Chapter 7: Father's Blessing

The VIP Cardiology Wing of the Central Military Hospital did not look, smell, or feel like a hospital.

There were no chaotic waiting rooms. No shouting doctors. No flickering fluorescent lights. The floors were polished marble, the air smelled faintly of cedar and expensive antiseptic, and highly trained military guards stood at attention at the end of every corridor.

When the elevator doors slid open, every single guard immediately snapped a razor-sharp salute.

"General," they echoed in unison.

Alexander didn't break his stride. He gave a single, curt nod, walking beside me with his hands clasped behind his back.

I stuck close to his side, feeling entirely out of place in my wrinkled jeans and oversized sweater. I hadn't slept. I hadn't eaten. My entire body was running on pure adrenaline and the desperate need to see my father.

Alexander stopped outside Suite 1. He didn't knock. He just pushed the heavy oak door open and stepped aside to let me enter.

My breath caught in my throat.

My dad was lying in a state-of-the-art mechanical bed. He was hooked up to high-tech monitors, but his skin had regained a fraction of its color, and he was awake.

Sitting in a leather chair beside the bed was a man who looked like an older, slightly more approachable version of the terrifying warlord standing next to me.

Retired General Richard Reeves.

"Dad!" I choked out, rushing past the monitors and gently grabbing his hand.

"Gracie," Dad whispered, a weak but genuine smile crossing his tired face. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I'm okay."

Tears spilled over my lashes. "The doctor said the grant covered everything. They said your surgery is scheduled for tonight."

"I know," Dad squeezed my fingers, his eyes gleaming with profound relief. "It is a miracle, Grace. An absolute miracle."

I wiped my eyes, completely oblivious to the silent, knowing look that passed between Richard Reeves and Alexander at the mention of the "grant."

Richard stood up from his chair. He was incredibly imposing, carrying the heavy authority of a man who had spent decades commanding troops, but when he looked at me, his eyes crinkled with a warm, grandfatherly affection.

"Grace," Richard said, his voice deep and gravelly like his son’s. "How are doing”

“Am fine,thank you” I answered shyly

I have met him briefly few times when he would come to visit dad

Richard turned his gaze to Alexander, who was standing like an immovable shadow by the door.

Alexander met his father’s eyes.. Alexander feared absolutely no one, but the rigid shift in his posture showed a deep, ingrained respect for the man who raised him.

"Alexander," Richard said seriously. "I trust you have explained the arrangement to Grace?"

"I have," Alexander answered bluntly.

"Good." Richard looked back at me. "Grace, I know this is sudden. But my mother, Eleanor, is fragile. She needs to see Alexander settled, and Daniel needs to know you are safe. If you agree to this marriage, you become a Reeves. You fall under our absolute protection. But it is your choice."

I looked at my dad. His monitors were beeping steadily. He wasn't stressed. He wasn't panicking about medical debt. For the first time in a year, he looked like he could finally breathe.

I took a deep breath, my shyness giving way to steel.

"I agree," I said firmly.

Dad let out a long, shaky exhale, closing his eyes in pure relief.

"Excellent," Richard smiled, clapping his hands together once. "I will have my legeal team draft the preliminary paperwork today. Alexander, you will handle the specifics."

"I will," Alexander stated.

"Wait," I interjected nervously, looking at the giant man by the door. "Specifics? What specifics?"

Alexander finally stepped away from the door, closing the distance between us. His massive presence instantly made my heart race.

"The formal contract," Alexander said, looking down at me. "My father and your father gave their blessing. But the rules of our household—our personal boundaries, our living arrangements, and the terms of our privacy—will be decided strictly between you and me."

I swallowed hard. "Just us?"

"Yes." His gray eyes locked onto mine. "We will meet privately later this week to negotiate and sign the final contract. No one else will be in the room."

The thought of sitting completely alone with him to negotiate the rules of our marriage made my stomach do a wild, terrified flip.

Suddenly, the room tilted slightly.

Oh no

A wave of dizziness washed over me, blurring the edges of my vision. My knees wobbled, and I instinctively reached out to grab the edge of my dad's bed to steady myself.

I never touched the bed.

Before my dad could even gasp, Alexander was there.

His reflexes were terrifyingly fast. A massive, incredibly warm hand clamped securely around my waist, while his other hand gripped my elbow, effortlessly holding me upright.

"Whoa," I breathed, my head spinning.

"You are shaking," Alexander said. His voice wasn't loud, but it was laced with a sharp, commanding edge. He looked at my pale face, his eyes narrowing. "When was the last time you ate, Grace?"

"I..." I stammered, completely distracted by the heat radiating from his hand on my waist. "Yesterday? At the restaurant. Before my dad collapsed."

Alexander’s jaw locked into a hard, uncompromising line. He didn't ask if I wanted food. He didn't offer to take me to the cafeteria.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his encrypted comms radio.

"Brooks," Alexander barked into the device.

*"Sir?"* Ethan’s voice crackled instantly.

"Bring a hot meal to Suite 1 immediately. High protein. Add a sweetened tea."

*"On it, General. Three minutes."*

Alexander clipped the radio back onto his belt. He didn't let go of my waist. Instead, he smoothly guided me toward the plush leather recliner Richard had just vacated and firmly pressed me down into it.

"You will eat," Alexander ordered softly, leaning over me, his face inches from mine. "You are of no use to your father if you collapse in his hospital room."

It was such a blunt, intensely military thing to say, but the absolute care behind the action made my cheeks burn fiercely. He wasn't yelling at me. He was making sure I survived.

"I'm fine, really," I whispered, avoiding his intense gaze.

"You will be, after you eat," he replied, straightening his towering frame.

My dad watched the entire exchange from his hospital bed. I saw a small, knowing smile touch his lips. Even Richard Reeves looked highly amused, though he wisely said nothing.

Alexander stood beside my chair like a lethal, unmoving sentry.

I was terrified of the contract. I was terrified of what Eleanor expected of us.

But as I looked up at the General silently guarding my chair, making sure I didn't faint... I realized that negotiating the rules of our marriage in a few days was going to be the most dangerous thing I had ever done.

Because keeping my heart out of the contract was going to be nearly impossible.