Alyssa’s footsteps echoed through the hallway as she stormed toward her room, her heart pounding with a mixture of anger and confusion.
The night had been a whirlwind of revelations—his family, his name, his connection to the President.
And the way his mother and Jessica had so casually dropped those bombshells, as if she were nothing more than an outsider who didn’t deserve to know.
She reached her door, her hand trembling as she turned the handle.
She stepped inside and began to push it shut, desperate for a moment of silence, of solitude.
But the door stopped.
A hand, firm, unyielding had slipped between the frame and the wood.
Alyssa froze, her breath catching in her throat.
She knew that hand.
She knew the strength behind it.
She released the door, and Alexander pushed it open.
He stepped inside, his movements unhurried, and closed the door behind him with a soft click.
Alyssa didn’t look at him.
She walked to the bed and set her bag down.
She sat on the edge of the mattress and pulled off her heels, one by one, letting them fall to the floor with a dull thud.
Then she rose and crossed to the vanity, where she picked up a makeup wipe and began cleaning her face in slow, strokes.
Alexander sat on the bed, his eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror.
He watched every movement, the way her hand moved across her skin, the way her jaw was set tight, the way she refused to meet his gaze.
She knew he was watching.
She saw him through the glass.
But she said nothing.
Let him watch, she thought bitterly.
Let him see how little I care.
She finished cleaning her face, tossed the wipe into the trash, and stood.
Without a word, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
Alexander remained seated, his hands resting on his knees.
He knew she was angry.
He had seen it in her eyes the moment his mother had spoken, the moment Jessica had smiled.
She had kept her composure so well at the dinner table, processing every piece of information like a soldier receiving orders.
But he had seen the cracks beneath the surface.
He had wanted to tell her everything himself.
He had planned to explain who he truly was once they were alone.
But his mother and Jessica had stolen that from him.
At the thought of Jessica, his expression darkened.
His jaw tightened.
He rose from the bed and walked toward the bathroom door.
His hand reached for the handle
The door swung open.
Alyssa stood there, fresh-faced, her gown now held loosely in her hand.
She was naked, her skin still damp from splashing water on her face.
She didn’t see him.
Her eyes scanned the room, searching.
The bed was empty.
The chair was empty.
The corner by the window was empty.
He’s gone.
“You seem too happy to get rid of me.”
The voice came from behind the door.
Alyssa spun around, her eyes wide.
Alexander stood there, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
“Ahhh!” she screamed, clutching the gown to her chest like a shield.
Her face flushed crimson as she realized she was standing there naked, her gown held uselessly in front of her like a flimsy barrier.
He was behind the door the whole time?
How did I not hear him?
“You pervert!” she hissed, her voice shaking.
“What are you doing in my room?”
Alexander raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening.
“This is my house. I have the right to stay here.”
Alyssa’s mouth opened, then closed.
He was right.
This was his house.
She had no claim to any room here.
But that didn’t make this any less infuriating.
“Why did you call your husband a pervert?” he asked, his voice low, teasing.
“There’s nothing to hide. I’ve already seen every bit of you.” His eyes trailed down her body, lingering on the marks he had left on her skin.
“And I’ve marked you in places no one has ever marked.”
Alyssa’s face burned.
Her ears turned red, then her neck.
The hickey marks on her collarbone seemed to throb under his gaze, as if they were alive, reminding her of the night before.
Stop it, she told herself, gripping the gown tighter.
Remember you’re angry with him.
Don’t play the soft girl.
Don’t let him win.
But her heart was racing, and her resolve was crumbling.
She took a step back, her eyes blazing.
“Get out.”
Alexander didn’t move.
“Are you angry with me?” He asked, his voice low as he moved toward her, step by slow step.
“Yes, I am.” Alyssa’s voice wavered as she backed away.
“Why are you coming towards me?”
He didn’t answer.
He just kept walking.
Her leg hit the edge of the bed.
She stumbled backward, her arms flailing, and landed on the soft mattress with a muffled gasp.
Before she could scramble away, Alexander climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over hers, trapping her between his legs.
He smiled down at her, a slow, infuriating smile.
“Can you tell me why you’re angry, little lady with the big attitude?” His eyes traveled down her body, and his smile widened.
The gown she had been clutching had fallen to the floor, leaving her in nothing.
His gaze lingered on her plump breasts, then returned to her face.
“I’m waiting for your answer.”
Alyssa’s face burned.
She could feel the heat spreading from her cheeks to her ears, down her neck. The source of this chapter is g.com.
“Can we talk in a better position?” she whispered.
“I don’t like this one.”
He leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing her ear.
“Uhhhn, I can’t hear you. When did you say?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, her palm flying up to cover her face.
“I-I don’t like this position we’re in right now.”
Alexander watched her, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“I don’t see anything wrong with the position we’re in, little lady. Besides, I like it.” He tilted his head.
“So tell me why you’re angry, dear wife.”
“Don’t call me your wife,” she snapped, pulling her hand away from her face to glare at him.
“Why?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Because you lied to me.”
His expression softened.
“When did I lie to you? We haven’t had a good conversation since we came back. I know I kept my identity from you, and I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you when we got home, but my mom and Jessica beat me to it.” He paused.
“Am I forgiven?”
“No. You’re not.”
He sighed, but there was no frustration in it—only patience.
“Then what else do you want to know, my little lady?”
She held his gaze.
“Why do you want a child when you already have one?”
The question hung in the air.
Alexander’s eyes flickered, a shadow passing through them.
“Because of my family,” he said finally.
“Are you jealous?” he asked, his voice lighter now, almost teasing.
“Jealous of what? And who?”
“Aren’t you jealous of Jessica?”
Alyssa blinked.
“Jealous? Why should I be jealous of her? You two can date if you want.”
“We can’t date each other.”
“Why?”
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“Because my mom and family will suspect we’re in a fake marriage. And I don’t want that. So we have to act like a real couple.”
She stared at him for a moment, then let out a dry laugh.
“You really suck at acting.”
He raised an eyebrow, amused.
“How do I need to improve, my little lady?”
She looked at him, a spark of mischief igniting in her eyes.
“You want to learn from the master?”
“Yes.” His voice was soft, almost a challenge.
“Teach me, my little lady.”
Alyssa’s lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile.
She reached up and placed her hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm.
“Okay. Lesson number one.” She held his gaze, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“Touch me without restraint and control.”