Chapter 8 Good choice
ALEXANDER POV
I didn’t waste time. I marched straight to my son’s room.
He jumped up from the bed the moment I walked in, eyes darting immediately to the door behind me hoping she was there.
She wasn’t.
The way his face fell told me everything I needed to know about how bad this situation already was.
“Daddy, where’s Rory?”
“Listen, buddy.” I crouched to his height, grabbing his small shoulders to anchor him. I needed him to see sense. “That woman is a stranger. A complete stranger. Just because she saved you doesn’t mean you have to be all over her. She’s only going to spend the day here, Liam. And then she’ll leave."
“No,” he said simply. “I promised her I’m going to give her a new husband. I want her daddy.”
I stared at my son.
What exactly had this woman done to my boy in less than two hours? Liam had never wanted anyone this much. Had never reached for anyone, never held anyone’s hand, never looked at the door hoping a specific person would walk through it. Not since Anastasia.
“She’s a person, Liam. You can’t just ‘want’ her like she’s a toy,” I tried, my voice strained. I was a man who moved mountains and broke empires, yet I couldn't negotiate with a six-year-old.
“You promised me,” he said. His voice was quiet but there was nothing small about it. “You said you’d give me anything I want if I spoke again. Anything daddy. I want Rory.” He paused and when he continued his voice broke slightly at the edges. “Rory feels like mummy.”
Everything in me went completely still.
Rory feels like mummy.
The words were a death sentence. I had dreaded this day—the day he would try to fill the gaping, bloody hole Anastasia had left behind. But I never expected him to fill it with a knockoff.
I looked at my son. At this boy who was the only reason I had gotten out of bed every morning for four years. The only thing that had kept me from disappearing entirely into the kind of darkness that didn’t let people back out. I would burn the entire world down for this child without blinking.
If he wanted Aurora Hales I would give him Aurora Hales.
“You want Rory?” I said. “Fine. I’ll make her your new nanny.”
His face transformed completely. Like someone had switched a light on behind his eyes, bright and sudden and so completely Liam that something tightened in my chest looking at it.
“Really?” he said.
“Really,” I said. “But Liam, she still has to agree. And you are going to behave yourself. No more sneaking out of this house. No more disappearing. Are we understood?”
He nodded vigorously, already moving toward the door.
“Hey.” I caught his shoulder gently. “I’ll handle it. You stay here.”
He looked at me for a long moment the way he always did, checking, measuring, deciding whether I was trustworthy on this particular matter.
“Promise?” he said.
“Promise,” I said.
He climbed back onto the bed, pulling his knees to his chest, watching me with those eyes that missed absolutely nothing.
“Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Don't make her scared,I think she's scared of you.” he said quietly. “Please.”
I looked at my son for a moment. Then I stood up and straightened my jacket.
“I’ll try,” I shrugged.
The look he gave me in response was so thoroughly unconvinced that I almost laughed. Almost.
I walked out and pulled the door behind me.
When I walked back into the sitting room, she looked exactly like what she was: prey.
Her fingers were twisting frantically in her lap, her knuckles white. She was perched on the very edge of the velvet chair, her weight shifted forward like she was ready to bolt at the first sign of a predator.
I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "I've never seen someone whose life sucks as much as yours," I said flatly.
Her eyes flashed with a mix of confusion and wounded pride. "W-what do you mean, sir?"
I didn’t answer immediately. Instead I let my eyes move over her slowly. She was wearing a short blue flared dress that stopped above her knees, the neckline dipping just enough to tease-showing just enough cleavage to make my pulse thrum with a dark, unwanted heat.
My eyes lingered there, tracing the swell of her breasts.
She felt it. I watched the discomfort move across her face, watched her dart her eyes away to somewhere safer and find nowhere particularly safe to land.
I took two steps toward her, looming over her seated frame. Towering. From this angle, she looked small, breakable. Something dark kicked in my gut-a sudden, violent temptation to wrap my fingers around that soft throat. Not to hurt. Not exactly. But to feel the pulse of her life beneath my palm.
what the fuck am I thinking? I snapped out of it, my jaw tightening. Just because she looked like my wife didn't make her my wife. Anastasia was a queen, this girl was a tragedy in a cheap dress.
I reached out, tilting her chin up with my index finger. Her breath caught, a sharp hitch in the air as my skin touched hers. Anastasia’s eyes looked up at me from close range and I held them there for a moment longer than necessary.
"What a shame," I muttered, my voice a low rasp. "All that effort for a man who didn't even want you."
I dropped my hand abruptly and took two steps back, putting space between us. "I have an offer for you. Though, honestly, it's more of a rescue mission."
She swallowed hard. "I don't n-need rescuing."
Ilet out a short, mocking laugh. "Don't you? Your mother is in hospital,” I said. “Stroke. The bills are bleeding you dry and you can barely keep up. Your father is useless and I mean spectacularly, consistently useless. You lost your job, which means you have no income, and before you manage to find another one — if you manage to find another one — your mother could very well be dead.” I paused. “Did I miss anything?”
Her jaw tightened. “You had no right to—”
“Be my son’s nanny,” I said. “And who knows. All your problems might just disappear.”
She stared at me. Then something shifted behind her eyes, something that wasn’t fear. Something with a little heat in it.
“You don’t even like me,” she said. “That’s obvious. So why would you want me anywhere near your son?”
Good. There was a spine in there somewhere.
“Because my son wants you,” I said simply. Then I let my eyes move over her face once more,that face, that impossible familiar face, and added, “And that face of yours. I’m not done with it.”
She recoiled, her eyes wide. "Let me... I n-need to think. I'll get back to you."
I almost smiled.
“You don’t have time,” I said. I checked my watch. “You have no realistic hope of finding another job before your mother’s next bill is due. Your father isn’t going to suddenly become useful. And the woman you bought that twenty dollar watch from on credit? The one you gave to your cheating prick of a fiancé?"
Her jaw dropped. "How did you—?"
"She'll be at your front door in exactly four hours looking for her money.”
The color drained from her face.
My assistant had sent through considerably more than I had expected. There was enough on Aurora Hales to keep her here indefinitely if I needed it. The watch. The debt. The neighbor she had borrowed fifty dollars from three weeks ago. The landlord who had been lenient twice already. A long, detailed, deeply inconvenient list of reasons why walking out of this penthouse without agreeing was the worst decision she could make today.
The silence in the room was heavy. I watched her struggle, watched the fire in her eyes die out as the reality of her life came crashing back down.
"Fine," she whispered, her shoulders slumping in total defeat. "I'll do it."
"Good choice," I said, already turning toward the door. "Try not to make me regret it."