Chapter 0023
Before I could react, I was yanked forward, my back slamming into the cold wall. Panic surged as a hand clamped over my mouth, and I froze, unable to move. His presence was suffocating his grip like steel, trapping me in place.
“You’re planning to marry Liam?” His voice sliced through the tension–low, unmistakable. Alexander.
His hand remained on my mouth, his fingers digging in as claiming me. My pulse hammered, and I struggled to break free, but his hold was unyielding.
His other hand tightened around my wrist above my head. My body trembled, heat spreading under his touch.
I slammed my free hand against his chest, pushing with all my might, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he pushed closer, his chest pressed against mine, his breath warm against my car.
Answer the question, Lauren,” he growled, his voice rough, dangerous.
I glared at him, my breath quickening. “I would if you’d uncover my mouth!” I hissed, straining against his grip. This is a closet! Get your hands off me! You’re an Alpha, sir!”
A mocking smile curved his lips. “Answer the question, Lauren. Now.”
My teeth ground together. I had no choice. “Yes,” I spat, “I’m marrying Liam. My fiancé and your fiancée, the mother of your child, are just outside. You want to play this game? Don’t make a scene, Alexander.” My pulse thundered in my neck. “If we’re caught-
His expression darkened, his jaw tightening with fury and something else something raw, “You think you can just walk away from me? From us?” His voice dropped to a whisper, dangerous and low. “Why are you acting like this? Like you don’t know me? Like you don’t know us?”
His face was inches from mine, his breath warm against my lips. His eyes burned with an intensity that made my head spin. I wanted to push him away, scream for him to let me go, but instead, I froze. My body betrayed me, caught in the storm of his presence. The air around us thickened, every inch of me trapped in the tension.
I wanted to spit in his face, to tell him to get out of my life for good, to remind him that whatever twisted version of us he still clung to–whatever fantasy he refused to let go of–had died a long time ago. He killed it. Killed me.
“I’ve told you countless times, I’m not your dead wife!” I shot back, fury bubbling to the surface.
His expression didn’t change. Instead, his hand moved to my throat, fingers tightening, squeezing with a ferocity. that left me gasping
- 11.
“No more games,” he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. “She didn’t die, Lauren. You are her. Where is our child?”
The world stopped.
His hand gripped tighter, and everything spun. The air thickened, pressing against me, suffocating me. His words cut through me like a blade, sharp, cruel. The room seemed to close in on me, the walls narrowing with the weight of his question.
Pain sliced through my chest, and I felt my breath catch, my throat tightening. It was a different kind of ache, sharper, deeper–one that had nothing to do with his hand tightening around my throat. The words slipped out before I could stop them, an involuntary confession that left me gasping. Tears blurred my vision, and the word ” child” nearly buckled my knees.
“The child… is dead…”
+25 BONUS
Cheater 1022
The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to swallow them whole, bury them deep where no one could hear. But the damage was done.
His grip loosened, and for a moment, I thought I’d reached him. But when I met his eyes, I knew I was wrong. There was no softness–only cold, sharp ice. His mouth twisted into something darker, leaving me feeling even more exposed.
“No…” His voice barely whispered, rough and jagged as it scraped against me. “What… explain, Lauren.”
I swallowed, feeling the weight of my own words. I should have said anything. But it was out there now. My grief. My pain. 1 steadied myself as best I could, but my voice still cracked. “Everyone knows Lauren died from complications during childbirth. Her child… stillborn.” The words left my mouth bitterly, as he wasn’t the one who had pulled the strings.
Alexander’s face twisted with something sharp–agony, disbelief, and anger all tangled together. His voice was rough, almost desperate. “No… that’s impossible,” he growled, stepping closer, his gaze dark and intense. “Did you miscarry?”
I almost laughed his reaction, fake concern like a slap to the face. “You don’t even care,” I spat, my voice thick with pain. “You already have Owen. Why would you care about the child of your late wife?”
For a moment, his expression faltered. Just a flicker, a flash of something I couldn’t quite grasp.
“Actually…” he muttered, his voice dropping low into something almost menacing. “Owen is…”
