Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
It wasn’t unusual for her to be affectionate, but this... this was different. There was a desperation in the way she clung to me that caught me off guard.
"Don’t leave us, Lo," she murmured, her voice so low it was a whisper. "Don’t leave me."
I froze, the meaning of her words sinking in. She knew. Esther had seen whoever left the note, but she wasn’t saying anything. Her grip on me tightened for just a moment, and I realized she was begging me to stay—not just with the family, but with her. She pulled back, her smile returning as if nothing had happened. “Come on, it’s time for dessert.”
I nodded, following her down the hall, my mind still racing. We entered a cozy dining room, where everyone else had already gathered. Emilio sat at the far end of the table, talking animatedly with Bishop, a glass of wine in his hand.
The mood was lighter than I’d expected, too light considering the weight of what I’d just learned. As soon as I stepped into the room, I felt Alexander’s eyes on me. His gaze was always intense, but now, knowing what I did, it felt like a constant reminder of the ties that bound us—ties I hadn’t fully understood until tonight. He smiled when he saw me, but it wasn’t the kind of smile that eased tension. It was the kind that pulled you in, made you forget everything except him.
In the center of the table was a massive double chocolate cake, decadent and rich, the scent filling the air. Draven leaned back in his chair, his arm casually draped around Adelita, a proud grin on his face. “Best cakes on the Isle,” he boasted, looking at his wife with open admiration.
She smiled at him affectionately, her eyes softening as she met his gaze. It was a side of her I hadn’t seen yet—more vulnerable.
The woman who had once warned me about her son now seemed perfectly at ease in her role as wife and mother. It was a strange contrast, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Alexander approached me with that same unwavering focus, his presence commanding the room without even trying. He moved closer, his hand finding its way to the small of my back, guiding me toward the table with that same possessive touch I had grown used to.
His fingers lingered, warm against my skin, and I couldn’t help but feel the slight shift in our dynamic now that I knew the truth. Family. It felt twisted and wrong, yet the connection between us hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had only deepened. He pulled out a chair for me, his eyes never leaving mine as I sat down. Emilio, seated across from us, raised his glass in a mock toast. “Took you long enough,” he teased, his easy grin lighting up the room.
“I had to freshen up,” I replied, forcing a small smile, though my mind was still buzzing. Emilio and Alexander exchanged a look—one I couldn’t quite decipher—before Alexander took his seat beside me. He served us both a slice of cake, as was our habit, sliding the plate between us as if we were the only two in the room.
I glanced around the table, noticing the casual way they all interacted, like this was just another family gathering. Bishop was cracking a joke with Esther, who rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t suppress a grin. Draven and Adelita whispered quietly to each other, lost in their own world.
The conversation ebbed and flowed around me, and for the first time in a while, I didn’t feel like an outsider. Alexander’s arm rested on the back of my chair, his thumb brushing the edge of my shoulder in gentle, possessive strokes.
The cake was delicious, rich, and sweet, but it was hard to focus on anything other than the man beside me, and the secrets that now bound us tighter than ever before. I found myself laughing along with Bishop and Emilio, even as my mind continued to swirl with everything I had just learned. It was unsettling how normal it all felt—how easily I was slipping into this role, sharing a meal, talking with them as if nothing had changed. As if I wasn’t now aware of the twisted legacy, I was a part of.
Alexander leaned in; his breath warm against my ear. “You’re doing well,” he murmured, his voice low, meant only for me. I turned my head to meet his gaze, and there it was again—that magnetic pull that refused to let me go. Even though my world had been upended, even though everything about us should have felt wrong, sitting here, sharing a plate with him, surrounded by his—our—family, it somehow felt right.
We didn’t head back to the estate that night. At some point, as the hours grew late and the house quieted, Alexander took my hand and led me upstairs. Esther had already disappeared to bed, and the rest of the family had scattered, leaving the house cloaked in an intimate stillness.