Chapter 68
Richard's POV
I pulled out my phone and dialed our family attorney.
"I need you to help me find Kevin Martinez. Yes, the reporter." I glanced at Laura's desperate face. "I also need you to arrange hush money and get him out of the country. Make sure he understands that silence is part of the deal. No names. No sources. Nothing."
Laura's shoulders sagged with relief.
I ended the call and pressed my fingers to my temples. The familiar pressure was building behind my eyes. Sharp. Insistent.
Not now. Please not now.
But the migraine didn't care.
Images flashed through my mind—Grace's gentle hands on my forehead. Her soft voice telling me to breathe. How she'd dim the lights without being asked. How she'd prepare that special tea blend and sit quietly beside me until the pain subsided.
She always knew exactly what I needed.
The realization twisted something deep in my chest.
"Richard?" Laura's voice sounded distant. "Are you okay?"
"Fine." I straightened, pushing the pain down. "I'm handling it. But Laura—this can never happen again. Do you understand? Never."
She nodded frantically. "Never. I promise."
---
Grace's POV
7:00 PM
I stirred the pasta sauce and checked my phone again. Still no reply from Alex.
I'd wanted to invite him over for dinner—nothing fancy, just the Italian meal we'd talked about during our last call. But he'd texted hours ago saying he'd be tied up with emergency negotiations until late.
I poured myself a blue martini. The color reminded me of Alex's eyes.
When did I start thinking like this?
I took a sip and smiled despite myself. Last time I'd made this drink, Alex had raised an eyebrow and even choked on it. Then he'd downed the whole thing.
For someone so cold and commanding in public, he's surprisingly adorable in private.
The apartment felt too quiet. Too empty.
I curled up on the couch with my drink, trying to focus on the book I'd been reading. Failed. Checked my phone. Nothing.
Stop being clingy, Grace.
---
11:00 PM
The buzzing of my phone jerked me awake.
I blinked at the screen. Alex.
"Hello?" My voice came out rough from sleep.
"I miss you."
Three words. Low and rough and impossibly warm.
My heart did something stupid in my chest.
"Me too," I whispered.
"Were you sleeping?"
"Just dozing on the couch." I sat up, pushing hair out of my face. "How was the meeting?"
"Terrible. The negotiations ran long." A pause. "I kept thinking about that pasta you mentioned."
"I made the sauce earlier. It's probably cold by now."
"Shame." His voice softened. "I would've liked to taste it."
"Where are you right now? Specifically."
"I'm outside your apartment. Open the door."
"What?" I dropped the phone and ran.
My bare feet slapped against the hardwood floor. I fumbled with the locks and yanked the door open.
Alex stood there in a dark suit, his tie loosened, hair slightly disheveled. His eyes found mine immediately.
"Hi."
"You..." I couldn't find words. "Weren't you in a meeting?"
"I was." He stepped inside, and I caught the scent of cold night air clinging to him. "Then I decided I'd rather be here."
"You came back for—"
"For you." He pulled me into his arms before I could finish. "I wanted to see you, so I ended the meeting early."
I buried my face in his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat.
Something warm and overwhelming bloomed in my chest.
---
Twenty minutes later, I was showing Alex what I'd prepared.
"I wasn't sure when you'd stay over, but I wanted to be ready." I gestured to the dresser. "Toothbrush, razor, and..." I pulled open a drawer, revealing two sets of black silk pajamas. "I noticed you prefer black silk. These are two different styles—one with a collar, one without. I wasn't sure which you'd like better."
Alex stared at the pajamas for a long moment.
He turned to face me fully. His expression was complex—surprised, moved, something else I couldn't quite name.
"Thank you." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Thank you for being so thoughtful."
My cheeks heated. "It's not a big deal. Just basic—"
"Grace." He cupped my face gently. "Listen to me. Every bit of care you show deserves to be cherished and valued. Remember that."
I blinked back sudden tears.
Richard never said thank you.
I'd memorized his coffee order—two sugars, no cream. I'd known which dry cleaner he preferred for his suits. I'd updated his wardrobe seasonally, replaced his worn ties, remembered his mother's birthday when he forgot.
And he'd accepted it all like it was owed to him.
But Alex...
Alex noticed. Alex thanked me. Alex told me I deserved to be cherished.
"You okay?" He was watching me closely now, concern creasing his forehead.
"Yeah." I managed a smile. "Just... thank you. For saying that."
He pulled me into his arms again, and I let myself lean into him.
This is what it feels like to be valued.
---
We ended up on the couch with coffee. Alex had changed into one of the silk pajama sets—the one with the collar. It looked devastatingly good on him.
"There's something I need to tell you," I said quietly.
He set down his mug immediately. "What's wrong?"
"The article. The one about me being a..." I swallowed. "You saw it, didn't you?"
"I saw it. I also saw it was retracted within an hour." His hand found mine. "Grace, I don't—"
"It was all lies." The words tumbled out. "The photos were doctored. The sources were fake. Someone hired a reporter to destroy my reputation." I looked up at him. "If you have any doubts, I need you to tell me now. Because I can't—"
"Grace." He turned my face toward his. "Since I chose you as my fiancée, and future wife, I will have complete trust in you. Do you understand? Complete trust."
My eyes stung. "But your reputation. Your family's name. If people think—"
"We're going to be husband and wife." His thumb brushed my cheek. "If you're not well, I won't be well either. Your battles are my battles. Your enemies are my enemies. And anyone who tries to hurt you will answer to me."
The fierceness in his voice made my breath catch.
"Alex..."
"I mean it." He pulled me closer. "You're not alone anymore, Grace. You don't have to fight everything by yourself."
I pressed my forehead to his shoulder, keeping words of gratitude unspoken.