Chapter 79 Promises
The estate doors were heavy when I pushed them open, the familiar scent of polished wood greeting me like an embrace. My boots clicked softly on the marble foyer floor, still cold from the afternoon wind. I was tired, deeper than bone-tired, lectures had dragged, the café conversation with Sophia and Clara still echoed in my ears, their joy and teasing wrapping around me. I stepped into the living room and froze mid-stride.
Alexander stood near the fireplace, talking in low voices to a young man in a sharp suit and a woman with a tablet tucked under her arm. They were already turning toward the exit, coats draped over their arms. The man noticed me first, offering a polite nod and a quiet “Hello.” The woman smiled briefly, professional and warm.
I nodded back, stepping aside to let them pass. Their footsteps faded down the hall; the front door clicked shut behind them.
Alexander turned fully toward me. The moment our eyes met, something in his face softened. He crossed the room in three long strides and pulled me into his arms without a word.
I melted against him, cheek pressed to his chest, breathing in the steady thump of his heart. His arms tightened, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of my head, the other resting low on my back, protective, possessive, gentle all at once.
“How are you?” he murmured into my hair. His palm moved slowly down to cover my stomach. “How’s our baby?”
The words landed soft and warm, like sunlight breaking through clouds. My breath hitched. I still wasn’t used to it, him asking about the baby like it was the most natural thing in the world, like we were already a family. Heat climbed my cheeks; I didn’t know whether to laugh or hide my face.
“I’m okay,” I whispered. “We’re okay.”
He pulled back just enough to look at me, thumb brushing my cheek. “Come sit with me. We need to talk.”
I let him lead me to the wide leather sofa. He sat first, then tugged me down beside him, close enough that our thighs pressed together. I glanced at him, he really looked better than a few days ago. The bandages were gone. The bruises had faded to faint shadows. He looked… strong again. Whole.
“You’re fully recovered,” I said, almost surprised.
He nodded. “Yes, healed, but I’m taking a few days off work. I want to spend them with you.” He gestured vaguely toward the door. “That’s why my assistants came here. Paperwork, updates, the usual.”
I glanced back at the empty doorway. “The two who just left?”
“Yes.”
He reached over and pressed the small intercom button on the side table. “Clara? Can you bring something for Maddie to eat, please?”
“Of course, sir,” came the reply, warm and immediate.
Alexander turned back to me, eyes dropping to my feet. “Take off your shoes.”
I blinked. “What?”
He didn’t repeat himself. Instead he slid to the floor in front of me, kneeling between my legs, and reached for my boots. I stared, stunned, as his large hands worked the laces loose with careful precision. He slipped the first boot off, then the second, setting them neatly aside. Then he lifted both my feet and placed them across his lap.
His thumbs pressed into the arch of my left foot, slow and firm. A soft groan escaped me before I could stop it. The pressure was perfect, exactly what my aching feet needed after hours of standing and walking.
Alexander’s lips curved. “Get used to this.”
I smiled shyly, cheeks warming again. “You’re spoiling me.”
“Good.” He kept working, hands steady and warm. “I’m thinking we should go to the hospital tomorrow. Proper check-up. Make sure everything’s fine.”
“I already went,” I said quietly. “The results are what Ben saw that day. But we can go next month.”
He nodded once, expression darkening for a heartbeat at Ben’s name. “Speaking of Ben… when do you plan on ending it with him?”
I looked down at his hands, still moving over my feet. “I will. When he comes back. I’ll tell him.”
Alexander’s thumbs paused. “You can’t be carrying my child, my heir, and still be married to that senseless boy.”
I laughed softly, surprised by how light it felt. “I know. I’ll end it.”
He resumed the massage, gentler now. Silence settled again, comfortable but charged. My mind drifted to the one question I’d been avoiding since the rite. Tamara. Her words still stung, her certainty, her claim. I needed to know where I stood. Was this just about the baby for him? Or did he want… us?
Alexander’s voice pulled me back. “Why do you have that look on your face?”
I blinked. “What look?”
“Like a battle is going on in your head.”
I sighed. Better to know than stay in the dark. “What about you and Tamara?”
His hands stilled on my toes for a single heartbeat. Then he looked up, eyes steady on mine.
“There’s nothing going on between us,” he said quietly. “ I'm sure she told you we've got something going on, and she warned you to stay away from me. I’m sure she must have said all that to you. I grew up with her. Our mothers wanted us together, pushed it hard. But I never wanted that. She’s always told women I’ve been with that we’re together. She did it in high school. Still does it as adults. She did it to you.”
I stayed quiet, listening.
“We slept together a few years ago,” he continued, voice even. “It didn’t mean anything to me. I made it clear we could never be together. Don’t worry about her. You’re the only woman in my life now. You’ll only ever be. You’re my mate. You’re meant for me.”
Heat flooded my face, cheeks, neck, and chest. I couldn’t look away from him. The way he said it, so certain, so final, made my heart stutter.
He leaned in slowly, giving me time to pull back, I didn’t his lips brushed mine, soft at first, then deeper, warmer. My hands found his shoulders, fingers curling into his shirt.
A throat cleared.
We broke apart. Clara stood in the doorway, tray in hands, eyebrows raised in polite amusement.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, lips twitching. “Food’s here.”
I couldn’t meet her gaze. My face was on fire.
Alexander cleared his throat, voice rough. “Right here is fine.”
Clara set the tray on the low table in front of us, soup, bread, fruits, tea, then retreated with a knowing smile.
I stared at the food, still flushed. Alexander reached over, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“So you won’t marry Tamara?” I asked quietly.
He laughed, low, genuine. “If I wanted to marry her, I would have done it long ago.”
I looked down at my hands. “But she’s beautiful. You two look good together. She understands your world better than I do.”
He caught my chin gently, tilting my face up so I had to meet his eyes.
“Stop,” he said softly. “It’s not about any of that. Divorce Ben. So we can get married for real.”
My heart stopped. Then slammed against my ribs. Married. For real.
He watched my face, thumb brushing my lower lip. “Can you eat, or do you want me to feed you?”
I blinked, heat rushing back. “Don’t worry. I can eat.”
He smiled, slow, satisfied, and leaned back, letting me reach for the spoon.