seven

The jet's cabin was all cream leather and polished wood, luxury I still wasn't used to despite living in Alexander's world for weeks. I sat by the window, watching Seattle disappear beneath us, my phone clutched like a lifeline.

No updates from my father yet. The surgery was supposed to take six hours. We were only two hours into the flight.

"You should eat something." Alexander appeared with a plate of fruit and pastries. When I shook my head, he sat down across from me. "Emma, you need to keep your strength up."

"Please don't tell me what to do." The words came out sharper than intended. "I'm sorry. I just... I need her to be okay first."

He nodded, setting the plate down. "I understand. But I'm here, okay? Whatever you need."

What I needed was to rewind time. To not have kissed him last night. To not have these feelings complicating everything when my mother's life hung in the balance. To not be sitting here with a deleted text message burning a hole in my conscience.

"Alexander," I started, then stopped. How did I even begin?

"What is it?"

I looked at him, really looked at him. The man who'd dropped everything to fly me across the world. Who'd admitted this morning that I made him feel something real for the first time in years.

The man I was already lying to.

"This morning," I said, chickening out. "What you said about feelings and honesty. Did you mean it?"

His dark eyes held mine. "Every word."

"But why?" The question burst out. "I'm nobody, Alexander. A struggling artist you married for a business arrangement. You could have anyone. Why would you want me?"

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Do you know what my life was like before you? I woke up, went to the office, attended meetings where people told me what I wanted to hear, came home to an empty penthouse. Every single day, the same thing."

"Sounds lonely."

"It was. But I told myself it was safer. After what happened with Victoria" He stopped abruptly, jaw tightening.

My heart skipped. Victoria. The reporter who'd texted me. "What happened with Victoria?"

"Ancient history." He waved it off, but tension radiated from his shoulders. "The point is, I learned to keep people at arm's length. Then you walked into my office with your ridiculous proposition, and you made me laugh for the first time in months."

Despite everything, my lips twitched. "My negotiating skills weren't that terrible."

"Emma, you asked for fifty thousand dollars. I would have paid ten times that." A hint of a smile appeared. "But you were real. You didn't want anything from me except help for your mother. You looked at me like I was just a man, not a bank account. Do you have any idea how rare that is?"

The sincerity in his voice made my chest ache. This was a side of Alexander Knight the rest of the world never saw.

"Alexander, I need to tell you something”"

His phone rang. He glanced at it, expression darkening. "It's my lawyer." He stood, pressing the phone to his ear. "Marcus, what's wrong now?"

I watched him walk to the front of the cabin, body language shifting instantly from vulnerable man to commanding CEO.

My phone buzzed. Another text from Victoria James: "Your husband isn't who you think he is. The story breaks at 6 AM EST tomorrow. You deserve to know the truth first. Call me."

My hands trembled. What truth? What story?

I remembered Alexander's reaction when I'd mentioned her name. The tension he couldn't hide. There was something there, something he wasn't telling me.

Before I could decide what to do, Alexander returned, face grim. "We have a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"Someone leaked information about our marriage to the press. They're claiming it's a business arrangement. That we're faking it." He ran a hand through his hair. "Marcus says there's a major story breaking tomorrow morning, and the reporter has details only someone close to us would know."

The blood drained from my face. Victoria's texts suddenly made horrible sense.

"Who's the reporter?" I asked, though I already knew.

"Victoria James. She destroyed my reputation three years ago, and apparently she's decided to finish the job." Real worry filled his eyes. "If this story breaks, it could invalidate our marriage agreement. My grandmother's lawyers will argue I didn't fulfill the terms in good faith. I could lose everything, the company, the inheritance, all of it."

"And my mother's treatment," I whispered.

"I won't let that happen." His voice was fierce. "We'll fight it. Marcus is already preparing a counter-strategy. But Emma, if they start digging... is there anyone who might talk? Anyone who knows this started as an arrangement?"

Jess knew. My father suspected. But they would never betray me. Would they?

"No," I said. "No one."

"You're sure?"

I met his eyes, forcing myself not to look away. "I'm sure."

Another lie. Because I had no idea who'd leaked the information. And Victoria clearly knew something about Alexander that she thought I needed to hear.

I should tell him about the texts. We'd just talked about honesty, for God's sake.

But looking at his face, seeing the worry and determination to protect both me and my mother, I couldn't make myself do it. Not when he was already dealing with so much. Not when my mother was in surgery and everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.

"We'll figure this out," Alexander said, sitting beside me and taking my hand. "Together. I promise."

I squeezed his hand back, hating myself for the secrets I was keeping. "Together."

My phone buzzed again. Victoria, persistent, "Emma, I know you're on a plane to Switzerland. I know about your mother. I'm sorry to do this now, but you need to hear this before you land. Alexander Knight is not the man you think he is. Three years ago, he..."

The message cut off. No service this far over the ocean.

I stared at the incomplete text, heart pounding. Three years ago, Alexander had what? What had he done? And why was Victoria so determined to tell me?

Alexander's thumb traced circles on my hand, a gesture becoming familiar, comforting. I looked at his profile as he stared out the window, strong jaw, dark eyes, the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Who was this man I'd married? 

And what would I do when I finally learned the truth?