Chapter 6: The matriarch

The interior of the armored SUV was incredibly quiet. The thick, bulletproof glass completely blocked out the sound of the pouring rain and the chaotic city traffic.

The General picked me up from my home by 8;am to go see his grandmother

I sat rigidly in the backseat, clutching my damp jacket. General Alexander Reeves sat exactly two feet away from me.

He took up so much space. He wasn't doing it on purpose, but his broad shoulders and the sheer, dominating energy rolling off him made the spacious backseat feel like a tiny, suffocating box.

I swallowed hard. We were heading to his grandmother's estate. I needed to know what I was walking into. I needed to be brave. I was twenty-two, a nursing student, and about to pretend to be the fiancée of the most terrifying man in the country.

I squared my shoulders, gripping my knees. "G-General?"

He didn't look at me. His eyes remained fixed on the secure military tablet in his lap. "Alexander."

I blinked. "What?"

"If we are engaged, you will call me Alexander," he stated bluntly, swiping a finger across his screen.

"Right. Alexander," I tried again, my voice shaking slightly. "I just... I have a few questions about your grandmother's estate. If I'm going to meet her, I should probably know what to—"

Alexander turned his head.

His glacial, storm-gray eyes locked entirely onto mine. The intense, unyielding focus in his gaze instantly paralyzed my vocal cords. All the brave questions I had lined up in my head completely evaporated into thin air.

"What to... what to..." I stammered, my cheeks burning with a fierce, humiliated blush. I looked down at my shoes, my courage completely crumbling. "Never mind. It’s fine."

"Eleanor is sharp. But she is kind," Alexander said, his deep voice rumbling in the quiet car. "Just speak honestly."

"I am a terrible liar," I admitted miserably.

"I know," he replied. "That is why you will let me do the talking."

Before I could panic over that, the SUV slowed down. We passed through a set of heavy iron gates. The vehicle pulled up a sweeping, tree-lined driveway and came to a smooth stop in front of a grand, beautiful, classical mansion.

It was elegant and warm—completely different from the dark, imposing military fortress I had imagined Alexander living in. But of course, this wasn't his house. It was hers.

Colonel Brooks opened my door. I stepped out, my silver heels clicking against the wet pavement as Alexander escorted me up the wide stone steps.

The heavy oak doors were already open.

Standing in the center of the grand, brightly lit marble foyer was a woman who radiated an effortless, cheerful elegance.

Grandmother Eleanor Reeves.

She wore a pristine emerald-green suit, her silver hair perfectly styled, and a string of delicate pearls rested against her collarbone. She had a warm, deeply kind face. When her bright eyes landed on us, her entire expression lit up with absolute delight.

Alexander stepped forward. The terrifying Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces—the man who made entire rooms of politicians freeze in terror—bowed his head slightly.

He took Eleanor’s hand and pressed a gentle, deeply respectful kiss to her knuckles.

His face remained completely stoic, completely devoid of flowery emotion, but the silent, reverent action spoke volumes. He loved this woman deeply.

"Grandmother," Alexander greeted, his deep voice carrying a quiet respect.

"Oh, finally!" Eleanor beamed, her voice cheerful and melodious. "You bring a girl to my home!"

Alexander straightened his towering frame. He turned slightly, gesturing to me. "This is Grace Zane. My fiancée."

Eleanor gasped, her hands flying to her cheeks in pure, joyful shock. "Fiancée?! You leave this house a bachelor, and you return hours later engaged to Daniel’s sweet daughter?"

"Yes." Alexander offered absolutely no further explanation.

Eleanor stared at his stoic face, then let out a delighted, musical laugh.

"Well," Eleanor said, stepping forward with a bright, welcoming smile. "It is about time! Come inside, Grace, darling. You look like you've been standing in a hurricane, you poor thing!"

Before I could move, Ethan stepped into the foyer, holding out a ringing encrypted phone. "General. The hospital administrator needs your immediate verbal authorization for Mr. Zane's surgical team."

My heart jumped. My dad.

Alexander looked at the phone, then down at me. "I have to take this. Go with Eleanor. Sit down."

"I..." I panicked, looking between his massive, imposing figure and the cheerful matriarch.

Alexander looked at his grandmother. "Do not overwhelm her, Grandmother."

"Oh, hush, Alexander," Eleanor waved him off with a graceful flutter of her hand. She was probably the only person on the entire planet who didn't fear him. "Go do your military business. I am perfectly capable of entertaining my beautiful future granddaughter-in-law."

Alexander gave me one last, piercing look before turning on his heel and following Ethan down the hallway.

I was left alone with Eleanor.

She gently linked her arm through mine, her touch incredibly soft and comforting. She led me into a massive, beautiful drawing room with a roaring fireplace and gestured for me to sit on a plush velvet sofa. A silent maid immediately poured us two cups of hot tea.

"Drink, darling," Eleanor offered with a warm, encouraging smile. "You are shaking."

I took the delicate teacup with both hands, the warmth seeping into my frozen fingers. "Thank you, Mrs. Reeves."

"Eleanor or Grandmother please," she corrected gently, taking a seat opposite me. Her kind eyes studied my pale face, the tear stains still faintly visible on my cheeks. "Your father is in the hospital. Alexander told me."

"Yes," I whispered, staring down at my tea. "A... a military grant covered his transfer to the VIP wing. It’s a miracle. He needs surgery."

Eleanor’s eyes sparkled with a deep, knowing warmth, though she didn't correct my assumption about the grant. "He is in the absolute best hands now, Grace."

She set her cup down and leaned forward, offering me a look of pure, grandmotherly empathy.

"You are absolutely terrified, aren't you, sweetheart?"

I flinched, almost spilling my tea. "I..."

"It is perfectly alright to admit it," Eleanor soothed, her voice like a warm blanket. "My grandson is not exactly a cuddly teddy bear. He commands armies. When he walks into a room, grown men forget how to breathe."

I looked down. "He is very intimidating."

"He is," Eleanor agreed softly. "But he has a good heart, Grace."

I looked up at her, my shyness battling my curiosity.

"Alexander does not know how to use words," Eleanor explained gracefully, her eyes softening with deep affection. "His entire life has been built on discipline, duty, and survival. He doesn't know how to comfort people with flowery speeches or sweet nothings."

She smiled, a proud, tender expression crossing her elegant features.

"But he brought you here," she said cheerfully. "Alexander only speaks through his actions, Grace. The fact that he claimed you as his fiancée means he will move mountains to ensure you are safe and happy."

I swallowed a massive lump in my throat. I knew it was a fake contract. I knew he was only doing it for her. But hearing her describe his protective nature so beautifully... it made my chest ache in a completely unexpected way.

"I'm just..." I admitted shyly, my voice trembling. "I'm scared I won't be a good wife to a man like him. I'm just a nursing student . I get anxious. We are complete opposites."

"Oh, darling, exactly!" Eleanor clapped her hands together lightly, looking absolutely thrilled. "That is exactly what he needs! He has lived in such a dark, serious world for thirty-two years. He needs your sunshine. He needs your softness."

She smiled warmly at me, her eyes twinkling with cheerful excitement.

"You will balance him perfectly, Grace. Which is wonderful news, because I am so incredibly excited for the next step!"

I blinked, thoroughly confused. "The next step?"

Eleanor took a delicate sip of her tea. "I simply cannot wait for great-grandchildren to be running through my hallways as soon as humanly possible."

I inhaled a massive lungful of hot tea.

I violently choked, coughing into my hand, my eyes watering as my face instantly turned the color of a crushed tomato.

"G-Great-grandchildren?!" I wheezed, my entire body burning with a sudden, full-body panic.

"Of course," Eleanor said cheerfully, entirely unbothered by my near-death experience. "At least two. A boy and a girl would be lovely, but I am certainly not picky."

Before I could even attempt to form a coherent, highly defensive response about *separate bedrooms*heavy footsteps echoed in the doorway.

Alexander walked back into the drawing room.

He stopped instantly, his gray eyes snapping from Eleanor to my violently red, coughing face.

His sharp jaw locked. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing, dear," Eleanor smiled innocently, picking up her teacup. "Just simple girl talk."

Alexander looked at me, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed my complete, panicked meltdown.

"Your father's surgical team is ready," Alexander stated bluntly, though his piercing eyes never left my flushed face. "Be Ready,we are going to the hospital, Richard will join us."

I nodded frantically,standing up to gather my things and desperate to change the subject away from babies. "Yes. Thank you. Alexander."

He gave a single nod, but as he looked between me and his highly amused grandmother, I knew he didn't trust either of us for a single second.