Chapter 57

ALINA

This wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

Alexander—couldn’t be sitting in front of me right now, speaking with a voice laced in softness, remorse.

And yet… he was.

“I shouldn’t have treated you like that,” he said quietly, his gaze holding mine as though he was searching for something there.

Oh, now he’s self-aware. How convenient.

“I can’t apologise enough. But please know—I am truly sorry.”

Right.

Sorry—after everything.

That makes it all better, doesn’t it?

He gently placed my trembling hands on his knees again, and the warmth of his palms seeped into my skin.

I didn’t know if it was meant to ground me or him.

Then, slowly, he reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brushed against my cheek, lingering for a second too long.

I flinched—barely—but he didn’t pull away.

“You should get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low, eyes soft—but unreadable.

“I know you couldn’t have slept on that chair... not really.”

Wow, look who suddenly cares about sleep comfort. Maybe next he’ll ask if I prefer silk sheets too.

I didn’t trust myself to speak.

I didn’t trust any of this.

His expression didn’t waver.

Calm.

Controlled.

Like he meant every carefully measured word tumbling from his lips.

“Please forgive me for my horrible actions,” he said, voice dipping lower, now laced with something that almost resembled regret.

“I promise—this won’t happen again. You’re safe here. Nobody will ever mistreat you again. Not under my roof.”

I stared at him, eyebrows slightly raised, lips drawn tight.

Safe? Under his roof?

Right.

Of course.

Because you’ve been such a shining example of kindness since day one—real prince charming, I thought, biting back the words.

I almost snorted.

My eyes narrowed further as I tilted my head, silently studying him with a mixture of suspicion and thinly veiled sarcasm. I watched for a crack, a twitch, a flash of something behind that perfectly arranged mask.

Anything to betray what this really was—a performance, a tactic.

But nothing came. Just sincerity… or a damn good imitation of it.

He wanted me to believe him.

Trust him.

Fall for this sudden kindness.

I didn’t say a word.

But the look I gave him said it all.

I wasn’t buying it.

Not yet.

He held my stare, and for a moment, I felt as though the world had slowed.

His blue eyes shimmered beneath the warm light—still intense, still carrying that familiar danger—but now softened by something else.

Something I couldn’t name.

This was Alexander.

Cold.

Arrogant.

Brutal.

He didn’t show remorse.

He didn’t say sorry.

But this man, sitting next to me, speaking with quiet reverence, almost like I mattered…

It was disarming.

Surreal.

And yet—despite everything—something inside me stirred.

A flicker.

A stupid, fleeting flutter in my chest.

I crushed it.

Because no.

No, I hadn’t forgotten.

I hadn’t forgotten the cold, damp basement where he left me like I didn’t matter.

I hadn’t forgotten the hours tied to a chair, aching, starving, and terrified.

I hadn’t forgotten how he’d spoken to me—like I was his property.

A possession he could use and discard whenever he pleased.

So no, I didn’t trust this softness.

Not the apology.

Not the concern.

Not him.

This sudden shift, this new version of him—it felt like a trick.

A new layer of the cage.

And yet, against my will, my mind clung to it, desperate for something steady, something kind.

But I knew better.

I had to know better.

Because a man like him doesn’t change overnight.

And if I let myself believe he had… I’d break for real this time.

Suddenly, he pulled back, but a faint, almost reluctant smile curved his lips.

“There’s food here,” he said, nodding toward the tray resting on my nightstand. My eyes flicked back to him as he continued, his voice softer now, almost tender.

“Please eat. You must be feeling weak… after being—” He stopped, as if the words caught in his throat.

“You need rest. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

A big day?

My brows drew together.

What could that mean?

Had my father finally arranged the money?

Was this the moment I was supposed to return to my old life?

Was that why he was suddenly… being kind?

Questions swirled in my mind, each one tightening like a vice.

“What’s happening tomorrow?” I asked cautiously, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t hesitate.

“You’ll find out,” he said simply, offering nothing more.

Just those three words—and then silence.

I nodded slowly, eyes fixed on his face, searching desperately for any hint—any flicker of deception or hidden motive.

But his expression remained unreadable, a blank mask that gave away nothing—just an impenetrable calm that left me more uncertain than before.

Alexander sighed, a long, weary sound that seemed to drain the last bit of strength from him.

Without another word, he rose and stood over me, his gaze locked onto mine.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, his voice low and steady—calm in a way I hadn’t expected, as if the weight of everything between us had softened, even if just for a moment.

My chest tightened, confusion churning wildly inside me.

What was happening?

This was the same man who had kept me tied to that chair for endless hours—deprived of food and water, the one who had inflicted so much pain and deserved to be haunted by guilt.

And yet, here he was, tending to my wounds, showing concern that I was weak.

Despite it all, my heart twisted with suspicion, unable to trust this sudden softness.

As I wrestled with my conflicted feelings, he spared me one final, lingering glance before turning away.

The door clicked shut softly behind him, leaving me alone in the dim quiet of the room—speechless, bewildered.

Who was this man?

This new Alexander?

No.

He wasn’t changed.

He was calculating, scheming, hiding something deeper beneath this fragile mask.

But what?

I stared down at the tray of food, my stomach growling in protest.

The scent was warm and comforting—soft bread, something buttery, and a bowl of soup that was still faintly steaming.

Slowly, cautiously, I picked up the spoon.

My hand trembled as I brought it to my lips, the first bite tasting like something from another life.

But I didn’t relax.

With every small bite, my eyes flicked toward the door, expecting it to swing open at any moment.

I imagined Alexander barging in, yanking the tray from my hands and dragging me back to the cold, dark basement.

The fear was lodged deep in my chest, like a splinter I couldn’t remove.

But the door remained closed.

I set the spoon down quietly and leaned back against the headboard, my gaze falling to the clean white bandages on my wrist. He had done this.

He had treated my wounds, brought me food, and… apologised.

And he’d kissed my wrists—gently, like I was made of glass.

A part of me, one I hated, wanted to believe it was real.

I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath, rubbing my thumb softly over the bandages. But then my jaw tightened.

Get a grip.

A few bandages, a bowl of soup, and a soft tone didn’t undo what he’d already done. It didn’t erase the hours I spent tied to a chair like some prisoner, dehydrated and shaking.

He was still the man who hurt me.

Who let me suffer?

No, I reminded myself, he wasn’t being kind. He was up to something.

This was strategy, not sincerity.

Manipulation, not mercy.

And whatever it was… whatever game he was playing—I’d find out tomorrow.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, letting the breath wash over the knots in my shoulders.

For the first time in hours—maybe longer—my body began to unclench. I was starving, aching, and exhausted, the weight of everything finally pressing down on me now that I was alone.

My gaze drifted to the tray, and as if on cue, my stomach growled again—loud and needy. I hesitated for a second, then reached over and pulled it into my lap.

The simple motion sent a dull ache through my arms and shoulders, and I couldn’t help the small groan that escaped my lips.

But once the food was in front of me, instinct took over.

I dug in—soft scrambled eggs, steaming rice, a fragrant curry that clung to the air, and a handful of sliced fruit glistening under the light. I ate slowly at first, savouring each bite, but hunger quickly took the reins.

Bite after bite, I filled the gnawing emptiness inside me until my stomach ached from fullness.

When I finally set the fork down, I let out a quiet sigh and leaned back against the pillows, feeling warm… and oddly content.