Chapter 11（part 2） #2
Yes. I inhaled slowly. Summoning the bold, independent woman I pretended to be in my bathroom mirror.
"I have..." My voice cracked instantly.
Wonderful. So much for bold.
"I have one condition." Alexander looked up immediately. His hands folding back on the table. The full weight of his attention was back on me.
"I'm listening." My palms became instantly sweaty.
"It's probably silly."
"I'll decide after I hear it." That wasn't exactly reassuring.
I sat up straighter. Trying very hard to look brave. Even though my heart was doing frantic gymnastics against my ribs.
"I don't..." Come on, Grace. Just say it.
"...I don't want you..." Why was holding his gaze so incredibly difficult?
"...to..." Alexander waited patiently. Completely unbothered by my stuttering. "...order me around."
Silence. Deafening, heavy silence. I immediately wanted the floorboards to part and swallow me whole.
What kind of condition was that? He was a high-ranking military officer. Giving orders was the air he breathed. I panicked. The words tumbling out in a rushed, desperate babble.
"I mean—I know you're used to commanding battalions and giving orders, and I'm not one of your soldiers, and I just don't want to feel like I'm constantly being inspected for dust, or expected to salute you in the hallway, or stand at attention when you walk into the kitchen, and I just—"
Grace. Stop talking.
Right.
Now.
I clamped my mouth shut. My face burning with the heat of a thousand suns.
Alexander regarded me steadily for a long, agonizing moment.
Then, he leaned back in his chair.
"I'll try." I blinked. Thoroughly stunned.
"...Try?"
"My profession has made it a reflex." His voice remained perfectly serious. Though I thought I saw a dangerous glimmer of amusement in his storm-gray eyes.
"I may forget." I stared at him. "So..." "Feel free to remind me." I couldn't help the small smile that broke through my embarrassment.
"I think I'll be too scared to correct you."
"You'll adjust." The absolute certainty in his deep voice hit me. A fresh swarm of butterflies erupted in my stomach. Not romantic butterflies.
Panic butterflies. Definitely panic butterflies. He closed his folder with a decisive snap.
"Anything else?" I thought for a moment. Tracing the edge of my paper.
Then I shook my head. "No. I'm okay with everything."
"I have one condition." I immediately froze. Sitting up straighter. My brief moment of bravery completely evaporated.
"What is it?"
"When something is bothering you in the future..." His eyes locked onto mine. Stripping away every defense I had. "...don't pretend you're fine."
The room became incredibly quiet. The air suddenly felt charged. I wasn't expecting that.
"I..."
He continued, his tone low and observant. "I've noticed you smile whenever you're uncomfortable." "You use it to deflect."
My mouth fell open slightly. "You noticed?"
"I notice everything, Miss Zane."
I looked away. Swallowing hard. The fact that he could read me so easily was terrifying.
And... strangely intimate.
"I'll work on it," I whispered.
"Good." He stood up. His towering figure casting a shadow over the table.
"So..." "Are we agreed?"
This was it. The precipice. The moment that would irrevocably alter both our lives.
I looked at the contract one last time.
At the ridiculousness of my raw chicken confession.
His impossible 4:30 A.M. wake-up time. And the strange, quiet understanding that had just passed between us.
I picked up the pen. Slowly, I nodded.
"Yes." Alexander signed first. His signature was sharp, quick, and undeniably confident.
He passed the document to me.
My fingers trembled slightly as I pressed the ink to the paper.
Grace Zane.
When I finished, I pushed it toward the center of the table.
Neither of us spoke. There was no celebration. No dramatic music swelling in the background. No champagne. Just two strangers in a quiet room. Who had just bound their futures together.
... An hour later...
I practically collapsed into a faded red booth at my favorite corner café.
Mia took one look at my pale face. She nearly dropped her oversized iced coffee.
"...You survived."
"Barely." I wheezed, letting my head drop onto the cool tabletop.
She leaned forward dramatically. Her eyes wide with unhinged excitement. "Tell me everything." "Spare no details." "Did he interrogate you?
"There isn't much to tell, Mia."
"Grace." "There really isn't."
"You spent over an hour alone behind closed doors with the country's most notoriously intimidating General."
She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at me. "There is definitely something to tell."
I sighed, turning my head sideways to look at her.
"He was..."
"Yes?"
"...polite." Mia blinked slowly.
"That's it? Polite?"
"And terrifying."
"Ah. There it is." She took a sip of her drink, satisfied.
"He hardly smiled, I assume?"
"Barely a twitch." "And Mia... he wakes up at four-thirty in the morning. Willingly."
"A literal monster," she agreed solemnly.
"What else?"
"He noticed everything."
"What do you mean?"
"He knew I was nervous before I even sat down."
"He noticed how I was holding my pen like it was a weapon." Mia whistled. Leaning back.
"Intense." "He even figured out that I smile when I'm uncomfortable."
Her teasing grin slowly faded. She looked at me, genuinely surprised.
"He noticed that? Already?" I nodded against the wood of the table.
"I didn't even realize I did it." Mia rested her chin on her hands. Her eyes narrowing as she processed the information. "Hmm."
"What does 'hmm' mean?" "It means I think the big, scary General pays a lot more attention to you than he lets people see."
I rolled my eyes. Finally lifting my head. "Don't start with the romantic conspiracy theories."
"I'm serious! Did anything else happen?"
"He had chamomile tea brought in for me because he said it 'calms people.'" Mia gasped dramatically. Clutching an invisible pearl necklace at her throat.
"He got you tea?"
"He didn't make it, he just ordered it."
"It still counts!"
"It absolutely does not."
"It counts, Grace. The man is observant." Mia leaned closer. Wriggling her eyebrows.
"So... did you assert any form of dominance? How did it go exactly?" I couldn't stop the flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck.
Not as I remembered my rambling. "I made a rule."
"Oh?" Mia's eyes lit up.
"I told him not to order me around."
"And I might have babbled uncontrollably about not wanting to salute him in the hallways like a soldier."
Mia's jaw hit the floor. "You did what?"
"I don't know where the courage came from!" "And then it completely abandoned me halfway through the sentence!"
I groaned, covering my face again. "It was awful."
"And? What did he do?"
"Did he yell? "
He said..." I couldn't help the small, reluctant smile that tugged at my lips. As I recalled his deep, deadpan voice. "'I'll try.'"
Mia stared at me for three full seconds. Then she slapped the table softly.
"I like him."
"Mia!"
"What?" "He's terrifying, but he's funny in a very... dry, terrifying, General way."
I shook my head. Staring at the condensation dripping down her iced coffee cup.
"I still don't understand him." "He knows about the raw chicken incident with Dad, Mia."
"And the kitchen fire."
"Oh my God," she wheezed. Covering her mouth to muffle her laughter.
"You are never going to live that down." "He's going to ban you from the stove."
"I know."
She reached across the table. Her laughter finally subsiding.
She squeezed my hand reassuringly.
"You don't have to figure him out right away."
"Just take it one day at a time, G." I looked out the café window at the busy afternoon street. Watching people go about their normal, uncomplicated lives.
One day at a time.
That sounded manageable.
I just desperately hoped... The next day wouldn't flip my world upside down all over again.