Chapter 16
The Reeves Estate had grown incredibly quiet over the past few days.
Grandmother Eleanor, Richard, and my dad had all returned to their respective homes earlier in the week. As much as I missed my dad's cheerful humming and Eleanor's sharp, witty remarks, the silence left me to figure out what it actually meant to be the lady of this massive fortress.
And on Thursday afternoon, I thought I had finally found a way to be useful.
The foyer was entirely overrun with flowers.
There were dozens of massive, extravagant arrangements.
Orchids, exotic lilies, and rare roses in heavy crystal vases.
They had been arriving for two days straight-wedding gifts from foreign ambassadors, state politicians, and military officials who weren't invited to the private ceremony but wanted to pay their respects to the General.
They were beautiful, but they were just sitting there. Alexander hadn't even looked at them when he walked past them the night before.
I, however, couldn't stop looking at them.
As a pediatric nurse, I knew exactly how bleak and sterile hospital rooms could be. I thought about the children's ward downtown. I thought about how much those kids would love to see something bright and beautiful instead of white walls and medical machines.
So, I made a decision.
I asked the estate manager to load all the flowers into a delivery van and send them to the pediatric hospital.
I felt incredibly proud of myself. It was a good deed. A practical use of extravagant wealth.
Until 1800 hours.
I was sitting in the library reading when the heavy oak doors opened.
Alexander stepped into the room. He was in his dark green uniform, looking as tall, broad, and intimidating as ever. But today, the air around him felt different.
It was sharp. Heavy. Like the drop in pressure right before a violent thunderstorm.
He didn't greet me. He stopped three feet away from my chair, his gray eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat.
"Where are the deliveries from the foyer?" he asked. His voice was a low, flat rumble. Completely devoid of warmth.
I blinked, setting my book down. "The flowers? I donated them."
Alexander went completely, unnervingly still.
He didn't blink. He didn't move. But the temperature in the massive library plummeted to freezing.
"You did what." It wasn't a question. It was a blunt, heavy statement.
I swallowed hard, my heart starting to beat a little faster. I tried to summon Mia's boldness. I stood up, pulling my shoulders back, determined not to let him scare me. I was his wife. I was allowed to make decisions about household items.
"I sent them to the children's hospital downtown," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "There were dozens of them, Alexander. They were just going to rot in the hallway. It was a waste. I thought... well, I thought it was a kind thing to do."
He took one slow step toward me.
"You dispatched unswept packages from foreign state officials to a civilian zone?"
I frowned, confusion battling with the rising panic in my chest. "They're just flowers! Why are you so upset? They are material things. I didn't think you cared about extravagant decorations."
I tried to hold his gaze. I really, really tried to look angry and defiant.
But as he stepped even closer, his towering frame completely casting a shadow over me, my fragile courage shattered into a million pieces.
His eyes were like cold steel. His jaw was clenched so tightly a muscle ticked near his ear. The sheer, overwhelming dominance radiating from him made my knees feel weak.
*Why does he have to be so terrifying?* I thought frantically, my hands beginning to tremble. *Why can't I just stand my ground?*
My shoulders slumped, and I instinctively took a step back, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.
Alexander saw me shrink away. He stopped advancing, but his voice remained as hard and blunt as a weapon.
"They are not flowers, Grace," he stated coldly. "They are diplomatic assets."
I stared at him, my trembling completely giving away my failed attempt at bravery. "What... what do you mean?"
"I do not care about petals. I do not care about crystal vases," Alexander said, his words sharp and direct. "I care that gifts from foreign intelligence sectors arrived at my home and you sent them into a vulnerable civilian hospital before my security team could sweep them."
My heart dropped directly into my stomach.
"Sweep them?" I whispered, the color draining from my face.
"For tracking devices. For audio bugs. For chemical agents," he listed bluntly.
"Furthermore, rejecting a gift from the Prime Minister of a bordering state without proper diplomatic protocol is considered a direct insult. You did not donate decorations, Grace. You created a national security breach."
A suffocating wave of horror crashed over me.
I couldn't breathe. My hands flew up to cover my mouth.
I wasn't a normal wife. I wasn't married to a normal man. I had treated the home of the Armed Forces General like it was a regular suburban house.
"Oh my God," I choked out, tears instantly springing to my eyes. "Alexander, I... I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know."
The absolute weight of his world came crashing down on my shoulders. Every decision he made, every package he received, every step he took carried massive, terrifying consequences.
"I'll call them," I babbled, my voice shaking uncontrollably as I reached for my phone on the table. "I'll call the hospital administration right now. I'll tell them to put the flowers outside. I'll go get them myself-"
"Stop."
His voice wasn't harsh this time. It was just an order.
I froze, looking up at him through blurred, tear-filled eyes.
Alexander watched my panic. He watched my trembling hands and the genuine, profound guilt written all over my face. The rigid, furious tension in his broad shoulders finally began to ease.
He didn't sigh, but a heavy exhale parted his lips.
He reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out his encrypted phone. He pressed a single button and held it to his ear.
"Ethan," Alexander ordered, his voice returning to its normal, calm depth. "Deploy a covert sweep team to the downtown pediatric hospital. Track the floral deliveries from this estate."
He paused, his gray eyes fixed entirely on my tear-stained face.
"Do not disturb the children," Alexander added quietly into the phone. "Sweep the vases. If they are clean, leave them there. Contact the diplomatic office and inform the envoys that I personally forwarded their gifts to the pediatric ward in their honor."
He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
I stood there, completely stunned by the flawless, instant way he had just fixed my massive mistake. He hadn't just secured the hospital-he had spun the political insult into a public relations victory.
He stepped closer to me. This time, I didn't back away.
Alexander reached out, his large, calloused fingers gently wrapping around my trembling wrist. He slowly pulled my hands away from my face.
"It is handled," he said bluntly.
"I am so sorry," I whispered, a single tear escaping and tracking down my cheek. "I just wanted to do something nice. I wasn't thinking."
Alexander reached up with his free hand. With his thumb, he caught the tear on my cheek, wiping it away with a startling gentleness that completely contradicted the terrifying man he had been two minutes ago.
"I know," he said softly.
He looked down at me, his intense gaze stripping away all the panic, leaving only the raw, electric connection between us.
"Your heart is pure, Grace. You acted out of kindness," Alexander stated, his voice a low rumble. "But you are my wife now. You live in a different world. You must learn the rules."
"I will," I promised quickly, looking up into his steel-gray eyes. "I promise I will."
He stared at me for a long, heavy moment. His thumb slowly traced the line of my cheekbone, his touch burning my skin. The conflict had vanished, completely replaced by a quiet, simmering intimacy that made the air in the library feel dangerously thin.
"Good," he murmured.
He didn't pull away immediately. He stood there, holding my gaze, the physical proximity between us completely intoxicating.
He was a man who commanded armies, yet he was standing in the middle of his library, quietly grounding a timid, twenty-two-year-old nurse who had just caused a national security headache.
Slowly, reluctantly, he dropped his hand and took a step back.
"Dinner is at 1900 hours," he said, adjusting the cuff of his uniform as if his heart wasn't beating any faster.
"I'll be there," I whispered softly.
Alexander gave a single nod, turned, and walked out of the library.
I sank back into my chair, letting out a long, shaky breath.
My husband was terrifying. He was blunt, uncompromising, and lived a life I barely understood.
But as I touched the cheek where his thumb had just been, I realized that behind all that cold steel, Alexander Reeves was also the most incredible man I had ever met.
The way he fixed her mistake and made it a PR win without yelling?! ???? The General is too smooth!
Drop a ?? if you loved this chapter! Do you think Grace will start adapting to his crazy military world soon? Let me know in the comments!
Mwaah!
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