Chapter 39 – Alec
ALEC
Days of planning, endless nights at the office, calls with various law enforcement agencies, and money exchanged under the table, all to hit Dante where it would hurt the most. And tonight, just a touch of that weight was lifted off my chest when I got the call from Sebastian’s contact that everything went according to plan.
Even so, it’s not over yet.
We still don’t know where he is or the extent of the network he’s built here in Fortune City. But with all his focus here, trying to dismantle what we’ve spent years building, we were able to hit him hard enough on his own turf that it’ll take him a good long while before he gets back up again.
And he can’t hide from us forever.
I take a sip of my coffee, eyes flicking to the kitchen clock. There’s still so much to do, so many things to juggle. I doubt I’ll get more than a few hours of sleep tonight.
There’s a knock on the front door, a quick rap against the wood.
I consider ignoring it, taking another gulp of coffee. There’s no way in hell someone got through our security gate and up to the front door of our compound unless they’re meant to be here. Which means it’s one of my brothers, finally coming home, or someone on the staff.
But they knock again. Louder.
Tossing my paper down in irritation and leaving my coffee on the kitchen table, I make my way over to the door.
“For fucks sake, Ash,” I grumble. “I’m not making you another set of keys. You have to keep an eye on your—”
The words die in my throat the moment the door swings open.
Sydney. She’s standing there in the doorway, hands clasped behind her, staring at me.
“Hi,” she says, and the sound of her voice cuts through me like a knife.
I can’t speak. I just stand there, staring at her like I’ve seen a ghost. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn't be anywhere near me. And yet…here she is.
“Well, I’m coming in,” Sydney says, pushing past me. She slips through the door and into the antechamber, moving through the entryway of our mansion like she belongs here. I don’t try to stop her. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. My eyes follow her every step.
She belongs here, surrounded by luxury. She fits, like I made this home just for her, without realizing it.
“Holy shit!” Sydney gives a little laugh as she spins, staring at the compound around us, eyes trailing over the leather furniture and dark wood accents.
“I mean, holy shit! I don’t even… Wow!” She looks at everything, awestruck, her lips parting as she wanders through the hall.
She steps past the kitchen, into our sitting room, eyes wide as she takes in the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the valley and, in the distance, the entire city skyline stretching out below us.
The low lighting lets us see the entire cityscape, spanning as far as the eye can see.
Her astonishment is genuine, and it guts me. Because I’ve never let her see this side of me—never let her in.
“This might be the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen. I’m speechless, I can’t believe you’ve never invited me over here before!” She turns to me then and scrunches up her nose. “I mean, maybe I can. Considering.”
My body is still rooted to the doorway. My brain screams at me to speak, to say anything, but all I can do is stare at her, memorize her like she might vanish again if I blink.
And then she’s walking toward me, fearless, determined, her small hand wrapping around my wrist. Her touch jolts me back into myself, grounds me. She tugs me gently toward the sitting room couch and guides me over to sit on it like she’s the one in control.
“You promised me time. And I appreciate that. But now it’s time for you to tell me the truth. All of it,” she says, moving to stand between my legs. She looks down at me, from where I’m seated on the couch, face stern.
My voice comes out raw, strangled. “You’re here.”
“I am,” she tells me. “Because I hate this. I hate being away from you. You fucked up, and I’m still furious at you, but…” She places one knee on the couch and slowly climbs into my lap, straddling me. A breathy groan slips out from between my lips. “I’m not ready to let this go. Are you?”
I can’t look away from her. Her wild brown curls, her sweet face. She’s everything.
“If this is going to work, I need you to look me in the eye and promise me I’m not the other woman,” she says.
“You’re not, darling,” I tell her. My hands raise to her hips, gripping her like I’ll fall apart without her. “You never were.”
“You’re married?” she asks, voice soft but deadly. Her hands rest against my chest.
I nod.
“But it never meant anything?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. It meant nothing.”
Loosely, she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me a little closer. “Why did you lie? Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I tried,” I say, honestly. I grip her even tighter.
“Bullshit,” she says defiantly, eyes narrowing. And I love seeing it, love seeing her stand up for herself, even against me. “It’s not just about her. It’s all of it. Tell me why you lied to me.”
I take a deep breath, because all this time without her, I’ve gone over that time and time again and never got a good answer.
“I liked the way you looked at me,” I finally admit. “The person you thought I was. I didn’t want to lose that.”
She assesses me, analyzing, looking for a lie in what I’ve said. But there’s none to be found, because as selfish as my reasons were, that’s what it boils down to.
I don’t deserve her. I never have. But I wanted to be someone who did.
“Don’t ever lie to me again,” she insists. She shifts a little on my lap, then tentatively lowers her face to mine, pausing just before the kiss as if giving me a chance to stop her.
But when she leans in, when her lips brush mine, all my resolve shatters.
She kisses me like I’m the air she’s been starving for, and I can’t stop myself from answering with everything I’ve kept buried. My hands are on her, pulling her closer, greedy, desperate. The sounds she makes, fuck, I could drown in them.
Sydney rocks herself against me, my mouth devouring hers, and I know she can feel it when I harden beneath her.
Everything finally feels right. I deepen the kiss, exploring her mouth with my tongue, pulling her body into mine.
She breaks away from me, and I take the opportunity to flip her onto her back, pressing her against the dark leather of the couch.
Her breath stutters when my hand slides under her shirt and my fingers find her nipple. She pulls me down to her, kissing me deeply, rocking her hips up to feel every inch of me.
“I need to feel you,” she pants between kisses, clawing at my shirt. “Please. Alec.”
My shirt is gone before I realize I’ve stripped it off, and hers follows a moment later, hitting the floor next to mine. She’s reaching for my belt, frantic, and I want—fuck, I want her more than I want anything else in this life.
But then her wrists are in my hands, pinned above her head. My other hand wraps around her throat, and I look down at her squirming beneath me, begging. “Please,” she murmurs.
She’s so fucking beautiful, writhing desperately beneath me. Too beautiful.
And I’m still lying to her.
“I missed your hands on me,” she says breathlessly. She doesn’t feel how I’ve suddenly stilled, how I’ve gone tense. “Make me forget. Make me forget everything.”
Make me forget that you lied to me.
That you’re still lying to me.
Because I am. She’s come back, ready to forgive me, willing to lend me her trust. And I’m still lying to her. Lying to her about Dante, lying to her about the danger she’s in. The growing danger I’ll be putting her in if Dante sees me with her.
I kiss her once more, desperately, and then I wrench myself away. She’s trembling, breathless, lips swollen from my kiss. And pulling away from her is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“I can’t do this,” I choke out, my voice rough. “I’m sorry. I can’t. This is a mistake.”
Sydney freezes, her eyes wide, confusion flickering across her face.
She doesn’t say anything, just stares at me like she doesn’t understand why I’ve stopped.
I reach for her shirt, wanting to cover her, to do something that will soften the blow, and when my fingers close over the fabric and I hold it out for her to take, I see it dawn on her.
Her lips part. “Oh,” she says, taking her shirt back and clutching it to her chest. Color floods her cheeks, shame filling her eyes, and I hate myself in a way I didn’t know was possible.
“I’m sorry,” I say, reaching for my own shirt. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s all I want. But I can’t do this until I can be completely honest with you. You told me to never lie to you again, but there are things I can’t tell you. Not yet, not if I want to keep you safe.”
But she’s already moving.
“Sydney, wait!”
She’s scrambling to get off the couch, to get away from me. My chest seizes as I watch her pull her shirt back over her head, a noticeable quiver in her voice as she says, “You can’t tell me? Or you won’t tell me?”
“Red.”
But Sydney is already moving past me, through the compound and towards the door.
“God. I’m such an idiot. Here I am, laying myself bare to you when it should be the other way around. You should have been knocking down my door, begging for my forgiveness. So, yeah, you’re right,” she says. She won’t look at me. “This was a mistake.”
Then she’s rushing down the entryway, throwing the door open, and disappearing into the night. And I’m watching her walk out of my life once again.
And just like last time, I let her go.
I don’t know how long I sit there, sinking into the couch, wallowing. The smell of her still clings to the air. Coconuts and new books.