Five- He said he loves her.

Alessandra's POV

I knew I was crazy. Better yet, a coward. But not to this extent. It was eleven in the morning and I hadn’t left the room. Not even once.

What if he changed his mind?

What if he decided I was too much trouble, too many questions, too close to whatever secrets he was hiding? What if Killian—cold, unreadable, practically sculpted from violence—just walked in and finished what he almost started?

What if he needed help with his stitches?

Oh god.

Why did he even take his shirt off yesterday? Who told him to do that? How could a person even look like that? And why the hell was that what I was focusing on?

Snap out of it.

That’s your fiancé’s best friend. Thinking like that will get you killed.

My phone buzzed on the table and I lunged for it, almost too desperate for the distraction.

Jeremy’s Mother

Hi, dear. I can’t wait to see you. I was going to send a car to come get you so you can get ready here… but Jeremy opted to do it himself. I’ll see you soon.

– Lia Salvatore

I exhaled, slow. Jeremy was coming.

Right. Of course.

I moved on autopilot, tugging on a white baggy top and some blue shorts. Sneakers, too. Casual. Easy. What? It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone.

The hallway was quiet—eerily so. I crept out, half expecting to find blood still pooled on the tiles, broken glass littering the floor. But no. Not a trace. The shattered mirror was gone. The ruined lamp? Replaced. The coppery tang of blood? Vanished.

The devil was fast… but apparently, Killian was faster.

In the kitchen, everything looked like it had never been touched. Like there hadn’t been a body in the living room. Like there hadn’t been a gun pressed to my head less than twelve hours ago.

I moved straight for the top cupboard, where I’d seen the cereal tucked away yesterday. I stretched, my fingers just grazing the edge of the box.

Almost.

God, why is everything built for giants?

I pushed up on my toes, arms straining—and then I froze.

Hands settled on my waist.

Heat flooded through me, low and slow, like it was curling under my skin. I was fully clothed, but it didn’t matter. My body knew his touch.

My hand hovered, frozen in the air.

His scent wrapped around me again—leather, spice, something metallic and heady—and his body was right there. Close. Too close. I could feel him behind me, the heat of him, the weight of his presence sinking into me like gravity.

His hand ghosted up my arm. My breath caught.

He plucked the cereal box from the shelf with a maddening ease and placed it in front of me on the counter—then caged me in with one hand planted beside mine. He took a deep breath before his voice brushed my ear.

“Lavender,” he said, the word soft, amused. Mocking.

My breath hitched.

“Alessandra,” he murmured, “how do you feel this morning?”

My throat worked. Words scrambled, tangled.

“Hot,” I whispered, before I could stop myself.

His low chuckle vibrated against my spine.

“That you are,” he said, voice slow, amused. “But then again—”

His hand spun me around so fast, my heart jumped into my throat. And his eyes pinned me in place.

“Tell anyone what happened here yesterday,” he said, “and you’ll keep talking about it... without the benefit of a spleen.”

His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t have to be. It was calm. Controlled. Deadly.

His breath fanned across my cheek.

He was still damp from the shower. Hair pushed back, drops of water still clinging to the edge of his brow. His tattoos peeked from beneath a loose black shirt like they were watching me, too.

I should’ve stepped back.

I didn’t.

I was 5’2 and he was easily 6’5. He could break me in half. He almost did.

But I didn’t move.

Because I wasn’t sure if I was terrified of him... or addicted to the quiet way he looked at me, like he could see every broken part and still didn’t care.

But then—

“Oh thank God she’s not dead.”

Jeremy’s voice cracked the air like a whip.

I flinched.

He stood in the doorway, disheveled, eyes wide with exaggerated relief. “Come on, Xander, we’re late.”

I blinked. “My name is Alessandra.”

“And my name is Elizabeth,” he shot back, rolling his eyes.

I turned—Killian had already moved to the far end of the kitchen like he hadn’t just threatened to rip out my spleen.

"Be at dinner,” Jeremy warned, pointing at him. “Or I’ll find you in the next country and kill your ass.”

He tugged me along without waiting for a reply, his hand wrapping around mine like nothing was wrong. Like I hadn’t just stood there, rooted, trembling, wanting to run and wanting to stay in equal measure.

And behind me?

Killian just watched.

Unmoved.

Unapologetic.

~~~~~~

“Thank you,” I whispered to the woman kneeling in front of me, securing the final strap of my heels.

They said it was just dinner.

But I’ve seen fewer cars at a royal wedding.

Through the window, a prade of luxury vehicles continued pulling into the driveway, engines purring like well-fed beasts. Everyone who mattered in this twisted world was apparently going to be at this table tonight.

The door opened behind me.

“Oh my word, you look amazing, Alessandra,” Lia said as she swept into the room, her presence always something between warmth and calculation. Jeremy trailed behind her, looking freshly pressed and polished—his blonde hair styled to effortless perfection, the navy suit tailored within an inch of its life.

I had to admit it. He looked good, He cleans up nice

“Jeremy, what do you think?” Lia nudged him gently, her voice light. But he was Just—staring.

Like he hadn’t expected me to clean up into someone worth looking at. Like he didn’t recognize me.

“Jer?” she asked again, her smile curling when she realized he hadn’t blinked.

“Amazing,” he said finally, stepping forward to kiss my cheek. His breath was warm against my ear as he leaned in. “You look amazing.”

Then, lower—just for me:

“Don’t get too touched, Xander.”

Xander. Right. He definitely knows that’s not my name.

I smiled anyway, Can't afford slip ups, my father is here somewhere.

“I know an arranged marriage might not be the best thing in the world,” Lia began, her voice suddenly gentle, almost wistful. “But I had one. And today, my husband means the world to me.”

Her eyes lit up, soft and golden, that same dreamy glow she always seemed to get when his name came up.

“Thank you, we'll try our best .” I managed.

“Whatever, Mum,” Jeremy groaned, kissing her cheek with a teasing grin. “You just like bragging about Dad. We get it.”

Lia Chuckled .

“I gotta run. Kill just arrived,” Jeremy said.

Lia’s smile faltered. Her hand twitched by her side, like she'd almost reached for something she wasn’t supposed to want.

Jeremy turned to me, “See you downstairs in thirty, Alessandra.”

He held my gaze a second longer than necessary before slipping out.

And then it was just me and Lia.

“Lia?” I asked when she didn’t move, didn’t blink. She looked lost, like her mind had already left the room.

I stepped closer and gently tapped her elbow.

She blinked back to life.

“You look amazing, honey,” she said, her voice a little too bright, a little too quick. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. It can be a bit… tense. Just a warning.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

And then she was gone, floating out of the room like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just turned into a ghost before my eyes.

I stood in front of the mirror for a while after the rest of the crew came in to finish the final touches. Lipstick. A spritz of perfume. A diamond necklace that weighed a lot.

Once they left, I slipped out.

The halls were quiet, lined with art. I wasn’t sure where I was going, only that I needed to breathe. To walk. To exist outside of the boxes people kept trying to put me in—fiancée, daughter, guest, pawn.

I slowed when I passed one of the guest rooms.

Voices.

Familiar.

“I thought you were never coming back,” a woman said.

Lia?

I stepped back on instinct, my body flattening to the wall. The door was open—just slightly—but enough for me to see inside. My heart dropped.

Lia was there. Her hands pressed against Killian’s chest.

And Killian...

He didn’t move. Didn’t even look surprised. He just stood there, still and unreadable, like this was normal.

“I missed you so much,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. Ache. Desperation. It clung to her like perfume.

Killian didn’t respond. His face was carved from stone, eyes flat and cold.

“What, I don’t get a kiss?” she asked, her voice light but shaky. Trying to joke.

He bent toward her slowly.

That was enough.

I turned. I couldn’t watch that. I wouldn’t. My stomach turned as I started to walk away, legs stiff, steps too quiet.

But then I heard her say it.

“I love you.”

My heart stopped.

I froze halfway down the corridor.

She loved him?

She—

And then, like a curse, his voice reached me. That same voice that had wrapped around my neck like silk yesterday.

“I love you …”