The sharp trill of her phone alarm sliced through the morning silence.
Alyssa’s hand fumbled across the nightstand until her fingers found the device. She tapped the screen, killing the noise, and let her arm fall back onto the mattress.
She turned over, expecting to feel warmth, to see a face beside her.
But the other side of the bed was empty.
She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the pale light filtering through the curtains. The sheets where Alexander had lain were rumpled, but the heat had long since faded. He must have left hours ago.
And then the memories came flooding back.
The kiss. The way his lips had claimed hers, hungry and demanding. The grip of his hands on her waist, her hips, pulling her impossibly close. The weight of his body pressing her into the mattress.
And his dick.
Yes. She felt it.
He had held her tight as they slept, his body molded against hers, and she had felt it pressed against her. Hard. Thick. She could tell it was huge down there.
Alyssa. What are you thinking?
She slapped her own cheeks, the sharp sting pulling her back to reality. “Get up,” she muttered to herself. “Get a grip.”
She threw the covers aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her feet touched the cold floor, grounding her. She stood, stretched, and padded into the bathroom.
The shower was quick but necessary. Hot water cascaded down her skin, washing away the remnants of sleep and the lingering ghost of his touch. She stood there for a moment, letting the steam fill her lungs, before stepping out and wrapping herself in a towel.
She walked back into the bedroom, the towel discarded, and stood naked in front of the long mirror.
Her eyes traveled to her neck. The marks, the hickeys he had left the night before seemed to have faded a little. They were still there, faint purple shadows against her pale skin.
Good. They’ll be gone in a day or two.
She turned to the wardrobe and pulled it open. Her fingers brushed through the clothes. She selected a white vest top. A black bayu, sheer and flowing. High-waisted black pants.
She laid them on the bed and selected a black shoulder bag, sleek and minimal. White slingback heels with a delicate strap.
From the jewelry corner in the wardrobe, she picked a single silver earring, a small crescent moon that caught the light.
She dressed quickly, the fabric sliding over her skin. When she was done, she stood in front of the mirror again.
The black top covered her neck perfectly. No need for foundation to hide the hickeys. No need to cover up anything.
She gathered her hair and twisted it into a loose bun, leaving two strands free to frame her face.
Good enough.
She grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and walked out of the room. Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she made her way downstairs, ready to face whatever the day would bring.
She saw Alexander sitting on the dinning table and her eyes went to the little boy sitting on a high chair. In his tiny hands, he held a spoon, and he was expertly scooping up a piece of scrambled egg.
The boy looked up. His bright eyes met hers and he smiled. His teeth were small and milk-white, like little pearls.
“Good morning, Mummy!” he said, his voice high and sweet as a bell.
Alyssa’s heart stopped.
Mummy?
She blinked, certain she had misheard. But the boy was still smiling at her, waiting for a response. Her gaze shot to Alexander, who sat at the head of the table, cutting his toast with maddening calm. He didn’t correct the child. He didn’t even look up.
Did he teach him to call me that?
The thought sent a strange flutter through her chest. She should have corrected the boy. She should have said, I’m not your mummy. But when she looked at his round, hopeful face, the words died in her throat.
He was so cute.
It wouldn’t hurt, she thought, to be his mummy for a little while. Just for now.
She softened and walked closer, leaning down to meet his gaze. “Good morning, Baby Zaza. I hope you slept well.”
The boy nodded eagerly, his curls bouncing. “Yes, Mummy! Did you sleep well, Mummy?”
Did I sleep well?
Her eyes slid to Alexander. He was eating silently, his expression unreadable, but she caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips. The memory of last night came rushing back—the heat of his hands, the low growl of his voice in her ear, the way he had refused to let her go until the first light of dawn crept through the curtains.
No, she thought bitterly. I did not sleep well. Because a certain devil wouldn’t let me rest.
But she forced a smile for the little boy. “Yes, Baby Zaza. I slept very well.”
She straightened and turned toward the door. “I’ll see you later in the day.”
“Wouldn’t you have breakfast before leaving for work?”
Alexander’s voice was smooth, unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.
Alyssa halted. Her hand hovered near the door handle. She didn’t want to turn around. She didn’t want to look at that smug, handsome face. But something in his tone made her hesitate.
“I’ll eat when I get to the office,” she said without turning.
“Mummy!”
Baby Zaza’s voice made her heart clench.
She turned. The little boy was holding up his spoon, a piece of fried egg balanced on it. “Daddy woke up early to prepare this dishes,” he said, his voice full of pride. “Come have some eggs, Mummy!”
Alyssa’s eyes widened.
Alexander cooked?
She looked at the table again. There were dishes she hadn’t even noticed before—steaming rice, golden fried eggs, grilled fish, a bowl of soup, and fresh fruit. It was a feast. And Alexander sat at the head of it, looking like a king who had personally prepared a banquet for his queen.
Her chest tightened.
Did he really make all of this?
Before she could think, her feet were moving. She walked back to the table and sat down in the chair next to Baby Zaza. The little boy beamed and gently placed the egg into her mouth.
It was warm, fluffy and perfectly seasoned.
“Good, right?” Zaza asked, his eyes shining.
Alyssa nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yes, Baby Zaza. It’s very good.”
She looked at the little boy as he happily scooped more eggs onto his own plate. She loved children. She had always dreamed of having her own one day.
If I could raise a child like this, she thought, I wouldn’t mind at all.
She didn’t know who Zaza’s mother was. Alexander had never mentioned her, and she had learned not to ask. But sitting here, watching the little boy eat with such joy, she realized it didn’t matter.
She was only here temporarily. But for now, she could let herself pretend.
Across the table, Alexander watched them.
His son had done what he himself could not. With a single smile and a spoonful of egg, Zaza had made Alyssa sit down. She had refused him, but she couldn’t refuse the child.
Alexander’s lips curved into a faint, unreadable smile.
He picked up a clean bowl, filled it with rice and fish, and placed it in front of Alyssa with a spoon.
“Eat,” he said simply.
Alyssa looked at the bowl, then at him. “Thank you.”
She picked up the spoon and began to eat.
Then Baby Zaza reached over and placed a piece of fried egg on her plate. “Daddy said egg is good for the health,” he announced seriously.
Alyssa’s heart melted. “Thank you, Baby Zaza.”
She ate the egg. It tasted even better than the first one.
Just then, the front door opened. A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped inside. He had a strong jaw and a no-nonsense demeanor, but his eyes softened when he saw the little boy.
“Uncle Rufus!” Zaza shouted, nearly dropping his spoon.
The man, Rufus smiled and walked over. “Are you ready, young master?”
Rufus lifted the boy out of his chair with ease, settling him on his hip. Zaza waved his tiny hand at Alyssa and Alexander.
“Bye-bye, Mummy! Bye-bye, Daddy!”
Alyssa’s heart clenched again. She waved back, her voice soft. “Bye-bye, Baby Zaza. Be good.”
“I will, Mummy!”
“That’s Zaza’s bodyguard,” Alexander said, his voice casual as he buttered a piece of toast. “You’ll be getting one too.”
Alyssa’s fork froze halfway to her mouth. She looked at him, her brow furrowing. “But I don’t need a bodyguard.”
Alexander didn’t look up from his plate. “You will. You’re my wife now. And I will be announcing our marriage to the public today.”
The words hit her like a bucket of ice water. She set her fork down, her appetite suddenly gone. “Today?”
He took a sip of his coffee, calm and composed. “Today.”
She stared at him, trying to process. “You rarely make public appearances. There’s no picture of you on the internet. No videos. Nothing. And you decide to make an announcement all of a sudden today?”
Alexander finally looked at her, his dark eyes steady. “I’ll be at the country’s conference this morning. It’ll be airing live. I’ll make a speech.”
Alyssa’s mind raced. A live broadcast. The whole country watching.
“Oh,” she said, the word barely a whisper.
He nodded, picking up his napkin and dabbing the corner of his mouth. “We’ll be leaving tonight for a party. Make sure you come back early. Your driver will pick you up at your office this evening.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice hollow.
She finished the last few bites of her breakfast, her stomach churning. She stood up from the table, ready to escape, ready to breathe.
“Won’t you give your husband a kiss before leaving?”
She froze. Turning slowly, she saw him sitting there, his eyes on her, a hint of amusement playing at the corner of his lips.
Husband. Right. This is the game we’re playing.
She forced a smile, walked over to him, and pressed her lips to his. It was quick, dry, and utterly devoid of passion. But it was enough.
She pulled away and walked out the door without looking back.
Outside, the morning air hit her face, cool and fresh. She saw a man standing by a sleek black car, leaning against the door. He wore a leather jacket and dark trousers, his posture relaxed but alert.
He saw her and straightened up. “Good morning, Mrs. Blackwood. I’m Elvis. Your personal driver and bodyguard.”
Alyssa turned back to look at the mansion. Didn’t we just talk about this? I said I didn’t need a bodyguard.
She turned back to face Elvis. The man was… hot. Dark hair, sharp jaw, eyes that seemed to miss nothing. He looked like he belonged in an action movie, not standing in front of her.
“I’m Alyssa,” she said, her voice softer than she intended.
Elvis nodded and opened the car door for her. She slid into the back seat, the leather cool and smooth beneath her.
He got into the driver’s seat and adjusted the rearview mirror. “Where are we going, Mrs. Blackwood?”
She pulled out her phone and showed him the name of a café on the screen. “I want to stop here first.”
He glanced at the screen, nodded, and started the engine.
The ride was quiet. Alyssa leaned her head against the window, watching the city blur past. They arrived at the café. Alyssa stepped out of the car, smoothing down her dress. She turned to Elvis.
“Can you wait for me inside the car?”
His expression didn’t change. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Blackwood. I can’t do that. I was instructed strictly to stay with you wherever you go.”
Alyssa bit the inside of her cheek. Alexander. Of course.
She let out a breath. “Alright. Let’s go in.”
They walked into the café together, the bell above the door chiming softly as they entered.