CHAPTER 22: The Morning After Truth

I woke up wrapped in Alexander's arms.

For a moment, I just lay there, listening to his heartbeat. Strong. Steady. Real.

Last night had changed everything.

Not the confrontation with James. Not the shouting or the threats.

The confession.

I'm falling in love with you.

I'm already there.

"You're thinking too loud," Alexander murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"I was already awake. Watching you sleep." He pressed a kiss to my hair. "Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Telling me you love me."

I turned to face him. His hair was messy, his eyes soft in the morning light. He looked younger. Vulnerable.

"No," I said honestly. "I regret the timing. The circumstances. The chaos. But not the feeling."

His smile was relief mixed with wonder. "Good. Because I meant what I said too."

"You're in love with me."

"Completely. Terrifyingly. Inconveniently in love with you."

I laughed. "Inconveniently?"

"Well, it would be more convenient if you weren't pregnant with my child, engaged to me under duress, and hated by my entire family."

"When you put it that way..."

"But I don't care." He cupped my face. "I'd take you with all the inconvenience over a lifetime of convenient loneliness."

My heart melted. "You're surprisingly romantic for a corporate CEO."

"Only for you." He kissed me softly. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Pickles and ice cream?"

He laughed. "Really? Already with the cravings?"

"No, I'm kidding. Toast would be good. My stomach's still queasy in the mornings."

"I'll make it. You stay here."

As he got up, I grabbed his hand. "Alexander?"

"Yes?"

"What are we going to do about James?"

His expression darkened. "What do you mean?"

"He said 'this isn't over.' He threatened us. He's not going to just accept being fired and walk away."

Alexander sat back down on the bed. "I know. But I won't let him hurt you."

"It's not just me I'm worried about. He's your son. This is destroying your relationship with him."

"He's destroying it himself."

"But what if we're making it worse? What if—"

"Bella." He took both my hands. "I need you to understand something. James is an adult. He makes his own choices. I can't control him, and I can't fix him. All I can do is protect you and our baby."

"But he's family."

"So are you. You're going to be my wife. The mother of my child. That makes you family too."

Wife. The word still felt surreal.

"Have you thought about the wedding?" I asked. "When, where, how..."

"I was thinking small. Private. Just us and a few close friends."

"No big society wedding?"

"God, no." He shuddered. "Catherine would turn it into a circus. Three hundred guests, ice sculptures, a twelve-tier cake. No thank you."

I smiled. "What about Victoria? Would she come?"

"I'll ask her. She's been... neutral so far. Which for Victoria is practically enthusiastic support."

"And your mother?"

His jaw tightened. "I'll extend the invitation. If she chooses not to come, that's her decision."

"Alexander, I don't want to be the reason you lose your family."

"You're not. They're choosing to lose me by not accepting you."

Before I could respond, his phone rang.

Marcus.

"It's seven in the morning," Alexander muttered, answering. "This better be important."

I watched his face change. Confusion. Anger. Shock.

"What?" he said sharply. "When? ... How much? ... Jesus Christ."

He hung up, looking pale.

"What happened?"

"James." Alexander's voice was tight. "He sold his story to the press. An exclusive tell-all interview with Vanity Fair. Going to print next week."

My stomach dropped. "What kind of story?"

"Everything. The affair, the pregnancy, the firing. His version of events." Alexander ran a hand through his hair. "Marcus says the advance quotes are brutal. James is painting himself as the victim of parental betrayal and you as a calculating gold-digger who seduced me for money."

"Oh my God."

"There's more. He's claiming the baby might not be mine. That you were sleeping with multiple men and chose me because I'm the richest."

I felt like I'd been slapped. "That's a lie. You know that's a lie."

"I know. But the public doesn't know. And once this article runs..." He looked at me, worried. "Bella, this is going to get ugly. Paparazzi. Reporters. People dissecting your entire past."

"Can we stop it? Sue them?"

"It's Vanity Fair. Their lawyers are better than ours. And suing would just make us look guilty. The Streisand Effect."

I stood up, pacing. "So we just let him destroy my reputation? Let him tell lies about our baby?"

"No." Alexander's voice turned hard. "We fight back. But strategically."

"How?"

"We give our own interview. To someone reputable. We tell our side of the story first."

"Who would believe us over him?"

"People who matter. And we have proof—medical records, the timeline, witnesses who can verify James's behavior." He pulled me close. "We're not helpless, Bella. We have the truth on our side."

"The truth doesn't always win."

"Maybe not. But I'd rather lose with the truth than win with lies."

His phone buzzed again. A text.

From James.

"Enjoy the article, Dad. You wanted a war. You got one."

Alexander showed it to me, his expression grim.

"He's really doing this," I whispered. "He's really going to destroy us publicly."

"He's going to try." Alexander pulled me into his arms. "But we're not going down without a fight."

I pressed my face against his chest, feeling tears threaten.

Twenty-four hours ago, I'd been worried about morning sickness and wedding planning.

Now I was preparing for character assassination in a national magazine.

"I'm scared," I admitted.

"Me too." He kissed the top of my head. "But we'll get through this. Together."

Together.

That word was becoming our lifeline.

As long as we had each other, maybe we could survive whatever James threw at us.

But as I thought about the upcoming article, the lies that would be printed, the judgment that would follow...

I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.

The real battle hadn't even started yet.