Chapter 87
The silence between them wasn’t awkward, it was heavy, weighted by everything unsaid. Emily sat at the edge of the bed, her body wrapped in one of Alex’s oversized white shirts, the collar hanging loosely off one shoulder. Her skin still tingled from the way his hands had touched her, claimed her, as if he didn’t care about the world outside these walls.
Alex leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, his eyes devouring her in the dim light. But behind the heat in his gaze, there was something else. Guilt. Restraint. Maybe even fear.
"You're looking at me like you regret it already," Emily said softly, not looking up.
Alex’s brow furrowed. “That’s not true.”
She finally turned to face him. “Then what is it? Because you haven’t said a word since we... since you...”
“Made love to you,” he interrupted, voice low and hoarse. “Not just sex, Emily. Don’t reduce it to that.”
Her breath caught. It was the first time he’d called it that. Made love. The words echoed in her chest like something sacred.
“I didn’t mean to reduce it,” she whispered. “But you keep pulling away after every time we get close. It’s starting to feel like I’m just another mistake you want to forget.”
Alex walked over slowly and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. His touch was warm, grounding. “Emily, you’re not a mistake. You’re the one thing I wish I could protect from the mess I’ve become.”
She blinked rapidly, refusing to let tears spill. “Then don’t protect me. Stay. Be with me. Choose me.”
“I want to,” he admitted. “More than anything.”
“Then why won’t you?” she asked. “What are you so afraid of?”
He exhaled, long and painful. “Your father.”
Emily’s expression hardened. “My father doesn’t own me. I’m not some little girl anymore. You’re not his possession. You’re mine now.”
Her words lit something dangerous in him. He surged forward, cupping her jaw, kissing her like a man who’d been dying of thirst and finally found water. Their mouths clashed with desperation, tongues tangling in heated defiance.
She moaned into his mouth as he pushed her gently back onto the mattress, his weight settling over her, grounding her in a world where nothing mattered except his touch and her heartbeat.
But then he stopped.
He looked down at her, brushing her hair away from her damp forehead. “If I cross this line again tonight, I might not be able to come back from it.”
Emily’s eyes didn’t waver. “Then don’t come back.”
There was a long pause before he finally lay beside her instead, pulling her into his chest. The intimacy in that moment no sex, no rush just skin against skin, heart against heart was more raw than anything they’d shared before.
Her fingers traced the scar across his abdomen. “How’d you get this?”
He chuckled softly. “Motorcycle accident. Years ago. Your dad was furious.”
“You were wild back then, huh?”
“I still am. Just better at hiding it,” he said, brushing a kiss to her hairline.
They lay there in silence, listening to the hum of the city outside the penthouse. Emily felt safe, for the first time in weeks. But she knew the peace wouldn’t last.
“Alex...”
“Mhm?”
“If this goes public... if people find out... are you prepared for that? The looks, the headlines? My dad?”
He tensed. “I don’t care what people think. But your father... that’s different.”
“You’re scared of losing him?”
“I’m scared of losing you,” he said quietly.
Emily closed her eyes. “Then maybe it’s time we stop hiding.”
Alex didn’t respond immediately. His fingers stroked her back in slow, circular motions. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s not an answer,” she teased, smiling against his chest.
He sighed. “It’s the only one I can give you right now.”
The next morning, Emily woke up alone.
The sheets were cold. The space beside her empty.
She sat up quickly, heart racing. “Alex?”
No answer.
She climbed out of bed, pulling the shirt tighter around her body as she padded into the living room. The coffee machine gurgled softly, a fresh cup already waiting on the counter.
And beside it... a note.
“Had to handle something urgent. Didn’t want to wake you. I’ll be back soon. A”
Emily exhaled shakily, trying not to feel abandoned. Again.
She picked up the mug, sipped, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The skyline stretched endlessly, but all she could focus on was the storm cloud in her chest.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that Alex was slipping away.
Meanwhile…
Alex stood in front of a familiar door. His knuckles hovered above the surface before he finally knocked.
The door opened, revealing the one man he hadn’t wanted to face yet.
Her father.
“Alex?” the older man blinked. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Alex’s jaw clenched. “We need to talk.”
The man stepped aside slowly. “About what?”
“About Emily.”
Silence.
He shut the door behind him, tension thick in the air.
“You’re crossing a line, Alex,” her father said. “She’s my daughter.”
“And I’m in love with her.”
A glass shattered in the kitchen.
Her father’s fists clenched. “You don’t get to say that. Not after everything. You were supposed to protect her, not...”
“I did protect her,” Alex said. “From everything but myself. And that’s what I regret.”
The older man stared at him, fury and betrayal etched into his face. “You slept with my daughter?”
Alex didn’t answer.
“You son of a...”
“I’m not here to fight,” Alex said. “I’m here because I want you to hear it from me, not the tabloids. I care about her. This isn’t a fling.”
Her father’s voice dropped. “You were supposed to be her goddamn guardian. You’ve known her since she was a child.”
“She’s not a child anymore.”
“That doesn’t justify any of this,” he snapped. “She’s young. She doesn’t know what she wants.”
“She knows exactly what she wants,” Alex said. “And it’s me. Just like I want her.”
Silence again. Heavy. Final.
Her father stepped closer. “If you don’t end this... I will. Don’t make me your enemy, Alex.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. “It’s too late for that.”
Back at the penthouse...
Emily paced the living room, her phone in hand. She’d called three times. No answer.
Her heart thudded violently in her chest as she thought about every possibility.
What if he’d changed his mind? What if her father found out and scared him off?
She was about to dial again when the door clicked open.
Alex walked in slowly, his eyes unreadable.
She ran to him. “Where were you?! I was..."
“I talked to your father.”
She froze.
“You what?”
“I told him about us.”
Emily’s stomach dropped. “Alex...”
“He didn’t take it well,” Alex said. “But I wasn’t going to keep lying to him.”
Her hands trembled. “What did he say?”
“He threatened to destroy me.”
Emily felt tears sting her eyes. “And?”
Alex stepped closer, pulling her into his arms. “And I told him it was worth it.”