Chapter 42
Chapter 42
The morning light filtered softly through the heavy velvet curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the bedroom. Dust motes danced lazily in the slanted beams, and the distant sound of rain still pattering against the windows created a cocoon of quiet intimacy around them. It felt peaceful.
Alexandria woke slowly, her body was heavy and deliciously languid, she was wrapped in sheets that carried Jonathan’s unmistakable scent. For a long moment, she simply lay there, blinking against the haze of sleep, letting her mind drift as she tried to piece together where she was and how she had gotten here.
The sharp, stabbing headache from yesterday had dulled significantly, she almost couldn't feel it. She was in Jonathan’s bed........again. The realization should have sent her spiraling into shame, panic, and self-recrimination like it always did. Instead, she simply lay there staring at the dust motes, unable to think over feel much.
She turned her head slightly on the pillow and found him lying beside her, still asleep. His face was relaxed in a way she had rarely seen; the sharp lines of his jaw were softened, his dark lashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks, and one arm draped possessively over her waist even in sleep.
He looked younger like this, less like the intimidating, controlling man who dominated every room he entered, and more… human. Her heart did something complicated in her chest, it was a tight, fluttering squeeze that scared her as much as it comforted her.
She studied him in the golden morning light, tracing with her eyes everything about him; the way his usually perfectly styled hair now fell slightly messy across his forehead. This was the same man who had altered everything she once knew, he'd change everything so much that she didn't even know what she was doing anymore.
And yet here he was, holding her like she was something he had no intention of breaking. The contradiction made her head spin and her throat tighten with emotion.
She tried to slip out of bed quietly, needing a moment to collect herself, but the instant she shifted, his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her back against the solid wall of his chest. A low, sleepy rumble vibrated from deep in his throat.
“Stay,” he murmured, his voice was still low rough and gravelly with sleep, his lips brushed the shell of her ear.
Alexandria’s breath caught. She didn’t fight him, she didn't try to pull away, she let herself be pulled back till her back molded perfectly against the heat of his bare chest. His large hand splayed possessively across her stomach, his fingers gently stroke the smooth fabric of her blouse.
The simple, absentminded touch sent a slow shiver racing down her spine and awakened fresh awareness low in her belly. She couldn't believe how uncontrollable her body had become.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck in a lingering kiss. He was being so gentle.
“Better,” she whispered, voice still husky from sleep. “The headache is… a lot better now. The ringing has stopped.”
“Good,” he said simply, but the relief was evident in his tone. He pressed another slow, tender kiss just below her ear, then another along the curve of her neck. The tenderness made her eyes sting with sudden emotion.
Somehow, she had braced herself for coldness this morning, for his usual dismissive attitude. Instead, he was holding her like he had no intention of letting her go anytime soon.They remained like that for a long while, wrapped in comfortable silence.
Jonathan’s hand continued its lazy exploration; stroking her stomach in slow circles, tracing the curve of her hip, then slipping beneath the hem of the blouse to rest against her bare skin. It wasn’t overtly sexual, yet every touch sent little sparks of heat and awareness flickering through her body.
Her nipples tightened into sensitive peaks against the fabric. A low, warm pulse began to build between her thighs. Eventually, he shifted behind her and her body ached as he backed away.
“I’ll get you some water and painkillers,” he said, pressing one final kiss to her shoulder before rolling out of bed.
Alexandria watched him cross the room, unable to look away. He wore only the sweatpants from yesterday, it hung low on his hips, revealing the deep V of muscle at his pelvis and the powerful lines of his back. Every movement made smooth muscle shift and flex under his skin.
Even now; sore, exhausted, and emotionally raw, her body reacted instinctively to the sight of him. Heat pooled low in her belly and she forced herself to look away. He returned a few minutes later with a glass of cool water and two white pills. He helped her sit up, one strong arm supporting her back, and held the glass to her lips as she swallowed the medication.
The simple, careful act of caretaking made her chest ache with a tenderness she didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Breakfast?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
She nodded slowly.
It was a Tuesday morning and she was supposed to be rushing back to the penthouse to prepare for classes and all, yet here she was, intending to have breakfast with him. But he was also supposed to be preparing for work, and he seemed entirely unbothered. She let go of the worries, still refusing to think or feel.
Soon enough, he ordered a simple spread; fresh berries, creamy yogurt, buttered toast, scrambled eggs, and crisp bacon, they ate in bed, propped up against the large headboard with trays between them. The domesticity of the scene felt almost surreal.
Jonathan was quiet but deeply attentive, refilling her water glass, cutting a piece of toast for her when her hands trembled slightly, and making sure she ate more than just a few bites. Everything about the scene was overwhelming, not in a way that made her want to scream and cry though, just in a way that made her want to express a thing or two.
“I… I’ve been trying so hard to be strong,” she admitted quietly, staring down at her half-empty plate. “Like my father. He was always in control, powerful, perfect. And I feel like I’m failing at every single thing lately.”
Jonathan was quiet for a long moment, the silence was thick but not uncomfortable. Then he set his own plate aside and turned fully toward her.
"I didn't know your father personally, but at some point, everyone in New York knew about him. And at the time I did, he wasn't the strong and flawless billionaire the internet portrays. I remember briefly seeing headlines and front pages then; he was unwell but marrying the woman he loved. He was entirely human." He said, voice low and steady.
She listened attentively like her life depended on it. She hung onto every word he said. This was the first she was hearing about her father from someone who wasn't family, this was the first time she was getting information from someone that wasn't her mom or the Internet.
"I was very young then, not like I understood much. But what I understood then was that the world was marveling at this man not because of all this achievements, but because he was choosing to do something he normally wouldn't do. He was finally revealing a part of himself that had never been seen by anyone before." He continued.
And she tried to swallow, she tried to force down the lump in her throat but it was so hard. Her eyes burned with tears.
“You’re allowed to be messy, Alexandria. You don't have to be that strong and flawless version of him you see on the Internet, you just have to be yourself.”
The words landed deep inside her, cracking something open. She looked up at him, and the tears that had been stinging her eyes finally spilled. She was didn't know how to respond, she didn't know how to tell him that she didn't even know how to be herself.
All her life, she'd wanted to be someone else, and that was all she knew how to be. But explaining it to him was impossible, so she simply looked away to hide the tears.
He reached out and nudged her head up gently to face him, he leaned in and kissed her slowly, it was achingly tender and she sobbed against his lips but kisses him back, she needed this so badly. It quickly grew heated. His hand slid beneath her top, cupping her breast, his thumb brushed over her hardened nipple in slow, teasing strokes till she moaned softly into his mouth.
"That's better." He said against her neck. "Don't cry."
He didn’t push for more, he simply held her close, kissing her until she was breathless, trembling, and dizzy with need. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, breathing her in.
“Stay today,” he murmured, the words brushing against her lips. “Rest. Pull yourself together.”
Alexandria hesitated for only a heartbeat before nodding.
He leaned in and planted a tender kiss on her head.
"You'll be fine."