CHAPTER 11%
There was a smile on my face–a soft, unburdened expression Alexander had never seen before.
I laughed as I flirted with the man beside me, the two of us feeding each other sweet, freshly picked grapes from the vine. My hair caught the golden light, loose and natural instead of the carefully styled perfection Alexander was used to seeing.”
I was wearing a red sundress–the same red dress I had bought three years ago and never worn because Alexander once said red was “too bold” for a wife. Now the fabric moved freely in the breeze, bright and defiant.%
Alexander never got to say those rehearsed words.%
He just stood there, frozen among the scattered white roses, and asked the only question his mind could process.
“Who is he?”
I felt my body tense slightly at the familiar voice. The man beside me–tall, dark–haired, with the kind of easy confidence that came from never having to prove himself–tightened his hold around my waist protectively.
“You must be Alexander, right?” the man said, his voice carrying a slight accent I couldn’t place. “I’ve seen your wedding photo with Lauren.”
He looked Alexander up and down with barely concealed disdain. “Tch. I didn’t expect you to look even worse in real life.“%
I couldn’t help but giggle at his blunt assessment, and Alexander watched the tension drain from my body as I relaxed against the stranger’s side. That small sound–my laughter at another man’s joke–hit Alexander like a physical blow straight to his chest. His hands clenched into fists so tight his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood that dripped onto the white roses at his feet.2 “Since you came all this way, the man continued with mock politeness, “I’ll be civil and introduce myself. I’m Marcus, Lauren’s—“> “Marcus?” Alexander cut him off, his voice sharp with recognition.
I felt Marcus’s arm tighten around me, but he maintained his casual stance, one eyebrow raised in mild amusement.
Alexander’s mind raced. Marcus Beaurnont. The heir to a Swiss banking fortune. I had mentioned him once, years ago–a friend from my college days who had moved to Europe after graduation. Alexander had been so buried in work he had barely listened to the story.”
Now Marcus stood in the vineyard like he owned it, his arm around my waist, grape juice staining his lips from where I had fed him moments before.M
“You remember me,” Marcus said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “How flattering. Though I suppose Lauren mentioned me once or twice over the years.”
Alexander’s chest burned–not just from the fresh tattoo hidden beneath his bloodstained shirt, but from something deeper, more primal. Jealousy Pure, consuming jealousy.
“What is this?” Alexander’s voice was low, dangerous. “What are you doing here with my wife?”
I stepped slightly in front of Marcus, my chin raised in defiance. “Your wife?” My voice was steady, controlled. “I believe you received some papers that would suggest otherwise.“/
“I tore them up.”
“That doesn’t make them less real, Alexander,” I picked up one of the fallen roses from the ground, twirling it between my fingers. “Did you really fly all the way to Switzerland to… what? Drag me home? Force me to play the dutiful wife again?“}
Alexander’s eyes fixed on the rose in my hands–one of the 999 he had carefully selected, now crushed and wilted from the fall.
“I came to apologize,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I came to bring you home.“/
“Home?” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You mean the penthouse where Victoria sleeps in our bed? Where her pregnancy vitamins sit on my bathroom counter?
“She’s gone,” Alexander said quickly. “I sent her away. I told her to take everything and leave.”
Marcus made a soft sound of disbelief. “How noble of you. And it only took you–what–six years to choose your actual wife over your
mistress?”
“This doesn’t concern you,” Alexander snapped, taking a step forward.”
I moved protectively in front of Marcus, and the gesture sent another spike of pain through Alexander’s chest.
“Actually, it does concern him,” I said quietly. “Because unlike you, Marcus has been nothing but honest with me from the moment we reconnected.”
“Reconnected?” Alexander’s voice was hollow.”
“Three months ago,” I said, meeting his eyes steadily. “When I first started planning my escape. Marcus helped me set up the Swiss bank accounts. He helped me find this place. He’s been… a friend when I needed one most.“%
The word ‘friend‘ hung in the air, loaded with implications that made Alexander’s blood run cold.
“And now?” Alexander asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.
Marcus pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head, the gesture intimate and possessive. “Now she’s deciding what she wants her new life to look like.“2
I leaned into Marcus’s touch, my eyes never leaving Alexander’s face. “A life where I don’t have to beg for attention. Where I’m not invisible in my own home. Where someone actually sees me when I walk into a room.”
Alexander opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Because standing there in that vineyard, watching me in another man’s arms, he finally understood the magnitude of what he had lost.
8:26 PM
