Chapter 30 The Perfect Illusion #2
“You don’t even know, do you?” I said.
“I know enough,” she replied.
“And you still think he’s a good man?”
Ava looked toward the glass doors where Alexander stood inside, speaking calmly to a group of men who hung onto every word.
“He’s not gentle,” she said. “He’s not easy. He’s not soft.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“But he’s not heartless,” she continued. “You just don’t see the parts of him that I do.”
I let out a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it.
“The part where he orders everyone around? The part where he threatens me? The part where he looks at me like I belong to him?”
Her eyes met mine again, steady and thoughtful.
“He’s never had something he couldn’t control,” she said quietly. “You’re the first.”
I frowned. “Trust me, he controls me. He controls everything. Did he tell you he’s forcing me to have his child? What part of that sounds like he’s losing control?”
She didn’t argue. She just watched me carefully.
“It might not look like it to you,” she said, “but I can already see it. He’s struggling when it comes to you. And it’s only been a few days. Imagine a few months from now. You’ll have more power over him than you think. I’m sure of it.”
I almost laughed again.
Months from now I would control Alexander? In what world? The idea felt ridiculous. Delusional. She had to be blind to who her brother really was.
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” I asked flatly.
“No,” she admitted. “It’s supposed to help you understand why he reacts the way he does.”
“I don’t care why he reacts that way.”
“You will,” she said softly.
I stepped back slightly. “You keep saying he’s not that bad.”
“He’s not,” she insisted.
“He forced me.”
“Yes.”
“He is a mafia boss .”
“Yes.”
“He kills.”
She held my gaze. “Yes.”
I stared at her, waiting for the defense.
“But you don’t know the whole story,” she finished.
“And you think that changes what I saw?”
“I think it changes why he did it.”
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t want to live in a world where that logic makes sense.”
Ava’s expression softened then.
“You already are living in it,” she said quietly. “You just didn’t see it before.”
The music from inside drifted faintly into the garden. Laughter. Glasses clinking. Business being done over polished smiles.
“You’re asking me to see him in a different light,” I said.
“I’m asking you not to see him in only one,” she corrected.
“He doesn’t make that easy.”
“I know.”
I looked back through the glass doors.
Alexander stood tall, confident, in control of the room without raising his voice. People leaned in when he spoke. They listened.
Power followed him.
“You love him,” I said suddenly.
Ava didn’t hesitate. “He’s my brother.”
She smiled faintly. “You think love means approval?”
“No,” I admitted.
“It means understanding the worst parts of someone and still standing beside them,” she said. “I don’t agree with everything he does. But I know why he does it.”
“And what about me?” I asked. “Where do I stand in all that?”
She looked at me carefully.
“That depends on you,” she said
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” she said slowly, “you can fight him blindly and make him dig in deeper. Or you can learn how he thinks.”
“And then what?”
“And then you’ll realize he’s not as unmovable as he looks.”
I studied her face, searching for manipulation.
“You really believe that,” I said.
“I do.”
“And if I don’t?”
She gave a small shrug. “Then you’ll spend the next twelve months at war.”
The word landed heavy.
Twelve months.
“So you know it is temporary, why do I even have to try ,” I said quietly.
Ava’s eyes flickered slightly. “Everything with Alexander is temporary. Until it’s not.”
Before I could respond, the glass doors opened.
Alexander stepped outside.
His eyes went straight to me.
Not to Ava.
To me.
He didn’t look angry.
He didn’t look pleased.
He just looked… focused.
“There you are,” he said calmly.
Ava stepped back slightly, giving him space.
“We were just talking,” she said.
“I assumed,” he replied.
His gaze didn’t leave my face.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
The words sounded polite.
They weren’t.
It was control wrapped in courtesy. A reminder that he expected an answer.
I held his gaze, refusing to look away.
“For now,” I replied.
One corner of his mouth lifted, slow and deliberate. He liked that answer. Or maybe he liked that I was still standing.
“Good,” he said.
His hand settled on my lower back again. Not gentle. Not rough. Just firm enough to guide me exactly where he wanted me.
As we walked back inside, the noise and light swallowed us again. I glanced at Ava.
She was watching us.
Her face gave nothing away. Not a warning. Not approval. Just awareness. Like she knew something I didn’t.
Alexander leaned closer as the doors shut behind us.
“Did she try to convince you I’m some misunderstood hero?” he murmured near my ear. “Redeemable? A tortured anti-hero waiting to be saved?”
His breath was warm against my skin.
“No,” I said truthfully.
His hand tightened slightly at my back, fingers pressing into me just enough to remind me who was steering this.
“Good,” he replied.
There was no smile now.
“Because I’m not,” he continued, voice low and steady. “I don’t need saving. You don’t know what a monster is.” His tone darkened. “You don’t know how far I’ve gone. What I’ve done. What I’m still capable of.”
A chill moved down my spine.
He lowered his voice further, calm but absolute.
“I’m taking you home,” he said. “And I’m done pretending patience is a virtue.”
My pulse stumbled in my chest.
His eyes locked on mine, intense and unapologetic.
“I hope you’re ready.”
He didn’t wait for a response.
His hand remained firm at my back as he guided me forward, straight into the night, as if the rest of the world didn’t matter.