CHAPTER 16: HIS JEALOUS SIDE

I had forgotten what it felt like to laugh without worrying about who might be watching.

That afternoon, Victoria had arranged a meeting with a representative from one of the interior design colleges. Alexander had approved it, although he had made it clear that a member of his security team would accompany me.

I was beginning to accept that freedom inside the Blackwood mansion came with conditions.

After the meeting, I stopped at a small café near the college. My guard, a broad-shouldered man named Mark, waited outside while I ordered a cup of tea.

I was checking my phone when someone called my name.

“Amelia Carter?”

I looked up.

A man in a light blue shirt stood beside my table. He had warm brown eyes, short curly hair, and a friendly smile.

For a second, I didn't recognize him.

Then his smile widened.

“Don't tell me you've forgotten me already.”

“Ethan?”

He laughed.

“Finally.”

I stood up, surprised.

Ethan Brooks had attended a few evening art classes with me two years earlier. He had been one of the few people who encouraged my interest in interior design when everyone else told me to find a more practical career.

“I can't believe it's you,” I said.

“Same here. What are you doing around this part of town?”

“I had a college meeting.”

His eyes brightened.

“Are you finally studying interior design?”

“I'm trying.”

“That sounds like good news.”

We sat down, and for the next twenty minutes, I almost forgot about the mansion, the threats, and the secrets that seemed to follow me everywhere.

Ethan told me he now worked with a small interior design company. He showed me pictures of a restaurant renovation he had helped with, explaining how they had turned a narrow, dark space into something warm and welcoming.

I found myself leaning closer to look at the photographs.

“This is beautiful,” I said.

“Thank you. We need people with fresh ideas. You should come by sometime.”

“Are you offering me a job?”

“I'm offering you a chance to see what we do. If you like it, we can talk.”

I smiled.

For once, someone was speaking to me about my future without making it sound like a favour I owed them.

“You haven't changed,” Ethan said.

“What does that mean?”

“You still look at every room as if you're planning to rearrange it.”

I laughed.

“Maybe because most rooms need rearranging.”

He smiled back.

“That's the Amelia I remember.”

I felt a little warmth in my chest.

Then a familiar voice interrupted us.

“Amelia.”

My smile disappeared.

Alexander stood beside our table.

He wore a black suit and a dark overcoat, his expression calm enough to be frightening. Mark was a few steps behind him.

I hadn't expected him to come.

“Alexander,” I said.

His eyes moved briefly to Ethan.

“And who is this?”

Ethan stood politely.

“Ethan Brooks. We know each other from art classes.”

Alexander looked at him without offering his hand.

“Do you?”

Ethan seemed to notice the coldness, but he remained friendly.

“We were just catching up.”

“I can see that.”

Alexander pulled out the chair beside me and sat down.

I stared at him.

“Were you looking for me?”

“I was informed that your meeting had ended.”

“That doesn't explain why you're here.”

His gaze shifted to Ethan.

“I thought it would be sensible to bring you back to the mansion.”

Ethan gave a small nod.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again, Amelia.”

“You too.”

“I meant what I said. Come by the office sometime.”

“I will.”

Alexander's expression didn't change, but his fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

Ethan smiled at me once more before leaving.

The moment he was out of earshot, Alexander spoke.

“You seem comfortable with him.”

I turned toward him.

“Because he is an old friend.”

“He appears very interested in you.”

I let out a short breath.

“He offered to show me his workplace. That's called being friendly.”

“Does he often invite women he barely sees to visit him?”

“He didn't invite me anywhere inappropriate.”

Alexander's jaw tightened.

I leaned back in my chair.

“Are you jealous?”

His eyes met mine.

“Don't flatter yourself.”

“Then why are you questioning me?”

“Because I don't know him.”

“You don't need to know every man I speak to.”

“I do when that man may have an interest in you.”

I stared at him.

“Why?”

He didn't answer immediately.

“Because people can use you to get close to me.”

There it was.

His favourite explanation.

Not that he cared. Not that he disliked seeing another man make me smile.

Just security.

I shook my head.

“Not every person who talks to me is part of your enemies' plan, Alexander.”

“You have no idea how many people are watching you.”

“And you have no idea how exhausting it is to live like every conversation is dangerous.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“You think I enjoy this?”

“I think you enjoy being in control.”

His eyes hardened.

“Control is the only reason you're still safe.”

I stood up.

“No. Your security team is the reason I'm safe. Your control is the reason I feel like a prisoner.”

He rose slowly, his expression unreadable.

“Let's go.”

“I can return with Mark.”

“I said we're leaving.”

“And I said I can make that decision myself.”

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then Alexander stepped aside.

“Fine. Mark will take you back.”

I picked up my bag and walked toward the exit.

I could feel his eyes following me.

The drive back to the mansion was silent.

Alexander arrived about fifteen minutes after I did. I was in the sitting area of my room, looking through Ethan's photographs again, when he appeared at the open doorway.

“May I come in?”

I looked up, surprised by the question.

“Since when do you ask?”

“Since you made it clear that you expect me to.”

I closed my laptop.

“What do you want?”

He stepped inside, leaving the door open.

“To understand what happened earlier.”

“You mean why I spoke to Ethan?”

“Yes.”

I laughed without humour.

“There's nothing to understand. We met by chance. We talked about work. He was kind to me.”

“And you enjoyed it.”

The words came out quieter than I expected.

I studied his face.

“Is that a problem?”

He looked away.

“No.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

His silence lasted long enough to make me uncomfortable.

Finally, he spoke.

“I don't like seeing another man make you forget where you are.”

I frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you are living in a dangerous situation. You seem to forget that sometimes.”

“Or maybe I just want to feel normal for an hour.”

His eyes returned to mine.

“You think I don't understand that?”

“I think you don't care.”

Something flashed across his face.

“Don't make that assumption.”

“Then give me a reason not to.”

He moved toward the window. Outside, the evening sky was turning grey, and the garden lights had begun to glow.

“I've spent fifteen years watching people disappear from my life,” he said.

I went still.

“Evelyn?”

He nodded.

“People I trusted. People I thought I could protect. Every time I let someone get close, I find another reason to regret it.”

His voice remained controlled, but his shoulders were tense.

I didn't know what to say.

“I'm not Evelyn,” I whispered.

“I know.”

“And I'm not someone you can keep in this house because you're afraid of losing another person.”

He turned toward me.

“I never said that was what I wanted.”

“Then what do you want?”

He stared at me for a long moment.

“I want you to stop putting yourself in situations where I might not be able to protect you.”

“That sounds like another rule.”

“Call it whatever you like.”

I shook my head.

“You can't expect me to live by your fears.”

He took a step closer.

“Do you think I brought you here because I enjoy having someone under my roof?”

“I honestly don't know why you brought me here anymore.”

His expression darkened.

“You have your family protected. Your mother's treatment is being paid for. Daniel can finish school without worrying about money. You have the chance to study.”

“I know what you've done. I haven't forgotten.”

“Then stop acting as though I have given you nothing.”

“I never said you gave me nothing. But I won't spend the rest of my life pretending that everything you do is kindness.”

He looked at me, and for once, I couldn't read what was happening behind his eyes.

“I don't want you to mistake this for love,” he said.

I gave a small, tired smile.

“Don't worry. I won't.”

His gaze dropped briefly to my face.

“But I don't want you getting close to someone simply because he offers you an easier way out.”

I frowned.

“Why does that bother you?”

He didn't answer.

Then he asked a question so unexpected that I forgot what I had been about to say.

“If another man offered you a better life, Amelia, would you leave?”

I stared at him.

He stood perfectly still, but his eyes had lost some of their usual coldness.

For the first time, his question didn't sound like an order.

It sounded like fear.

And I suddenly wondered whether Alexander Blackwood was more afraid of losing me than he was willing to admit.