Olivia's confidence faltered, her heart sinking at the cruel words. She opened her mouth to respond, but her voice caught in her throat. The woman's gaze was sharp and judgmental, dissecting her like she was nothing more than a pawn in Alexander's game.
Before she could respond, Alexander stepped forward, his expression thunderous. "That's enough, Cassandra," he said in a low, menacing tone. "I won't tolerate anyone disrespecting my wife."
The woman's face paled, and she stammered an apology before hastily retreating. Olivia felt Alexander's hand on her arm, guiding her away from the crowd and into a quieter corner of the room. His touch was gentle, almost comforting, and when they finally stopped, he turned to face her, his expression softening.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.
Olivia nodded, though her throat felt tight. "Yes, thank you. I just… I didn't expect that."
He let out a sigh, his fingers brushing lightly against her arm. "This world isn't kind, Olivia. People will say things and assume things, especially when it comes to you and me. But you don't have to prove anything to them. You belong here as much as anyone else."
His words surprised her, a faint warmth spreading through her chest. For a moment, she thought she saw something vulnerable in his expression—a glimpse of a man who, despite his wealth and power, understood what it felt like to be judged. She felt an overwhelming urge to know more, to dig deeper and understand the man behind the mask.
"Thank you, Alexander," she said softly, her voice laced with gratitude.
He held her gaze, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I meant what I said. You're my wife now. I may not be a perfect husband, but I won't let anyone hurt you."
The ride back to the penthouse was silent, but the air between them crackled with tension. Alexander had removed his jacket, loosening his tie, and Olivia couldn't help but notice how different he looked—relaxed, almost approachable. She found herself stealing glances at him, wondering what thoughts lingered behind his guarded expression.
When they arrived, he walked her to her room, as he always did, but tonight, there was something different in his eyes. He lingered at the doorway, his gaze fixed on her as if he were struggling with some unspoken decision.
"Olivia," he began, his voice low and filled with something she couldn't quite decipher. "This... arrangement may have started as a contract, but I want you to know... you're more than just a business deal to me."
Her heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. She looked up at him, searching his face for any hint of deception, but all she saw was sincerity, a rare openness that made her heart ache.
"Alexander, why did you choose me?" She asked, her voice trembling. "Out of all the people you could have chosen... why me?"
He hesitated, his jaw clenched as if he were wrestling with the answer. "Because... you're different. You're genuine, unafraid to stand up for yourself, even if it means going against me. You're the kind of person who would sacrifice everything for her family. That... that takes courage."
Her heart swelled, her emotions a tangled mess of confusion and longing. She'd spent so long thinking of him as cold and unfeeling, but tonight she saw glimpses of a man who understood loyalty, who valued strength and kindness. For the first time, she felt like maybe, just maybe, they weren't so different after all.
Before she could respond, he took a step back, his mask slipping back into place. "Goodnight, Olivia," he said, his voice returning to its usual, distant tone.
But even as he walked away, she felt a lingering warmth in her chest, a spark of hope that maybe, beneath the layers of control and power, there was a man who cared—a man who, despite his flaws, might be capable of something more.
Days turned into weeks, and their routine continued, but Olivia felt a shift in their interactions. Alexander was still guarded, his demeanor as professional as ever, but there were moments, brief and fleeting, when he'd let his walls down, showing her small glimpses of his true self. She found herself looking forward to those moments, savoring each one like a precious gift.
One evening, as they shared a quiet dinner in the penthouse, Olivia dared to ask him a question that had been on her mind for weeks.
"Alexander… do you ever regret anything?" she asked, her voice gentle but probing.
He looked up, his gaze sharp but contemplative. "Regret is a luxury I can't afford," he replied, his tone almost bitter. "Every decision I've made has brought me to where I am. To regret would mean doubting the choices that have defined me."
She sensed a hint of pain in his words, a loneliness that resonated with her struggles. "But... you're not alone now," she said softly, her gaze unwavering. "I know this marriage is just an arrangement, but... I'm here, Alexander. You don't have to carry everything alone."
For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes searching her face. She felt her heart racing, the air between them thick with an unspoken tension. And then, slowly, he reached across the table, his hand covering hers.