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  “Alexander freaking Blackwood.”
    Candice let out an ear-piercing squeal, spinning on her heel like she was about to launch herself at him. Whatever she was trying to do, gush over him, maybe… went horribly wrong because she promptly lost her balance and crashed onto the ground in a heap, her short skirt riding up to expose black lace underwear.
    Jake, still processing the shock of everything, blinked before bending down to scoop her up. She slumped against him, mumbling something incoherent, completely oblivious to the tension crackling in the air.
    Alexander, on the other hand, hadn’t moved. He just stood there, his silver eyes locked onto mine—unblinking, unreadable. He wore a loose brown shirt with long sleeves and matching pants, an almost careless contrast to his usual sharp attire.
    I was surprised he wasn’t with his bodyguard.
    And suddenly, I felt it.
    Embarrassment.
    No. Humiliation.
    I was standing in a grimy alleyway, surrounded by drunk idiots, outside a rundown bar in the Bronx. What kind of picture did that paint? The wife… well, contract wife, but still, the public wife of Alexander Blackwood caught in a place like this.
    Not a good look. Not at all.
    Jake steadied Candice as she swayed against him. “Whoa, easy,” he muttered.
    Then, turning to Alexander, he lifted his hands in surrender. “Damn, man, I didn’t know she was your girl,” he said, nodding toward me. “But, uh… she’s really out of it. You should take her home.”
    He gave me one last glance before disappearing into the bar with Candice in tow.
    “Hey!” I called after him. “She’s my friend!”
    But he didn’t turn back.
    And just like that, I was left alone with Alexander.
    He didn’t speak. Just turned on his heel and started walking. I hesitated for a second before reluctantly following him through the dimly lit alley, coughing as an old woman, dressed in nothing but white leggings with her sagging breasts exposed, blew smoke in my direction, cackling at something her companion said.
    By the time we reached his car, Orbot was already waiting, arms crossed beside the passenger door. His sharp gaze locked onto me the second I stepped into view.
    Oh. Orbot.
    As soon as he registered the state I was in, he rushed toward me, gripping my arms to steady me. I must have looked as bad as I felt—lightheaded, unsteady, reeking of alcohol and sweat.
    Meanwhile, Alexander didn’t so much as glance back.
    He just strode to the front seat, as if he was already done with me.
    I slumped into the passenger seat, mumbling weakly, “Good evening.”
    No one acknowledged me.
    Through the rearview mirror, I caught Alexander’s reflection—his sharp eyes pinned on me, expression so dark, so intense, I half-expected him to wrap his fingers around my throat. The only thing holding him back was the obvious fact that I wasn’t in my right mind. Or maybe because I was too far out of his reach. Either way.
    Orbot, unfazed, started the car.
    As we pulled out of the alleyway, soft music filled the silence. Starboy by The Weeknd, playing at a low volume.
    Alexander, ignoring me entirely, spoke distantly. “Oh, would you look at that.”
    Curious, I turned toward the window.
    My stomach turned.
    A couple… entangled, desperate… was shamelessly going at it against the back of a car. In the open. In full view of anyone walking by.
    It was night, but that hardly mattered. People still lurked on the dimly lit streets, either pretending not to notice or simply not caring.
    Typical. But still disgusting.
    From Alexander’s perspective, I could only imagine how much lower his opinion of this place… and of me, had just sunk.
    After all, this was no place for someone who bore the Blackwood name.
    No one spoke to me.
    The silence stretched so long that eventually, exhaustion pulled me under, and I drifted off to sleep.
    I woke with a jolt as the car came to a stop. Disoriented, I blinked rapidly, scanning my surroundings. We were back at the estate.
    Before I could fully gather myself, the car door swung open. Orbot stood there, steady as ever, reaching inside to help me out. He retrieved my purse, holding it out to me along with a steadying hand.
    Alexander, on the other hand, didn’t spare me a single glance. Without a word, he had already strode off—one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone—as if I didn’t exist at all.
    Inside, I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror—and damn, I looked a mess.
    My hair was still damp from when Jake…
    Oh, Jake.
    Oh my God. What must he have thought of me?
    Before I could dwell on it, Alexander turned, his gaze sweeping over me from head to toe, his expression unreadable. Without a single word, he headed for the staircase.
    I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself. I needed to pull myself together.
    First things first—I had to call Candice. At least check if she made it home safely. That’s what a good friend would do, right?
    As I walked into my room, I sent a quick text to Candice, asking if she made it home safely—and about Jake. I hadn’t even gotten the chance to learn more about him. Was he mad at me? I wasn’t sure.
    Shaking off the thought, I peeled off my dress, disgusted by the damp fabric clinging to my skin. Tossing it aside, I ran a hot bath.
    The estate felt quieter than usual. It had never been rowdy, but after everything with Nadia, after Alexander dismissed so many staff members to protect the Blackwood image, the estate felt… colder.
    I missed Lucy.
    Sinking into the warm water, I closed my eyes. The scent of lavender filled the air, soothing my senses. My muscles relaxed, and before I knew it, I drifted off.
    I wasn’t sure how long I had been asleep when I heard it—a soft cough.
    At first, it blended into my dream, distant, but then I jolted awake.
    My eyes snapped open.
    Alexander stood at the doorway
    He leaned against the frame, arms folded, expression unreadable.
    Panic shot through me as I darted my gaze to the water. The bubbles had all but disappeared, leaving the water clear enough to expose me—my nipples barely covered by the rippling surface.
    I let out a squeak and immediately sank deeper, crossing my arms over my chest. My heart pounded.
    “What the hell are you doing in here?!” I shrieked.
    His face remained impassive.
    He didn’t move.
    I glared. “I’m naked… you can go now.”
    Still, he didn’t budge. Instead, he slipped a hand into his pocket, stretching one leg forward like he had all the time in the world.
    “So,” he said coolly, eyes never leaving mine, “I hope you had fun today.”
    That unamused look on his face sent a chill down my spine.
    Rolling my eyes, I muttered, “Oh yes, I had so much fun.” My voice dripped with sarcasm. “It felt… freeing.” I met his gaze defiantly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had that kind of fun. With real people. With humans.”
    I let the words sink in.
    “People who actually have emotions,” I added, tilting my head. “Now, if you’d please leave, unless you plan to take advantage of me like you did the other day?”
    His lips twitched. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you?”
    He stepped closer, the air between us growing heavier.
    “Maybe next time,” he mused, “try doing your ‘freeing’ shit somewhere a little less… embarrassing.”
    His gaze flicked over me, slow and deliberate.
    “Did you see yourself today?” His lips curled, almost in amusement. “You looked no different from a—”
    Then, he leaned in, voice dropping.
    “A whore.”
    The word sliced through me like a blade.
    I didn’t think.
    My palm met his cheek in a sharp, resounding slap.
    He didn’t flinch.
    My hand shot back into the water as the realization hit me that I had just exposed myself. Heat flooded my cheeks, but I quickly sank deeper, crossing my arms over my chest in a feeble attempt at modesty.
    Alexander didn’t move back. Instead, he bent down even more, his piercing gaze trapping me in place.
    “This is the third time you’ve laid your hands on me,” he said in a quiet, dangerous tone. “Try that shit again, and you won’t like the consequences.”
    A shiver ran down my spine—not just from the threat but from the conviction in his voice.
    His eyes darkened further as he continued, “And who was that guy? That weird-ass guy. Is he the one you’re fucking?”
    My breath hitched.
    “I told you before,” he said smoothly, “you can’t have a lover. I wouldn’t have thought you’d go for someone like that though.” He shook his head, as if the thought itself repulsed him.
    Then, almost as casually, he straightened up. “Anyway…” His tone shifted to a bored nonchalance. “I would have loved to put you in your place.”
    He turned and headed for the door, but just as he reached for the handle, he paused. Without looking back, he added, “But honestly, I don’t think I have much to say to you.”
    He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping over me in the water—slow, deliberate, burning. I felt utterly exposed, even with the water reaching my neck.
    “Your mom will be brought to this estate,” he said. “And next week, you two will leave for Dubai.”
    I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out.
    His eyes locked onto mine one last time. “Do well not to embarrass me again.”
    Then, without another word, he slammed the door behind him.