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  “Did you kill her because she chose Mr. Drew over you?”
    The question came with a loud snap of a camera, followed by a chaotic chorus of shutters and shouting. The reporters descended on us like vultures.
    “We just need one statement, sir!”
    A ginger-haired female reporter shoved a tiny mic into the partially open car window, her eyes wild with the thrill of a potential headline.
    When Candice had sent that message, I hadn’t even gotten the chance to show Alex. We were already pulling into the estate’s driveway—and then the swarm hit. Flashbulbs, voices and Chaos.
    These people should really give it a rest.
    “You okay back there?” Alex glanced at me from the front seat, his voice way too calm.
    “Yes, I guess,” I said.
    No, I wasn’t.
    The lights were blinding, relentless. Reporters kept closing in, waving mics like weapons. The guards were barely managing to hold them off.
    “Is it true you killed her to punish Drew for taking your inheritance?”
    “Were you in a passionate relationship with Mrs. Douglas before she chose Mr. Drew?”
    “Is it true, sir? Just one comment!”
    A loud thud slammed against the back of the car. I flinched, whipping my head around. Someone had struck it.
    Among the crowd, I caught a figure in black hoodie, baggy jeans. They looked young, like a teenager. But something about the stance, the way they just stood there, still… watching… didn’t feel right.
    I squinted, trying to get a better look. But just then, another burst of angry camera flashes exploded in my face.
    “Mrs. Blackwood!” someone yelled, a woman.
    “Could you give us a statement?”
    “Um, no statements, please,” I muttered, turning my face away from the barrage of lights. I raised my hands to shield my eyes, catching a glimpse of Alex in the rearview mirror. His jaw was tight, knuckles pale on the steering wheel.
    “This is trespassing!”
    The shout came from somewhere in the chaos, deep and booming.
    “If y’all don’t get the hell outta here, I’m calling the cops!”
    That was Alex’s bodyguard. I recognized his voice instantly.
    But the crowd was already possessed.
    “He’s going to jail!” someone shrieked, venom in their voice. “And this time, his money won’t save him!”
    Then another voice, sharp and ruthless, tore through the noise:
    “Yeah? Then explain why his DNA was found on her dead body!”
    My heart stopped.
    That… that made me freeze.
    I whipped my head around, trying to find the face behind that accusation, but all I could see were flashes, shadows, moving mouths.
    That was it.
    Alex rolled the windows up, the motor humming as the glass slowly separated us from the screaming chaos outside.
    But the banging didn’t stop.
    If anything, it got louder.
    “No way,” I muttered, my heart still racing as I tried to process the chaos. “We just came from a quiet evening to… this?.”
    I turned to Alex, my voice trembling with disbelief. “Alex, what are they talking about?”
    He glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable. “It’s all a misunderstanding.”
    “A misunderstanding?” I repeated, my voice rising. “What is going on?”
    Before he could answer, the wail of a police siren sliced through the air, sharp and urgent. They had called the police. The sirens grew louder as we drove into the estate’s driveway, forcing the swarm of reporters to scatter like ants. Their lights blinked erratically as they sprinted away, but one figure stood motionless. The person in the hoodie.
    It wasn’t running. It wasn’t panicking. Whoever this person was, they walked calmly, unbothered by the commotion surrounding them.
    “Are you okay, Mr. Blackwood?” A sharp bang on the car window snapped my attention back to the present. A police officer stood there, his face stern.
    “Yes, yes, we’re fine,” Alex responded coolly, rolling the window down just enough to let the fresh night air inside. His voice was controlled, but I could hear the edge in it. “Accompany us into the estate.”
    Alex’s frustration was palpable now. He turned to the guards, his voice rising in anger. “What the hell happened? I’m paying you to keep this place secure!”
    “We tried, sir,” one of the guards stammered, his head bowed. “They came in swarms. We couldn’t do anything. They were threatening to break down the gates.”
    “Well, couldn’t you at least have called the police?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
    Alex shot me a look.
    “Mrs. Blackwood?”
    “Yes?” My voice faltered as my eyes locked with the investigator’s. The same man who had come when Nadia died. The same one who’d asked me those cold, clinical questions.
    “Are you alright?” he asked, his gaze sharp.
    “Yes,” I answered, though I wasn’t sure I was anymore.
    “Okay, well, I’ll be going up to talk to your husband privately,” he said, jerking his head toward Alex. He gestured for me to go. “You should go to your room.”
    Alex’s eyes met mine, his expression unreadable. “Go to your room,” he repeated, his voice softer now, but still firm.
    I nodded, though every fiber of my being screamed to stay, to find out what was really happening. As Alex and the investigator moved toward the study, I stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me.
    After an exhausting internal debate about whether or not I should eavesdrop, I gave in to my worst instincts.
    I ran up to my room, tore out of my gown, and changed into a silk black top and matching pants. I packed my hair into a messy bun and sat by the vanity, trying to regulate my breathing. My phone kept buzzing with multiple texts from Candice and four missed calls from Joseph. They’d have to wait.
    My intrusive thoughts weren’t done with me.
    Barefoot, I tiptoed out and crept to the front of Alex’s study. He was in there with the investigator. Was it that serious?
    I pressed my ear against the door, straining to catch a word.
    “…autopsy…”
    “…why don’t you tell her…”
    My heart jumped.
    I pressed my ear closer, leaning in further, and—
    The door swung open.
    I nearly stumbled into his chest.
    Alex stood in the doorway, his hand on the knob, his brows furrowed. His face was slightly flushed, his hair tousled like he’d raked his fingers through it a hundred times. He had changed out of his formal wear into a plain black cotton T-shirt, one that hugged his arms and somehow made him look even more intimidating.
    His icy eyes dropped to me. “What are you doing here?”
    I swallowed, caught off guard. “I… I just—”
    He raised a brow, his gaze sharp, almost amused.
    I straightened and let out a shaky sigh. “Look, I just wanted to know what’s going on.”
    “And you will,” he said smoothly. “But not now.”
    With that, he turned away. “I’ll be in your room later tonight.”
    He shut the door before I could even respond. The sound of it slamming echoed in my chest, sharp and heavy.
    True to his word, he came to my room that night.
    I had pretended to be asleep, facing the opposite side with my covers pulled to my chest. I felt the mattress dip behind me as he sat on the edge of the bed. His scent clean, masculine, and unshakably familiar hit me before his voice did.
    “I know you’re awake,” he murmured.
    For some odd reason, I refused to respond.
    I just lay there, focusing on steadying my breathing, pretending harder like if I played dead long enough, he’d walk away.
    He chuckled. Low. Deep. Like he knew the game I was playing and had no plans of playing fair.
    I heard footsteps.
    No… felt them. The sound of them brushing against the floor, nearing.
    Wait. Was he coming to my side of the bed?
    Like I feared… or maybe hoped…he was?
    The mattress dipped near my legs as he sat, close.
    My heart pounded as my breathing picked up again, my chest rising and falling faster than I could control. If he looked down at me now, he’d see it the blush blooming over my cheeks, the way my lashes trembled against my skin.
    And then i felt the air shift.
    Fingers brushing through my hair, slow, deliberate, threading gently into my scalp.
    I clenched my eyes tighter.
    But it was no use.
    His fingers dug in slightly, massaging the base of my skull firm, warm, addictive. I was already hot from the tension. But now, I was burning.
    I couldn’t stop it…
    the sound that slipped past my lips, soft and sinful.
    A moan.
    My eyes flew open in horror… and met his.
    Blue, Glazed and Dangerous.
    He was hunched over me now, his breath ghosting over my lips. The muscles in his jaw twitched. His gaze flicked to my mouth.
    And then, without a word, his mouth descended on mine.
    I returned the searing kiss, my body responding before my mind caught up. My arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer.
    He grunted low in his throat, rough and primal, as his hands roamed down and cupped my breasts. His fingers twisted over my nipples, and I yelped a sharp sound that melted into something else as a rush of heat shot through me.
    Pleasure burned its way from my chest down to the pit of my belly…. And lower.
    He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged, his head lowering to rest in the hollow between my breasts. I felt it the tremor that moved through him. A shiver.
    “Let me stay with you, Isla,” he mumbled against my skin. His voice was hoarse, almost boyish in its vulnerability.
    I blinked, dazed and slightly confused.
    “Isla?” he whispered again, lifting his head. His eyes, stormy and flushed with heat, met mine.
    “No, Alex,” I breathed, my voice trembling as clarity fought through the haze. I began to wriggle out of his hold. “This… this isn’t right.”
    He stilled, his brow arched.
    “What are you doing now? Why are you trying to fight me?”
    “Because…” I stammered, pushing gently at his chest. “This isn’t… right.”
    He let out a breath, then laughed but there was no humor in it.
    “You weren’t exactly fighting me off a minute ago.”
    “I am now,” I said, firming my voice even as my heart pounded in confusion.
    His expression shifted. Something dark flashed across his face. He looked almost… pissed.
    And then his hand flew to the collar of my silk sleep shirt. With one sharp tug, the fabric tore apart, the sound ripping through the silence.
    I gasped. “Alex!”
    But he didn’t answer. He pressed me down, his mouth returning to my chest, rougher this time, more insistent.
    “Stop—stop it,” I warned, my voice rising. “I swear I’ll scream—”
    He paused only for a second, as if calculating, then his hands trailed down to my waist. The sheets tangled beneath me as he tugged, and I realized with horror—
    I was completely bare beneath him.
    “You won’t scream,” he whispered, more like a promise than a threat. Then he kissed the curve of my stomach, slow and dangerous.
    And when his mouth kept trailing lower, my eyes widened.
    No.
    No… he couldn’t possibly—
    My breath hitched. My entire body froze as I watched him make a deliberate path between my thighs.
    “Alex! Wait!”
    But he didn’t. I watched in disbelief as he pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh—slow, deliberate, reverent, almost like he was claiming it.
    Panicked, I tried to sit up, but his palm flattened against the center of my belly, holding me down effortlessly.
    “You can’t possibly—”
    I choked on the rest of the sentence as his mouth lowered and closed around the most intimate part of me. My breath hitched.
    “Oh my—”
    My head fell back against the pillow as a gasp tore from my lips. He moved with a skill and precision I didn’t know was possible, and all I could do was stare down at him, wide-eyed and horrified—because of how dangerously good it felt.
    And then I saw his eyes.
    He kept them on me the entire time, locked with mine as his mouth devoured me slowly, mercilessly. My thighs trembled, but he only adjusted, placing them over his shoulders, anchoring me there like I was never meant to escape.
    I clutched the sheets beside me, heart pounding, vision blurring. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of it was.
    He licked my folds with slow, deliberate hunger, and I shivered as sweat trickled down my chest. My body betrayed me, melting under his touch as a moan slipped from my lips shameless and uncontrolled.
    When his mouth closed over my bud, sucking with brutal precision, my vision blurred as i threw my head back.
    “God, you feel so amazing,” he murmured against me, his voice muffled and thick with desire. I looked down at him, and the sight his head between my thighs, his dark hair tangled in my fingers was too erotic to comprehend.
    I screamed as his tongue lashed me mercilessly, my hand clutching at his strands like a lifeline. My climax tore through me with such force, I forgot who I was. The sound that left my mouth didn’t feel like mine.
    He didn’t stop.
    He lapped at me greedily, drinking in every drop of the release he had coaxed from me. I lay there, boneless, panting and stunned. My mind slowly came back to me, and with it, the dizzying mix of lust and shame.
    Then, without warning, he stood up tearing off his shirt with one swift motion. I panicked, naked and flushed as i scrambling for the duvet to cover myself to salvage even a shred of the sanity I’d just lost.
    He paused watching me with that unreadable fire in his eyes.
    “it’s too late for that now, wouldn’t you agree?” he said, voice low, tinged with annoyance.
    “Please… just get out,” I whispered, my voice trembling, not from fear but from the terror of falling any deeper into something I didn’t understand.
    He narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenched tight.
    “Oh, now you want to push me away? After the way you responded to me?” His voice was calm but it held a bite, a sting that made my heart ache.
    “Alex… please,” I murmured, barely audible, hoping he’d have the decency to walk away before I shattered completely.
    He stared at me for a beat too long. Anger, frustration, and something raw burned in his gaze.
    And then he turned sharply, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him with such force I flinched beneath the covers.