Chapter 8 #3
But before I can step forward, before I can defend myself, Alexander’s lips curve into a smile that makes my blood run cold and hot all at once. “Really?” His voice is deadly soft, with an edge that makes me tremble despite my mortification. “That hasn’t been my experience at all.”
Amber’s smirk falters. Chase goes rigid, his face transitioning from red to white in the span of a heartbeat.
Alexander takes a step forward, and I watch both Amber and Chase instinctively retreat.
“In fact, I’ve found Olivia to be quite responsive.
” The pause is deliberate, loaded. “Remarkably passionate, actually. Intensely so.” His eyes cut to Chase with something dark and mocking.
“Perhaps the issue wasn’t Olivia’s capacity for passion, but rather a failure of inspiration on the part of her previous partner. ”
My heart stops. Mom’s hand grips mine so tight it almost hurts.
Chase’s face turns an ugly shade of red again, his jaw clenching, hands balling into fists at his sides. His entire body language screams humiliation and barely-contained rage.
Alexander continues, his voice carrying that same controlled edge.
“A woman of Olivia’s intelligence and spirit requires someone who can match her.
Who understands that passion isn’t something you take—It’s something you inspire.
” He pauses, his gaze sweeping over Chase with obvious disdain.
“Some men simply lack the necessary... skill.” The implication hangs in the air, devastating and unmistakable.
Chase looks like he wants to disappear into the floor. Or punch something. Possibly both.
“But beyond that…” Alexander’s voice shifts, becoming clearer, more absolute, “Olivia runs my entire company—a multi-billion dollar empire that would collapse without her competence and intelligence. How could I not be attracted to a woman who has both beauty and brains?”
My heart is pounding so hard I can barely breathe.
Amber’s face twists. “Women belong at home, not out doing men’s jobs.” The petulance in her voice is obvious, desperate.
Chase puffs out his chest slightly, and I feel a wave of disgust. Of course he agrees. Even after being utterly humiliated, he still needs to cling to his fragile masculinity.
Alexander’s smile sharpens into something dangerous.
“If Olivia ever decides to stay home, I won’t mind.
I can certainly provide for her.” He pauses, letting that sink in.
“But my woman has too much spirit, too much drive. I like watching her in action. I like knowing she could run circles around most CEOs I know.”
His gaze sweeps over Amber with obvious assessment. “The two of you are hardly alike. You could learn from her.”
“Excuse me?” Amber’s voice rises, shrill.
“I don’t mean anything by it,” Alexander says pleasantly, though we all know he means every word. “Just that I’m with Olivia because she’s my equal in every way that matters.”
“Her father fixes toilets for a living!” Amber hisses, and I feel Mom flinch beside me.
Alexander’s entire demeanor shifts. The temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees, and I watch his expression go cold. “I used to do that when I started out.”
Amber goes pale.
“I didn’t get to this point using my family’s money.
I built everything from nothing, including cleaning toilets and laying pipe when I had to.
” He takes another step forward. “And it doesn’t matter what a man does as long as it’s honest work.
Anybody can sell a car. It takes a particular skillset to do what Olivia’s father does.
” His voice drops, becoming quieter and somehow more dangerous.
“So you should think twice before insulting him in my presence.”
The silence stretches for a long moment.
Amber’s face flushes an angry red, her composure finally cracking. “She’s just with you for your money,” she spits out, her voice shrill and desperate. “That’s all Olivia cares about. She’s always been a gold digger, climbing her way up—”
Alexander’s smile widens, but there’s nothing warm about it. “Good,” he interrupts smoothly. “I have plenty of it.” The casual dismissal in his tone makes Amber’s mouth snap shut.
“And frankly,” Alexander continues, his voice pleasant but with an edge of steel, “I have better things to do with my time than stand here listening to you insult the woman I love.” He turns away from her, examining the music box again as if he’s done with this conversation.
“So if you could leave me alone, I’d appreciate it.
” The complete indifference in his voice—like she’s not even worth his attention—is more devastating than any insult could be.
Amber stands there for a moment, her face cycling through shock, rage, and humiliation. Chase reaches for her arm, clearly wanting to leave before things get worse.
“We should go,” he mutters.
“I think,” Alexander says without looking up from the music box, “that’s an excellent idea.”
Amber grabs Chase’s arm and practically drags him toward the door, her face blotchy with fury and embarrassment. He doesn’t resist, doesn’t defend her, just follows like the spineless coward he’s always been.
The bell chimes as they leave, and suddenly the tears I’ve been holding back threaten to spill over.
I press my fingers to my eyes, trying desperately to push them back.
Alexander is crossing the shop in three long strides, heading straight for the back room.
He appears in the doorway, and his eyes immediately find mine.
He doesn’t say anything—doesn’t ask if I’m okay or offer platitudes.
He just crosses to me in two steps and pulls me into his arms.
I bury my face against his chest, and his arms close around me, solid and warm.
The safety of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, the warmth of him—it all works to calm the storm raging inside me.
I focus on breathing, on the rise and fall of his chest, on the way his hand moves in slow, soothing circles on my back.
The tears recede. My breathing steadies. The tight knot in my chest slowly loosens.
I feel Mom’s hand squeeze my shoulder once before she quietly slips away, giving us privacy. We stand there for a long moment, just breathing together, and gradually the humiliation and hurt fade to something more manageable.
Finally, he asks softly, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I manage, my voice slightly muffled against his sweater.
He tilts my chin up with gentle fingers, studying my face with those intense gray eyes. His thumb brushes along my cheekbone. “You look pretty when you cry, too.”
Despite everything, I laugh—a watery, broken sound—and bat his hand away. “Shut up.” His lips curve into a small smile.
I sniffle, wiping at my nose with the back of my hand. “What a couple of jerks.”
“They are,” he agrees quietly.
I look up at him, suddenly feeling the need to defend myself. “I’m not—I’m not a dead fish in bed.”
“I know,” he says simply, without hesitation. Then his expression shifts, turning sly, that dangerous smile playing at his lips. “Though if you ever need to prove it to me, I wouldn’t mind.”
I laugh again, this time genuine, and shove at his chest. “Perv.”
He catches my hand, holding it against his heart. “Just making sure you know the offer stands.”
I shake my head, but I’m smiling now. “Amber came after you because she can’t stand the fact that I’m with a better man than her.”
“I’m aware,” Alexander says calmly.
“She’s always been like that. Competitive about everything.”
“She’s not my type,” he says, his voice matter-of-fact. “I like my women hardworking and ambitious.” His fingers trace along my jaw. “And with hazel eyes.”
Heat floods my face. “It’s okay, I already feel better. You don’t have to lay it on so thick.”
He takes my hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses the center of my palm, all while holding my gaze. The gesture is intimate, deliberate, and it steals the breath from my lungs.
“Alexander,” I whisper, my voice coming out pleading. “Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?”
“This.” I gesture weakly between us. “It’s making it hard to remember this is pretend.” The vulnerability in my voice surprises even me.
His eyes soften, and he gently pulls me back into his arms. This time, he leans down and presses soft kisses to my eyelids—first one, then the other—so tender it makes my chest ache.
“Letting you go was Chase’s biggest mistake,” he murmurs against my skin.
I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t know how to process the way my heart is racing, the way every word from his mouth feels too real, too much like something I want desperately to believe.
Mom’s footsteps approach the back room, and Alexander immediately steps back, putting respectful distance between us. When she appears in the doorway, her expression is somber, worried.
“Honey,” she says quietly, looking at me. “Are you okay?”
Alexander gives my hand one last squeeze before releasing it completely. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” he says, his voice back to that professional tone. He slips past Mom, heading back into the main shop, and I’m left standing there feeling like the ground just shifted beneath my feet.