my pants, pulls out my rings, and guides them back on my finger in a matter of seconds.
“Precisely where they belong.” He leans down, capturing my mouth in a hard, dizzying kiss that steals the air from my lungs and leaves me breathless.