Chapter 5

ALEX

THE PREVIOUS NIGHT

After leaving the party with Natasha, I drove straight to her apartment complex. On the way, Natasha kept trying to make conversation but I merely nodded here and there without engaging.

My mind wasn’t on her. Hell, it wasn’t even in that car. It was back at the party. On Emma. On the look in her eyes when she saw me with Natasha.

She’d looked... wrecked.

Tightness settled in my chest. I knew what I did was for the best, but I still can't get rid of this feeling.

I pulled up in front of Natasha’s apartment complex and parked.

“Thanks for tonight.” I finally spoke for the first time since leaving the party. “I owe you.”

Natasha shrugged, her glossy lips curling into a faint smile. “No need to thank me, Alex. How many women can say they got the chance to pretend to be the fiancé of Alexander Miller?”

“I might need you to do it again,” I said, avoiding her eyes.

She gave a small laugh. “Sure. I'm always at your service, handsome.” She paused and gave me a look. “But I must admit Emma seems like a sweet little thing. Are you really sure you want her gone?”

I looked away from her, staring out the windshield. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“No problem.” Her smile widened. “I don’t want to talk either.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt and slid over to my side of the car. Before I could react, she climbed into my lap, her arms circling my neck as her lips found the skin just below my jaw.

“Let me take that stress away,” she whispered.

I let her have her way for a moment. Her perfume was strong. Her touch was familiar. But it wasn’t her face I saw when I closed my eyes.

It was Emma's.

God, I was drugged and out of it when it happened but I swear my body seems to remember every second of what happened between us. Her petite touch, her lips on mine...

I opened my eyes and gently pushed Natasha back. “Stop.”

She didn’t move away. Instead, she leaned closer, her fingers stroking the side of my face.

“You know,” she said softly, “I know I was only pretending to be your fiancée tonight, but it kinda felt like a dream come true. Everyone loved me. Your parents were so happy.

I didn’t answer, wondering where she was going with this.

“I wouldn’t mind being your real fiancée, you know.” She kissed my neck again. “I could be good for you.”

That snapped something inside me.

I grabbed her by the waist and moved her off me. “Don’t get any ideas, Natasha. The only thing between us is that we fulfill each other's physical needs. I have no interest in making you a fiancée or any other woman for that matter.”

Her smile faltered, and for a second, she looked almost hurt. But then she scoffed and leaned back in her seat. “Relax, Alex. I was only joking.”

Yeah. Sure, she was.

She opened the door and stepped out, but not before tossing one last look at me. “I’m always here when you need to get your rocks off,” she muttered before slamming the door shut.

I didn’t watch her go inside. I just drove.

The silence in the car felt thicker than before, so I turned on the radio. A RnB song was playing, but it was too slow for the storm in my head. I needed something to distract my mind. I changed the station. Then again. It was useless.

By the time I got home and stepped into my penthouse, my jaw was tight from clenching, and my mind was still a mess. I went straight to the liquor cabinet, grabbed the nearest bottle of whiskey, and poured myself a drink.

The burn felt good. It gave me something else to focus on.

I walked over to the window and stared out at the city lights, but it didn't take long for thoughts of Emma to start rushing in.

How the hell did it get this far?

I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve stopped it.

I always knew Emma had a crush on me even before she asked me to be her boyfriend when she was sixteen. God, she’d even sent a text to one of my exes trying to scare her off.

Instead of confronting, I chose to ignore it, telling myself that she was a kid and she would grow out of it once she started dating.

She didn’t.

I should've stopped it. I should've put some distance between us the moment I noticed her crush on me. I should have done something to discourage those feelings.

Maybe, if I had done that, then what happened two nights ago would've never happened.

When did she go from that innocent kid who followed me around and always ran to hug me to this woman who was capable of such shameful tactics?

Downing another generous gulp of whiskey, I set the bottle and the glass on the centerpiece and made my way to my bedroom.

As soon as I entered, my throat tightened when I looked at the bed.

Even though I'd changed the bedsheets, I could still see it in my mind; the evidence of her virginity.

I saw the blood after she left. That had hit me harder than anything else. The realisation that I was the first man she had given herself to had filled me with so much guilt that I could barely breathe.

Until I found out later that she'd paid that waiter to tamper with my drink.

I refused to allow myself to be manipulated by her or any other woman. Never again.

The only woman I'd completely given my heart to years ago, Hillary Chelsea, had completely shattered it when I found out that she had been sleeping with someone else and they had been using me to get as much money out of me as they could.

No. I wasn’t doing that again.

I couldn’t let another woman mess with my head. Not even Emma.

That was why I wanted her to stay away from me. It was better this way for the both of us.

༺❀༻༺❀༻༺❀༻

I slammed the folder onto my secretary's desk a little too hard. The sharp sound made her flinch.

“This is the wrong contract,” I snapped, my tone harsher than I intended. “We were supposed to send the revised one to Carter & Rowe this morning. This one’s missing the whole Section D amendment. What were you even doing?”

“I...I’m sorry, Mr. Kingston,” Ava stammered, looking down quickly as her fingers fumbled with the edge of her tablet. “I thought...I mean, I double-checked—”

“Clearly not well enough,” I cut in sharply.

She bit her lip, eyes glistening with tears. Shit. I sighed, instantly regretting the way I spoke.

“Look… I’m sorry,” I muttered, running a hand down my face. “I didn’t mean to come down that hard. It’s been a long morning. Please just fix it and send it out.”

She nodded quickly and whispered, “Yes, sir ”

I turned and walked back into my office, Dropping into my chair, I leaned back and dragged both hands through my hair. I was on edge, and it wasn’t because of work. Everything felt off.

Everything had felt off since the last time I saw Emma.

The door swung open without a knock.

“You know,” A familiar voice said, “for a guy who owns a billion-dollar company, you’re acting like a man who just lost his cat.”

It was Anthony Ramsey. My best friend. Pain in my ass. But savior when I need him.

He waltzed in like he owned the place, flopped on the couch, and grinned. “I heard you out there yelling at your poor secretary. Dude, what the hell’s going on with you? I know you're Mr. Moody, but you're not like that.”

“I didn't hell at her,” I muttered, eyes closed, trying to will him away. “And nothing is going on with me.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p.’ “Try again. I’m not buying that crap.”

I sighed and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my desk.

Four days.

It had been four damn days since Emma’s birthday. Since I told her to stay away from me.

And she had done exactly that.

No texts. No calls. No surprise visits. No sending me ridiculous memes or daily I*******m reels that never failed to make me laugh.

Nothing.

It was exactly what I had wanted.

So why did I feel like absolute shit?

Tony leaned forward, his eyes serious now. “Alex. Talk to me, man. You haven't been yourself. I noticed two days ago when we met up at the club.”

I looked at him, hesitating. I didn't feel like sharing what happened between Emma and I. But I had been keeping it all to myself and it was messing me up. Maybe if I talked to someone about it, it would help me ease my mind.

So I told him. By the time I was done, Tony was staring at me with mouth agape. 

“Aren't you going to say anything?” I questioned, irritated by his silence.

He finally snapped out of it and spoke. “Let's see. So you slept with Emma, and afterwards, you accused her of drugging and taking advantage of you."

I glared at him. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?” he shot back. “Like you completely lost your damn mind? Because that’s how it sounds right now!”

I stood up and paced. “Didn't you hear everything I told you? She paid a waiter to drug me!”

“Says who? Some random waiter you don’t even know?”

“You talk as if I just believed everything he told me,” I growled. “I didn't. In fact, I refused to believe it. And then he showed me the bracelet she gave to him as payment. The bracelet I bought for her.”

Tony frowned. “What did Emma say?”

“She said it must’ve fallen off her wrists.”

“And what if she was telling you the truth?”

I looked at him and braked out a humourless chuckle. “Yeah, so it fell off and randomly ended up with the waiter who served and drugged my drink? Come on, Tony.”

Tony pursed his lips, a thoughtful look on his face. “Look, I don’t know her like you do. But I’ve heard you talk about her. For years. I remember when you used to say she was the purest person you knew.”

My throat tightened.

“I know what Hillary did to you has made you mistrustful of every woman, but not every woman is like her. But I'm not saying that Emma is a saint. Maybe she truly was a snake under grass all this time. But what if you're wrong? Are you completely sure what the waiter told you was true?”

I opened my mouth to say yes, but the image of Emma's face on the night of her birthday played in my mind. Broken, tears streaming down her face, devastated.

I told myself that she was trying to manipulate me with her tears, but what if I'd been wrong?

What if she was truly innocent?