Chapter 215: Chapter Two Hundred and Fifteen

Alexander

I couldn’t sleep.

The walls of Orsania were quiet, the kind of suffocating silence that makes your thoughts echo. My father—no, he—was still somewhere in his estate. My mother was likely awake, running on nerves and fire. Even with Karl posted near my door like he had all my life and the guards half asleep, I didn’t care. I slipped out, barefoot on cold floors, heart pounding like I was breaking the law instead of wandering my own house.

I knew exactly where Leo’s room was. I always did.

The door creaked open just enough for me to slip inside. Leo sat up in bed at once, his hair a glorious mess, shirtless under the covers, eyes wild with alarm—until he saw me. Then he smiled.

“You’re mad,” he mumbled, voice heavy with sleep and that thick, husky accent I craved in ways I couldn’t even explain. “Your entire family is literally here.”

I closed the door behind me, locking it without a second thought. “To hell with appearances,” I whispered as I padded toward him. “To hell with my father.”

Leo blinked at me, but he didn’t look surprised. Just quietly amused. And maybe a little more in love.

“You couldn’t sleep?” He smiled.

I shook my head. “Not after everything… everything that’s happened.”

He pulled back the covers without a word and held out a hand. I climbed in and melted into him like I always did—like gravity had shifted and this was the only place I belonged.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. We just breathed. Then, quietly, he asked, “How are you holding up?”

I exhaled into his chest. I don’t even know. Everything is still spinning. My life… it changed in a sentence. Karl. My mother. Everything I thought I knew.” I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to say the words out loud. “That Karl is… that he’s my real father.”

Leo didn’t speak. He just held me, rubbing slow circles into my back, letting the silence wrap around us like a secret.

“And my mother,” I added quietly. “She knew. All this time.”

“I’m sorry, amore,” he whispered. “You deserved better. You still do.”

“I don’t want to go back,” I admitted. “Not without you.”

He kissed my forehead and pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. “I know. But we have to do this right. Just a little longer.”

I sighed. “I hate having to do everything right.”

He laughed softly. “I know you do.”

I let my fingers trail along the seam of his shirt, grounding myself in the warmth of his body. “He needs time to save face,” I said bitterly. “To tell the Council in his own way. To find some deluded excuse for how he lost control of the one thing he was supposed to own.”

Leo kissed my hair. “Exactly. Let him have his story. Let him sleep at night thinking he still holds the reins. We’ll give him just enough space to hang himself with them.”

I smiled faintly. “You sound dangerous when you talk like that.”

“I am dangerous. Especially when it comes to you.”

I melted into him again. “And what about the world? They still think I’m engaged to Sofía.”

“You’ll handle it,” he said. “With class. With honesty. Let them see it’s your choice. Not hers. Not his. Yours.”

I nodded slowly. “We’re doing a press statement. Sofía and I. We’re ending the engagement together. Publicly. We’ll say we’re friends. That we respect each other, but… we don’t believe in arranged marriages. That we deserve the right to follow our hearts.”

Leo gave a low hum of approval. “That’ll set the media on fire. You know that, right?”

“I hope so, but if not, I’m counting on you to do that.”

He gave me a smug look. “I plan to stir the press like a pot of drama soup. And I know exactly who to call for help.”

I laughed, and then sighed. “I’ll miss you in the meantime, babe.” I leaned in, curling against his chest. “I’ll miss your arms.” My fingers traced over his bicep. “Your kisses…” I brushed my lips to his. “Your everything.”

Leo cupped my jaw and pulled me closer, his voice low and reverent. “I will too, my love… but we still have tonight.”

And then he kissed me—deep, slow, desperate. Like we were on borrowed time.

Because we were.

His lips moved over mine like a promise.

Not a demand. Not a question. Just a truth.

I moaned softly into his mouth, my hand slipping under his shirt, fingers tracing the warm curve of his waist. He shivered, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us—only heat, only skin, only the frantic rhythm of two hearts trying to memorize the moment.

He rolled us gently, his body blanketing mine, mouth never leaving mine as his hands framed my face like I was something sacred.

I let them wander—his hands, my thoughts. My touch mapped the planes of his back, the dip of his spine, the soft skin above his waistband. His scent surrounded me. So did his love.

I was obsessed with all of him. I craved his body in a way that hurt, his touch and those lips that mine claimed like a dangerous drug.

Fuck, I’m gonna miss it all so much…

He kissed down my neck, slow, reverent, until I was gasping his name into the quiet, and when I whispered his in return, when I begged him not to stop, not tonight… he didn’t.

We made love like it was the last night of the world.

And in many ways, it was. The last night of the only world I've ever known.

By morning, we both knew what had to happen. We couldn’t arrive together. Not with the eyes of the world waiting to dissect every breath we took. So I slipped out while the sky was still pink, barefoot and aching.

Karl was outside the door. Not mine. Leo’s.

He didn’t say a word, just raised a brow like, really? then shook his head slowly as I crept past.

I muttered, “Morning,” like a guilty teenager.

He huffed. “Morning, Your Highness.”

Back in my room, I dressed in silence. Clothes too polished, heart too full.

Leo and I met again over breakfast in the small patio behind the east wing—mercifully alone. He poured my coffee without a word, fingers brushing mine just briefly.

When it was time, we slipped into the library for one last moment.

“I’ll see you soon,” I whispered, holding his gaze like it might disappear.

He cupped my face. “You’ll see me always.”

I kissed him one last time—soft, slow, steady. Like breathing.

As he disappeared in one of our official cars, I turned and walked away. Into the fire. With him in my heart.