로그인The first time I met General Alexander Reeves, I thought he was exactly kind of man that every woman should run from I was right But not for the reason I thought. We weren't supposed to be a love story. He was a thirty two year old military commander with a reputation built on ice and military steel. I was a twenty two year old nursing student desperately trying to keep my sick father happy and alive. It first started with a date,then it quickly turned into a proposition One year Separate bedrooms No interference in each other's lives A marriage built entirely on duty and a five year friendship between our fathers It was the perfect contract, completely foolproof Except for one unwritten rule that neither of us paid attention to until it was too late *Don't fall in Love* Some hearts just refuses to follow orders
더 보기"If you puke on your shoes,you're officially on your own"I glared at the blunt words from mia on my screen
I was currently sitting alone in the ridiculously expensive restaurant,my knees bouncing so fast it was vibrating the table I picked up my phone “I am not going to puke,I think you should more scared that I might pass out” I typed Immediately the three dotted lines was visible on my screen indicating that mia was typing a response “Breathe G” “I am sitting at a bar, hiding behind an enormous arrangement of white lillies,Do not look at me,I am a fern” I swallowed a nervous laugh, typing back quickly. Grace-If he arrests me for being awkward, please feed my dad's fish. Mia-If he catches me spying, tell my mother I died doing what I love. You look stunning. Put the phone down. I smiled,mia was my bestfriend,the total opposite of me,she is lively,cheerful,BOLD Everything I was not She insisted on following me to the date to be my secret anchor of which I was grateful for because if I was alone, I would have turn back and run home before stepping my foot into this restaurant She is exactly what i need in times when i am overwhelmed with anxiety Times like now Because I was about to meet with the most feared,respected,youngest and honored General They say he can shut the mouth of reporters just with his stare They say he has never lost a mission he has embarked on A Four star General General Alexander Reeves I set my phone face-down on the pristine white tablecloth. 5:58 PM. My chest felt unusually tight. The deep blue silk dress Mia had forced me to buy hugged my ribs, making it slightly hard to breathe, though the sheer panic coursing through my veins wasn't helping either. *Why did I agree to this?* Because my father asked me to. Because his failing heart was a ticking clock, and his five-year friendship with Richard Reeves had convinced him that Richard's son was the only man capable of protecting me when he was gone. I have never met Richards son before He was hardly in the country The piano music in the restaurant was soft, a gentle hum over the clinking of expensive silverware. Then, exactly at 6:00 PM, the atmosphere violently shifted. I didn’t even look at the heavy glass doors, but I felt it. The low, polite chatter near the hostess stand simply vanished. A waiter walking past my table physically stuttered his step. The air in the room grew suddenly, terrifyingly heavy. I slowly lifted my head. A tall man in a flawlessly tailored, charcoal-gray suit had just stepped into the dining room. He had no bodyguards. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. General Alexander Reeves. He was massive. Six-foot-four, with broad shoulders that seemed to block out the light. His dark hair was neatly combed, his jaw carved from unyielding granite. He scanned the restaurant exactly once. His glacial, storm-gray eyes locked directly onto my booth. He found me. My breath caught. I couldn't look away. He walked toward me with the calm, measured, lethal discipline of a man who commanded armies. Every movement was controlled. My body reacted on pure instinct as if it was designed to react to this particular pheromone(Pure Alpha pheromone). As he reached the table, I stood up, my silver heels scraping slightly against the marble floor.I hid my trembling hands under the table. God why am I reacting like this "Miss Zane," he said. His deep, gravelly voice vibrated straight through the air and directly into my chest. "G-General Reeves," I managed to say. My voice shook. I hated it, but I couldn't stop it. He didn't smile. His sharp eyes tracked the fierce blush spreading across my cheeks. Without a single word, Alexander stepped forward, reached past me, and gently pulled out my chair. I blinked, completely stunned. "Thank you," I whispered, sinking back down. He gave a short, rigid nod, walked to the opposite side of the booth, and took his seat. My phone vibrated violently against the tablecloth. I didn't have to turn it over to know it was Mia screaming from behind her lilies. A waiter approached our table. The poor man was standing entirely too stiffly, his hands visibly shaking as he held his notepad. "W-Would you like to order, sir?" the waiter squeaked. Alexander closed his menu. He hadn't even opened it. "I will have the grilled salmon," he stated bluntly. The waiter turned his panicked, wide eyes to me. I offered a soft, reassuring smile, trying to project the calm energy the waiter desperately needed. "I'll have the creamy mushroom pasta, please." "And bring a pot of chamomile tea," Alexander added. My head snapped up. *Chamomile tea?* The universal remedy for anxiety. "Right away, General," the waiter stammered, fleeing the table as if he had just escaped a war zone. Silence settled between us. Heavy. Intimidating. Alexander folded his large, calloused hands neatly on the table. He looked directly at me. It wasn't a judgment. It was pure, unfiltered observation. "I've heard a lot about you," I blurted out. Alexander slowly met my gaze. "I imagine most of what you heard wasn't flattering." A nervous, breathy laugh escaped my lips. "You're very honest." "I dislike pretending," he answered. Simple. Absolute. I twisted the fabric of my napkin under the table, my heart hammering. "My father speaks very highly of you. He and your father..." "Have been friends for five years. Yes," Alexander finished smoothly. "Richard speaks highly of Daniel as well." "Is that... is that why you agreed to meet me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I tried to maintain eye contact, trying so hard to be brave, but his storm-gray eyes were so intense, so piercing, that my courage instantly began to crumble. Alexander's gray eyes darkened slightly. "I do not do things simply because I am asked, Miss Zane." The words hung in the heavy air between us. I swallowed hard, immediately dropping my gaze to the pristine white tablecloth. My cheeks burned with a fierce, unmistakable blush. I felt entirely small under his commanding presence. "Then..." I stammered, my fingers trembling as I picked at my napkin. "Why did you come?" For the first time all evening, the rigid tension in his broad shoulders shifted just a fraction. He leaned forward slightly, his massive frame seeming to swallow all the oxygen in my immediate vicinity. "Because," Alexander said, his deep, gravelly voice dropping into a low register that sent a traitorous shiver straight down my spine. "I wanted to see if the reality matched the intelligence report."*Alexander’s POV*Her body went completely limp against my chest.The fight vanished from her limbs all at once, turning her into pure, fragile dead weight. Her forehead rested against the curve of my collarbone, her pale lips parted, her breathing shallow and ragged. I could feel her pain like it was mineMy hand moved instantly to the side of her throat. Her skin was clammy with cold sweat, but her carotid pulse beat beneath my fingertips,rapid, faint, and erratic from the sheer, violent shock to her nervous system. Her body had simply shut down to protect her from the pain. I did not hesitate, I slid my right arm beneath her knees and my left arm behind her shoulders, shifting my weight to stand. A jagged, blinding bolt of white-hot agony tore through my left ribs. Warm, heavy blood instantly flooded into the dark wool of my sweater. But I couldn't stopI rose from the cold hospital floor in one smooth, unyielding motion, pulling my wife tightly against my chest. Her head
*Grace’s POV*The heavy doors parted with a soft hiss.A group of medical staff walked out into the corridor. Dr. Keller,the man I recognized as the chief surgeon who was in charge of my father's treatment,led them, flanked by another doctor in dark scrubs and two nurses, their blue surgical caps still tied behind their heads. My breath stopped entirely. In every hospital I had ever trained in, the rule was unwritten but absolute: you never saw the entire resuscitation team step out together unless the monitor was already dark. Beside the wall, Richard did not move. He stood motionless, his head bent low toward the floor, successfully sinking my heart furtherDr. Keller took several slow, heavy steps toward us. His eyes were red-rimmed, carrying a look of deep, crushing exhaustion. The nurses stopped just behind him, their hands folded in front of their aprons, looking at me with a quiet, careful sympathy that made the ground beneath my boots feel paper-thin. They were lookin
*Grace’s POV*The words hung in the cold kitchen air like lead. *“He has already rushed him to the VIP medical unit.”*My breath hitched, catching in the center of my throat. My father had suffered blood pressure spikes before—that fragile cardiovascular system was the reason this entire marriage existed in the first place. But he had stabilized I knew he hadHe had spent nights in hospital beds before. He had always pulled through. *They caught it early,* I told myself fiercely, my mind latching onto every scrap of clinical logic I possessed. *He was at Richard’s estate. The response time was immediate.*"Grace." Alexander’s voice was low, cutting through the sudden static ringing in my ears. I looked down at my hands. My gloves were still stained with Alexander's blood. I ripped them off, tossed them into the waste bin, and turned on the faucet. I scrubbed the brown antiseptic and crimson from my skin with scalding water, watching the water swirl down the stainless steel d
*Grace’s POV*It was 2:14 in the morning, and sleep had never felt further away.It was not just the memory of the terrace keeping me awake. It was not just the ghost of Alexander’s mouth hovering an inch from mine, or the raw rasp of his voice when he snarled, *“Damn the contract.”*It was a cold, suffocating weight sitting directly over my lungs. A terrible, heavy intuition had settled into my gut the moment we left the gala,a dark, sinking dread that whispered something was going to happen. I stood barefoot on the cold tile of the fortress kitchen, wrapping both hands around a tall glass of ice water. The fortress was completely silent. The only illumination came from the amber glow beneath the range hood, casting long, sharp shadows across the white marble island. *Thud.*A dull, uneven impact rattled the reinforced steel door connecting the private motor pool to the kitchen corridor. I jumped, water sloshing over the rim of my glass. *Click. Whir.*The door swung inward,
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