Chapter 47 The Confrontation

Chapter 47 The Confrontation
Alexander

I couldn't find sleep. 

I stayed up, sitting right there till the first rays of dawn found their way into my study. I kept staring at my now turned-off laptop screen as if it could miraculously restore what was left of my sanity. 

That freaking didn't work, though, because every single time I blinked, her face reappeared, a younger version of her…about fifteen, fragile, and hugging the man I helped destroy. Richard Knight. 

It was hard to take in, but she was his fucking daughter who was out for my head. 

My hands had trembled earlier, but now they just felt heavy and cold. This whole revelation shit just kept circling like a vulture in my head, refusing to die down. She has been under my roof, in my bed… well, it technically is my bed… but still too close. Fucking pregnant with my child. 

And all along, she'd been his. My enemy's daughter.

By the time morning came fully, I had stopped thinking entirely. Like, literally stopped thinking. 

Nowhere in hell was that taking me. There was no more logic and no reasoning. The only thing I felt was a gnawing, poisonous disbelief ....and of course, anger. Anger that tasted so much like metal in my damned mouth. 

I left the study with my beard unshaven and still putting on my last night’s clothes. The rain had stopped by now, and I knew that snow would soon appear due to the cold. But that didn't stop me from moving around barefoot. 

The house carried that damp stillness that comes after a storm. Every sound echoed repeatedly, my footsteps, the click of my watch and even the faint humming which I could hear from the kitchen area. 

I strained my ears to confirm, and it was her voice, humming. 
My nostrils flared. 

"Good morning, Alexander," Elena said in an innocent voice. Pretending like I hadn't found out her true identity. 

She was standing there in my kitchen, barefoot and with her long hair tied loosely, one hand was resting lazily on her belly as she poured coffee. 

I stood there watching her. She seemed to still keep up the pretence. 

"I made you coffee." She said in an uncharacteristically sweet tone, I could swear she was trying so hard to remain under cover. 

Elena Carter, my foot.

Her tone was soft and even casual. Like the world hadn't just shifted on its axis.

I stopped at the doorway and leaned slightly against the frame as I allowed my eyes to drag over her body. The robe she wore was thin, pale silk, and the belt was cinched loosely around her waist. She looked calm. Too calm.

And beautiful.

That irritated me even more.

Fuck. 
How could she even be beautiful with such an intention?!  
Wasn't that diabolical?

Was she not supposed to get her revenge some other way than come close to me to the point of… carrying my child?

Or was this her plan all along???

She turned when she sensed me watching and offered me a gentle half smile that I swear almost disarmed me. 

"You're up late," she said, moving to grab another cup. "Were you working through the night?" she asked in a voice that I sensed was filled with mock concern. 

As if she actually cared. 
My nostrils flared, and I tightened my fists. 

I didn't answer her. I couldn’t. My throat felt too tight to speak.

"Alexander?" she prompted and glanced back at me with a brow slightly furrowed.

"Don't you ever get tired of pretending?" The words left my lips before I could stop them.

Her hand froze mid-reach, and she turned to look at me with a confused look on her face. 

Yep, definitely pretending. 

"Pretending?" she repeated, and I stepped in slowly with my eyes fixed squarely on her face. 
I searched her eyes for the slightest flicker of emotion. 

Guilt. Recognition. Maliciousness. Anything. 

"Yes. Pretending like everything's fine. Like you don't have other plans." I quipped. 

She blinked, clearly confused, or rather, very, very good at pretending to be. She obviously deserves an Oscar for this performance because I almost believed it. 

"I don't understand what you mean," she muttered, and I let out a dry laugh. 

"Oh, I think you do," I said in a low but sharp voice as I circled her. "You've always been good at keeping secrets, haven't you? Quiet little Elena… polite, innocent, never asking too many questions." I went on to say. And frankly, it looked like I was rambling, but I knew what I was talking about. She knew too. 

Her brows knit tighter. 

"You're scaring me. What are you talking about?" she questioned, and I laughed under my breath again. 

"Don't play dumb, Elena," I warned. "You've been playing a very dangerous game, and you've played it so well. I'll give you that."

She turned to face me fully now with confusion etched all over her face. 

"If this is about the surrogacy or the contract," she was saying, but I cut her short immediately.

"This isn't about the damn contract!" I snapped.
The cup slipped from her hand and crashed against the counter, shattering. Coffee splattered across the marble floor.

She flinched at the sound, and I instantly hated myself for losing control, but I couldn't stop. Not now.

"I’ve spent the whole night wondering who you really are," I said, stepping closer. "Because you sure as hell aren't who you claimed to be." I went on to say. 

Her lips parted, and her eyes were wide, but she didn't speak.

I studied her every twitch and waited for the mask to crack. But she stood there, trembling slightly, still trying to understand. They definitely needed to get her that Oscar award. 

"Do you even know," I continued, "what kind of people you're getting involved with?" I asked her.

"I'm not…."

"Because you don't just walk into someone's life like that, Elena. You don't come in with your pretty little lies and your sad stories and…."

"Stop." Her voice was shaking as she cut me off. "You're being cruel, Alexander. I don't know what this is about, but whatever it is, I haven't lied to you," she said, and I saw her eyes glistening. 

And that only made me angrier. Because tears—God, she knew how to use them.

I exhaled sharply and ran a hand over my face. 

"You really are good at playing games, I give you that," I quipped. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked in a shaky voice. 

I almost told her. Almost said, ‘Your father, Richard Knight.’ But something held me back. 

It was probably instinct, or pride, or maybe fear that I might see recognition in her eyes and confirm what I already knew.

Instead, I smiled bitterly. 

"Forget it," I said in a clipped tone. 

She blinked at me again, and I saw her lips tremble. 

"Forget it? You just accused me of something, and now you tell me to forget it?" she questioned..

"Aren’t you good at that?" I asked harshly. 

"Alexander, I’ve done everything you asked!" she snapped suddenly, surprising even herself. "I’ve followed every rule, signed every damn paper, endured your moods, your arrogance—everything! So, what did I do this time?" She asked in a voice that cracked. 

I said nothing, just stared at her, like really stared. And that's when I realized something cruel and stupid. I wanted her to break. Because the sight of seeing her break somehow made my confusion easier to bear.

She swallowed hard and blinked. 

"You know what? I’m tired," she decided. 

Fuck.

"Elena—"

"No." She stepped back, shaking her head. "I’m done. With you, with this arrangement, with whatever this is. I don’t care how much money you have, or how badly you need this baby, but I am not staying with you anymore," she said. 

I clenched my fists.

"You’re not going anywhere." I declared, and her eyes snapped to me. It broke something in me to see tears in her eyes, but it could be a pretence. 

"Watch me," she declared.

"Elena…." I reached for her hand. 

"Don’t you dare touch me." She backed away. "And if any of your guards so much as try to restrain me, I will scream this entire house down," she threatened. 

I stared at her speechlessly.

"And if they still touch me," she continued, "I will go to the police and tell them Alexander Harrington assaulted and kidnapped me. Do you hear me, Alexander?" she declared. 

For a moment, I couldn't breathe.

The house fell deathly silent except for the steady patter of her breathing.
Her tears finally spilt and I watched them sliding down her cheeks uncontrollably. 

"You think you can control everything, but you can't. Not me," she sobbed. 

And with that, she turned, brushing past me with trembling hands. I could smell the faint trail of her perfume as she stormed towards the door.

The guards standing in the hallway looked to me for instruction, but I said nothing.

She glanced back once with fierce eyes despite the tears. 

"Try to stop me," she warned.

No one moved.

Then she disappeared down the hall, and all I could hear was the sound of her footsteps leaving until there was nothing left but silence.