Chapter 29
Alexander's POV
The moment she slipped into that room, she had trespassed into a sanctuary I kept sealed from the world.
After my parents' death, I had gone to extreme lengths to prevent anyone from approaching that space, a place where their memory was preserved, untouched. But Elizabeth broke in easily.
She had used the child in her womb as a bargaining chip to threaten me, and for that, I had locked her in her bedroom.
As night fell, memories of my parents swarmed my mind, a relentless tide that chased away any hope of sleep.
Passing Elizabeth's room, I noticed a sliver of light bleeding from beneath the door. I retrieved the key, turned the lock, and pushed the door open to find her hunched over the desk, engrossed in writing something.
She was so completely absorbed in her task that she didn't register my presence at first.
It was only when the sound of my footsteps broke the room's heavy silence that she jerked her head up, her eyes meeting mine. They were wide with alarm and a guarded unease.
"What are you doing here?"
She shot to her feet, instinctively trying to shield the papers on the desk with her body. Her flustered movements, the way her posture radiated panic, made it seem as if she were hiding a damning secret.
I narrowed my eyes, my gaze a sharp, probing instrument as I assessed this clumsy attempt at concealment.
"What is that?"
Elizabeth's body went rigid. Her gaze darted away, unable to meet mine. "It's nothing, really. Just my private things. You shouldn't look."
The more she insisted on privacy, the more my curiosity was piqued. Within the walls of this estate, everything was under my control; there had never been a secret I was not permitted to know.
"Move," I commanded, my voice dropping to a low, impatient register.
The shift in my tone was enough to make her flinch. A palpable fear bloomed in her beautiful eyes, and she seemed to shrink under my gaze.
"It's really not anything that could hurt you, I promise. Please, don't look."
I ignored her plea, closing the distance between us with deliberate, measured steps.
Reaching around her, I plucked the sheet of paper from the desk. What met my eyes was not a letter or a plan, but a design sketch.
"This is…?"
Though composed of only a few deft strokes, the sketch was remarkably vivid, the passion of its creator evident in every line.
Elizabeth drew this? Did she know design?
It certainly wasn't the kind of weapon I had half-expected, but her desperate need to hide it still felt suspicious. There was no logical reason for such secrecy.
"What is there to hide about this?"
My sole purpose in keeping her here was for her to recuperate and deliver the child. I had no interest in her personal affairs. But her frantic behavior was a red flag, a signal that something was amiss.
I watched her closely, catching the flicker of her eyes as she risked a glance at me before quickly looking down again.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I didn't mean to go into that room. I wanted to give you a gift, to make up for it."
She spoke with a careful, delicate tone, as if walking on eggshells, terrified of provoking me again.
My eyes returned to the design on the paper, my brow furrowing slightly. "For me?"
"I hope you can forgive me. I know how important that room is to you, and I swear I'll never go near it again."
Her words carried a strange sincerity, an earnestness that made one want to believe her. I looked at her, truly looked at her, and felt the sharp edges of my anger begin to dull.
"I promise, I didn't touch anything when I was inside. Really!" Elizabeth held up her fingers in a clumsy oath, a childish gesture meant to prove her honesty.
I remained impassive, watching as the color drained from her face under my silent scrutiny. She was genuinely terrified of me.
I handed the sketch back to her and turned to leave.
A strange, unwelcome flicker of anticipation had sparked within me at the mention of this gift.
Just as I reached the door, she called out, her voice hesitant. "Mr. Windsor! Can you… can you please not lock me in here anymore? I promise I won't wander off again."
I didn't acknowledge her request. I simply closed the door behind me.
Elizabeth was not a woman to be trusted. She was adept at using vulnerability and falsehoods to get what she wanted, and I would not be so easily swayed.
The next morning, the empty seat across from me at the dining table served as a stark reminder that she was still confined.
I gave the order to allow her to join me for meals. When the news reached her, her small face lit up with a joy so pure it was almost jarring. She sat down opposite me, her movements cautious and respectful.
"Thank you, Mr. Windsor!"
Faced with the radiant smile spreading across her lips, I found myself momentarily at a loss for a response.
"Stay in your room and behave," I warned, my tone deliberately severe as I prepared to leave. "You know the consequences if you anger me again."
The change in her was instantaneous. Her smile vanished, her pupils dilating with alarm. She looked like a startled animal, a faint tremor running through her body. A powerful sense of control washed over me at the sight. Her fear was, to my surprise, deeply satisfying.
At the office, Charles delivered his morning report.
"Mr. Windsor, a few of the internal traitors are still at large. No trace of them yet. Also, your uncle seems to be getting restless. I'm concerned he might make another move against you."
A cold smirk touched my lips. "He dares to try again after his last ambush failed to cripple me?"
My uncle, Hayden Windsor, had long coveted my position. His last attempt had been a brazen, undisguised attack, cornering me in the black market.
If Elizabeth hadn't appeared out of nowhere to intervene, the outcome could have been grim.
"Mr. Windsor, Mr. Hayden Windsor is cunning," Charles cautioned. "Even if we capture his men, we won't get a confession that directly implicates him. The priority now is to increase your personal security. We can't afford another incident."
"He won't dare to make such an open move again," I said, my eyes narrowing. "But post more men around the estate. Just in case."
Hayden was obsessed with usurping me; he was undoubtedly investigating every facet of my life. It was almost certain that he already knew about Elizabeth.
Keeping her at the house was as much for her protection as it was for my peace of mind while she carried the child.
The decision to freeze my sperm had been my parents' wish. Now that they were gone, this child had become the last tangible link I had to them.
I had to protect him. Once Elizabeth delivered him safely, I would keep him by my side and raise him as my heir.
As for Elizabeth, if she proved to be intelligent and compliant, I wouldn't object to her remaining in her child's life. But if she lacked the sense to do so, I would remove her without a second thought.
"Mr. Windsor, are you worried about Ms. Spencer?"
Charles's voice cut through my thoughts. I leveled a sharp gaze at him. "Do you think I'm worried about her?"
Did my arrangements constitute worry in the eyes of others?
He swallowed nervously, visibly intimidated. "I only meant you seem to treat Ms. Spencer with a certain consideration."
"Is that so?" I let the subject drop.
The drive home confirmed my suspicions. Several cars were tailing us, their pursuit clumsy but persistent. I instructed my driver to take a series of detours until we finally shook them.
Upon arriving at the estate, my first act was to inquire about Elizabeth's day. Then, I went directly to her room.
She was at her desk again, just as she had been the night before. This time, however, when she saw me, the fear was gone, replaced by something else. A flicker of hope, perhaps.
"Mr. Windsor, could you help me find something? I want to make your gift by hand."