Chapter 10 #2
The command is low, steady. It slides under my skin, coils around my ribs. I hesitate, biting my lip before I obey.
And when I do, I almost forget how to breathe.
In the soft restaurant light, Alexander is dangerously beautiful. All sharp lines and those impossibly blue eyes that pin me where I sit. His expression is unreadable, but it feels like it’s consuming me whole. Just his presence alone is too much.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep going.
“I don’t know why you did this,” I whisper. “But I will pay you back. Just… tell me how much.”
He exhales, shaking his head like I’ve just told him the most ridiculous thing.
“No.”
I stiffen. My nails dig into my palms.
“No?”
“I don’t want your money, Lucas.”
“Then what do you want?” My voice cracks at the end.
He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. The shift pulls me closer without him even touching me. His voice is smooth, deliberate.
“You know what I want.”
My pulse spikes. “I don’t.”
He only raises a brow, and the weight of it presses down on me harder than words. My lips part, useless, until the thought clicks into place.
“You want me to… teach you sign language?”
He nods once.
“That’s how you can repay me.”
I shake my head, voice scraping, throat burning from the strain. I haven’t spoken this much in years.
“That’s not the same. The hearing aids are expensive. Teaching you sign language doesn’t—”
“It does to me.”
I glare at him, grip tightening around the napkin until it wrinkles. My chest is tight, my breath too fast.
“I’m serious—”
“So am I.”
His tone doesn’t waver. Calm. Certain. Like he owns the conversation, owns the ground beneath us. It makes me want to scream. Instead, I grab my water, gulp it down in one messy swallow, and snatch my book and pen. Enough. Talking to him feels like bleeding.
My hand shakes as I scrawl across the page:
I don’t want to owe you anything. I don’t want to feel like I—
I stop. The words blur, threatening to betray me.
He reaches out and takes the notebook before I can stop him. His eyes flick down, then back up.
“Like you what?”
My gaze snaps to his. He’s watching me carefully, patiently, like he knows the answer and is only waiting for me to admit it.
My chest caves, air snagging in my lungs.
Like I belong to you.
I don’t write it. I don’t dare say it. But the thought roars so loudly in my head it feels impossible he can’t hear it.
And then—his gaze softens. Just for a breath. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter. Still steady. Still absolute.
“I don’t want your money, Lucas. I just want you to teach me.”
“Why me?” I say this time, shaking my head. “Why do you even want to learn?”
Alex’s expression doesn’t waver. His next words are simple.
“Because you use it.”
I stare blankly at him. His voice is so sure, so final. No hesitation. No ulterior motive. Just that.
My heart stutters.
“That’s not a good reason,” I say, but my voice comes out thinner than I meant.
“It’s the only reason that matters.” He replies.
My hands tremble in my lap. This is dangerous. The way he watches me. The way he won’t let go. He doesn’t even chase—and still, I’m the one unraveling. I need to say no. I should say no.
But my resistance is already cracking, and he knows it. He’s too patient, too sure, like a hunter waiting for prey to step closer.
“Fine,” I mutter, my chest tight. “But first—I need one honest answer.”
He tilts his head, considering, then nods once, like he’s indulging me.
“Robert Grey.” The name tastes like iron on my tongue. “You killed him, didn’t you?” My voice is barely above a whisper, thick with fear.
Alex doesn’t blink. “You saw me that night, Lucas,” he says, steady, unfazed. “Did you not?”
My stomach twists. I swallow hard. “So you did it… for the victim? Like revenge or—or…” I hesitate, shame burning my throat. “Are you a hired… assassin?”
The words sound stupid even to me, but I need to know. If I’m about to let this man in—into my life, into me—I need to know what I’m agreeing to.
For a moment, he just studies me, eyes unreadable. The silence stretches until I almost regret asking. Then, finally, he leans forward, forearms resting on the table. His voice drops to a monotone calm that chills me more than any threat could.
“Lucas, I hate people like that. And when they cross my path…” His jaw ticks, barely perceptible. “…I get rid of them.”
My breath catches. My pulse hammers in my ears.
“You’re not scared I’ll report this to the police?” I whisper, the question tearing itself out before I can stop it.
“No.” The word is sharp, immediate. His mouth curves into a small, practiced smile. Too calm. Too confident. “Now, let’s stop wasting time and talk about when you’ll start my lessons.”
Something in the way he says it, the unshakable certainty and the ease of it strikes something deep and reckless inside me. He should terrify me. He does terrify me. But fuck, the boldness, the danger, the way he carries it is intoxicating.
“You are so fucking annoying,” I snap before I can hold it back. The words tumble out raw, startling me.
He smirks, slow and deliberate.
“You’ll have to teach me how to sign that one.”
I groan, dragging a hand through my hair. My pulse is a mess, my thoughts worse. What the hell am I letting myself fall into?