บททั้งหมดของ Will you marry me, Mr. Mayor: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Althea’s POVWhen I woke up, the rain had already stopped.The room was quieter than before, wrapped in that soft kind of silence that came after a storm, when the world still smelled faintly of wet earth and the air felt cooler against the skin. For a few seconds, I didn’t open my eyes. I only listened—to the distant movement of the staff somewhere outside, to the faint rustle of leaves beyond the window, and to the steady heartbeat beneath my cheek.Alexander had fallen asleep.That alone made me smile.He said he wouldn’t.He had sounded so certain earlier, like sleep was something he could order away the same way he ordered people out of his office, but now here he was, one arm around my waist, breathing slow and even, his face softer than I had ever seen it. Without the tension in his jaw and the cold control in his eyes, he looked younger. Not boyish exactly, because Alexander Winston probably came out of the womb looking serious, but softer. Human. Mine, whispered a quiet part

Althea’s POVThe morning after the dress fitting, I woke up to the sound of my mother arguing with someone downstairs about flower arrangements, which was strange because when my mother argued, she never truly raised her voice; she simply became so calm that the person she was speaking to started apologizing without knowing what they had done wrong. For a few minutes, I stayed in bed and listened to the faint movement of the mansion around me, the staff walking through the hallways, the low voices near the staircase, and somewhere beyond the windows, the quiet hum of vehicles entering through the gate.The private dinner was still hours away, but the house was already moving like it was preparing for war in silk and crystal.I sat up slowly, touching the side of my head as if checking whether the memories from yesterday had left marks on my skin. There was no sharp pain this morning, only a dull heaviness that reminded me of rain, rivers, and a boy’s hand refusing to let go of mine. I

Althea’s POVFor a few seconds after my answer, Veronica only stared at me with the kind of smile that looked beautiful from far away and poisonous up close. I could feel Alexander’s hand resting over mine, warm and steady against my fingers, and I knew he was watching her carefully, not because he thought I couldn’t answer for myself, but because he understood that people like Veronica rarely attacked with only one knife.Governor Alcantara cleared his throat, clearly sensing that his daughter had already stepped too close to a line she shouldn’t have touched. “Mrs. Winston,” he said, his smile practiced but tight, “it’s good to finally meet you formally. The province has been speaking about you quite a lot these past few days.”I smiled politely. “I’ve noticed, Governor.”His eyes flicked briefly to Alexander before returning to me. “And yet you still seem very composed.”“My mother raised me to stand straight when people are watching,” I answered. “My father taught me to stand stra

Althea’s POVThe gunshot tore through the garden like the sky had cracked open.For one second, no one moved. The dining hall remained trapped in red emergency light, with guests frozen in their seats, silverware trembling on plates, and my father’s hand tightening around my arm as if he already knew that every instinct in my body had turned toward the terrace where Alexander had disappeared.“Althea,” Dad said firmly. “Stay here.”But my eyes were fixed on the garden doors.Another shout came from outside, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps and someone yelling for the gates to be sealed. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it hurt, and the message on my phone blurred in front of me.The wife always watches the husband leave first.No.Not this time.I pulled my arm free.“Thea!” Dad called, but I was already moving.Maybe it was reckless. Maybe Alexander would be furious. Maybe everyone in this room had every reason to stop me, but the moment I heard that gunshot, someth

Alexander’s POVFor a moment, the room became too quiet for the number of people inside it.Nico’s words remained suspended in the air, and I felt Althea’s hand still pressed against my chest, right over the heartbeat I had asked her to feel only minutes ago. The warmth of her palm should have grounded me, but all I could think about was the file name that had just dragged my father’s death out of the grave and placed it in the middle of the Bailey mansion like another weapon.Winston_Accident_Link.My father’s death was not something people were supposed to discuss casually. Officially, he died of heart failure after months of public humiliation, court summons, accusations, and the slow destruction of a reputation he had spent his life protecting. Unofficially, I had always known that pressure alone did not kill a man like my father. It weakened him, yes. It cornered him. It made him quiet in ways I still remembered too clearly. But the night he died, something had never felt right.