CHAPTER 11•WHO IS SHE?

~Alexander.

Her gaze darted toward me as I unbuttoned my shirt.

“Wait—what are you doing?” she stammered.

“Getting ready for bed,” I said blandly. “If I leave this room tonight, my mother will know this marriage is a faux. We’re supposed to make it look real, remember?”

“B-but—”

I began unbuttoning my shirt, smirking when she stammered and turned away, cheeks flaming red.

“I—uh—can’t you sleep on the couch?”

I glanced at the couch. Then back at her. “No.”

She huffed, sliding the french doors open to make a beeline for the terrace to avoid watching me shed another layer.

I smirked. “Relax. I’m not going to touch you, Chiara. Not unless you beg me to.”

That earned me a muffled curse and the sound of the terrace door slamming.

Good. I needed the distance.A blatant innocence and staunch defiance did weird things to me .

I hit the shower, letting the water burn away the tension in my shoulders. While sponging,I traced my chest tattoo,right where my heart nestled.

Anna.

I shut my eyes against the memories and soaped myself..

when I came out — with nothing but a dry towel slung low on my hips,my hair dripping with moisture — she was still outside, leaning against the railing, staring up at the stars

Her voice was beautiful ,low, trembling — but it carried.

‘Mama, Papa,I hope you can see me now. I’m a hair's breath from living the life you dreamed for me—the one you worked so hard to build. I’m still learning, still stumbling, but I’m trying. And I promise… soon, I’ll make it all worth it. ’"

Something twisted in my chest — a feeling I didn’t recognize, didn’t want to recognize.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching her. The moonlight painted her in silver, her hair a wild red halo around her face, her slender body unyielding and outlined so ethereally in the moonlight.

And for the first time that night, I couldn’t think of her as the woman I had to put up with though I was sexually attracted to her ,Only as the woman I couldn’t stop staring at.

A sound escaped me — soft, involuntary. She turned sharply, eyes wide, catching sight of me half-dressed and glistening with water.

She stared transfixed.I watched her bite her lips at the sight of my dripping wet abs.I tilted my head, bemused.

"Quit eye fucking me ,Chiara."

She reddened to the roots of her hair again.

"I w-wasn't"

She denied heatedly.

"Oh you were.Little Alex was getting all charged up by the way you were staring at him " I dropped my voice to a whisper"Though I can promise you he ain't that little."

I watched her pray to be swallowed by the earth then.I was enjoying myself.

God,she was cute.

She caught my teasing smile and hit me half playfully on the chest.

"You cad!!Stop teasing me."

I chuckled under my breath. “Its alright.I get that look a lot from women".

She rolled her eyes.

" I didn't know Amelia was part of the Carrington family."she paused.

I wasn't fooled a bit.

" Who's -?"

" Amelia's my step sister."

I made sure she got the hidden meaning behind those word from the way I flung it at her.

Don't ask me anymore questions about her.

"Come inside before you catch a cold.”

Instead, she slipped out again through the glass doors and onto the terrace, wrapping her arms around herself. I watched her for a moment — the wind tugging gently at her hair, the moonlight spilling over her shoulders.

By the time I towelled myself dry and stepped back out, she was still there —star- gazing.

She turned quickly, startled. Her eyes dropped to my chest before darting away. “You should put on a shirt,” she muttered. “You’ll catch a cold.”

I sent her a look “Worried about me?”

“Hardly.” She huffed, but her cheeks betrayed her.

I stepped up beside her, the night air brushing coolly between us. “So you love stargazing or what?”

"You have a beautiful home?"

"House“I corrected sharply" Don't get used to it."

She hesitated, then whispered," this might sound crazy but don't laugh ?”

“Depends,” I said , shrugging

She rolled her eyes,a tiny smile on her lips. “I’m serious.”

“Fine,” I murmured. “I won’t laugh.”

She exhaled softly, eyes still on the sky. “I think I’ve been here before .”

Something in her tone — that quiet, wistful awe — made me still.

I turned, watching her slender fingers rise ,almost unconsciously ,to touch the key-shaped pendant at her throat. The moonlight glinted off the gold edges, and an inexplicable thrill ran down my spine.

She smiled faintly, lost in her own thoughts. “Or a dream."she turned to me " Weird, right?”

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I found myself studying her — the way her hair framed her face like fire against the dark, the soft tremor in her voice, the strange ache that tugged at my chest.

Who was Chiara DeLuca, really?

And why did she feel like a mystery I’d known long before we ever met?