Chapter 29
**[Grace's POV]**
I couldn't breathe.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my tiny apartment, staring at a woman I barely recognized.
The custom black silk gown Alexander had sent fit me like a second skin.
It was impossibly elegant-a sweeping neckline that sat just off my shoulders, a fitted bodice that accentuated every curve, and a daring slit up the thigh that felt entirely too bold for the shy pediatric nurse I was.
"Oh. My. God," Mia breathed, standing in the doorway holding a makeup brush. "Grace. You look like the Queen of the Underworld, and I mean that in the most complimentary way possible."
I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as I smoothed the silk. "I'm terrified, Mia. What if I get there and he just wants to officially finalize things? What if this is his way of punishing me for leaving?"
Mia walked over, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to look at her in the mirror.
"G, listen to me. A man does not send a four-man tactical hit squad to a pediatric clinic, dress you in thousands of dollars of custom silk, and drag you to a nationally televised Presidential event just to sign some paperwork. That man is going to war for you. Now, put your shoulders back,
be brave, and go get your husband."
An hour later, I was sitting in the back of a massive armored military convoy, flanked by my four terrifying, silent guards, speeding toward the Capitol.
When we pulled up to the grand, sweeping steps of the national auditorium, it was absolute chaos.
Thousands of people lined the barricades.
Flashbulbs from hundreds of press cameras went off like strobe lights, blinding me as the guards formed a human shield, expertly guiding me through the sea of reporters.
"Mrs. Reeves! Right this way," Ethan's voice cut through the noise. He was waiting at the VIP entrance, looking sharper than ever. He offered me his arm, completely ignoring the frantic reporters shouting questions at us, and led me inside.
The interior of the auditorium was breathtakingly massive, draped in American flags and packed with highest-ranking politicians, generals, and dignitaries in the world.
Ethan led me straight to the dead center of the front row.
Sitting there, radiating effortless elegance, was Grandmother Eleanor. Beside her was Richard Reeves, wearing his own formidable dress uniform.
"Grace, darling," Eleanor beamed, taking my trembling hand and squeezing it warmly. "You look absolutely devastating. He won't stand a chance."
Richard offered me a gentle, reassuring smile. "It is good to see you, Grace. Keep your eyes on him today. Only him."
Before I could ask what he meant, a booming voice echoed over the PA system, bringing the thousands of people in the room to a dead, respectful silence.
*"Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States."*
The crowd stood as the President walked onto the stage. But I didn't look at the President.
My breath completely vanished from my lungs.
Walking onto the stage behind the President was General Alexander Reeves.
He was wearing his full, immaculate midnight-blue dress uniform.
His broad, massive chest was adorned with rows of glittering commendations.
His jaw was locked in rigid steel, his posture radiating a terrifying, absolute authority that made every other man on that stage look insignificant.
He was the Supreme Commander. He was a warlord in a tailored suit.
And the absolute second he stepped to the podium, his storm-gray eyes swept the massive crowd, bypassed the senators, bypassed the cameras, and locked entirely, magnetically onto me.
My heart violently slammed against my ribs.
Even from twenty feet away, the possessive, burning intensity in his eyes made my knees weak. He didn't look away. For the entire duration of the President's ten-minute speech detailing Alexander's classified heroics, his bravery, and his strategic brilliance, Alexander just stared at me.
*"...It is my profound honor to award the Congressional Medal of Honor to General Alexander Reeves,"* the President concluded, turning to Alexander.
Alexander stepped forward, dipping his head just enough for the President to place the heavy gold medal around his neck. The room erupted into deafening applause.
Alexander stepped up to the microphone.
The applause died down. Millions of people watching on live television waited for the military hero to give his standard, disciplined speech about duty and country.
Alexander gripped the edges of the podium. His knuckles turned white. He looked out at the sea of faces, and then, slowly, his eyes drifted back down to me.
"I have spent my entire life following orders," Alexander's deep, gravelly voice echoed through the massive auditorium, sending a shiver straight down my spine. "I have operated on logic, protocol, and honor. I believed that duty was the highest calling a man could achieve."
The room was pin-drop silent. The President looked slightly confused, as this was definitely not the pre-approved speech on the teleprompter.
"But I was wrong," Alexander continued, his voice dropping into a lower, rougher register that vibrated through the speakers. "Because all the duty in the world, all the honor, all the medals... they mean absolutely nothing if you come home to an empty fortress."
A collective gasp rippled through the press pit. Eleanor squeezed my hand so hard it hurt.
"Two weeks ago, I tried to be an honorable soldier," Alexander said, his eyes burning with a vulnerability that completely shattered his terrifying aura.
"I tried to protect the person I cherish most by pushing her away. I told her the darkness of my world would destroy her. I thought I was protecting her. Instead, I broke her heart. And I broke my own."
Tears instantly blurred my vision. I clamped a hand over my mouth, a sob getting trapped in my throat.
Alexander didn't say another word into the microphone.
Instead, the Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces turned away from the podium. He walked right past the President of the United States. He walked down the steps of the stage, completely abandoning military protocol.
The Secret Service shifted nervously, but Ethan shot them a look so lethal they froze in place.
Alexander marched down the center aisle, the cameras swiveling frantically to track him. The crowd parted like the sea. He didn't look left or right. He walked straight to the front row, stopping exactly one foot in front of me.
Up close, I could smell the familiar, intoxicating scent of cedar and rain. I looked up into his storm-gray eyes, and for the first time, the terrifying General wasn't masking his feelings. His soul was completely bare.
Alexander reached into the breast pocket of his uniform. He pulled out the crisp, folded divorce papers I had signed two weeks ago.
Without breaking eye contact, he grabbed the papers in both hands and ripped them straight down the middle. Then he ripped them again, letting the shredded pieces fall to the floor like snow.
"Alexander..." I choked out, a tear spilling over my lashes.
He didn't speak. Instead, he reached up with his left hand, pulling off his pristine white military glove.
My breath hitched. There, resting securely on his massive pinky finger, was my diamond engagement ring and my platinum wedding band. He had been wearing them. The entire time.
Then, the absolute impossible happened.
General Alexander Reeves-the unyielding, uncompromising warlord who bowed to absolutely no one-stepped back, grasped my left hand in his, and dropped gracefully down onto one knee in front of thousands of people and live television cameras.
The entire auditorium erupted into a state of absolute shock. Flashbulbs went off like lightning. I heard someone in the press pit actually scream.
But I didn't care about the cameras. I didn't care about the President. I only cared about the man kneeling at my feet, looking up at me with such raw, desperate devotion that it knocked the breath from my lungs.
"I made a vow to your father, Grace," Alexander said, his deep voice carrying over the stunned murmurs of the crowd, completely raw and utterly possessive. "I fulfilled my duty to him. The contract is dead."
He slowly slid the heavy diamond ring off his pinky, his rough, calloused fingers trembling slightly as he held it up to me.
"Now," Alexander whispered fiercely, his eyes begging me, claiming me. "Let me earn your love. Let me be the man who catches you in the dark. Come home to me, Grace. Please."
The walls I had built around my broken heart instantly, completely disintegrated. All the fears, all the insecurities-they vanished into thin air. He wasn't acting on duty. He was laying his entire life, his entire reputation, bare at my feet.
"You don't have to earn it," I sobbed, tears free-falling down my cheeks as I looked down at my incredible, terrifying husband. "You already have it, Alexander. You've always had it."
Alexander let out a ragged, breathless sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. He shoved the rings onto my trembling finger, practically throwing them on, before he shot up from the floor.
He didn't care about the audience. He didn't care about decorum.
Alexander's massive hands cupped my face, his thumbs wiping away my tears, and he crashed his lips down onto mine.
It was devastating. It was explosive. It was everything I had been starving for over the past two weeks.
The kiss was wildly possessive, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, claiming every inch of my soul.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my hands in his dark hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love I had inside me.
The auditorium completely exploded. The crowd was on their feet, cheering, clapping, and screaming. I vaguely heard Grandmother Eleanor let out a triumphant laugh, and Ethan clapping loudly.
Alexander pulled back just a fraction, his chest heaving against mine, his forehead resting against my own. He was completely out of breath, a rare, devastatingly handsome smile breaking across his harsh features.
"You are never taking those rings off again," he growled affectionately, his thumb tracing my lower lip. "Do you understand me, Mrs. Reeves?"
I laughed through my tears, looking up into the eyes of the man who had finally surrendered his heart to me.
"Yes, Sir," I whispered.
And as he pulled me in for another earth-shattering kiss in front of the entire world, I knew with absolute certainty that the storm was finally over. I was exactly where I belonged.