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1735 Words
The silence hung heavy in the office, wrapping around me like a suffocating fog.
I stood frozen, my heart pounding in my chest as Alexander’s proposal echoed in my ears.
Marry me.
I couldn’t have heard him right.
He leaned against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, his dark eyes steady — unreadable. The air between us crackled with tension, the memory of last night still lingering in my mind.
“Why would you ask me that?” I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
His jaw ticked, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied me — like he was weighing his words.
“This isn’t a game,” he said finally, his voice low and controlled.
“You must be depressed or something,” I shot back, the shock snapping something inside me. “You don’t just ask someone to marry you out of nowhere. What the hell is this, Alexander?”
His eyes darkened at the sound of his name.
I was tired of him keeping me at arm’s length, pushing and pulling like he was the only one allowed to break.
“I need you to marry me” His voice was flat and emotionless.
“But why ?”
"Because you’re the only woman I trust not to fall in love with me."
He had said it like it was a compliment — like he was doing me a favor by offering this cold, loveless arrangement.
But I wasn’t stupid.
There was more.
I could feel it — buried beneath the surface, behind those carefully constructed walls he always hid behind.
“I don’t believe you.”
His eyes snapped to mine, the air in the room shifting.
I took a step forward.
“You’re lying,” I said softly. “You want me to think this is some calculated decision. That you picked me because I’m convenient and... disposable.”
His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
“But that’s not it, is it?”
I stepped even closer, until I could feel the heat radiating off his body.
“There’s something else.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, his fingers curling against the edge of the desk like he was holding himself back.
“Stop.”
“You don’t need a wife, Alexander,” I whispered. “You need something else. Something you’re not telling me.”
His breath hitched — barely noticeable, but I caught it.
For one second, I saw it — the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes before he slammed the door shut again.
“You’re out of your depth, Miss Carter.” His voice was cold.
He was shutting down, retreating behind that ice-cold mask again — the same one he always wore.
But I wasn’t going to let him.
Not this time.
I stepped right into his space, close enough that I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jawline. Close enough that I could feel his breath against my lips.
“You’re scared,” I murmured.
His hand shot out — lightning fast — wrapping around my wrist. Not hard, not painful... but enough to make me gasp.
His eyes burned into mine.
“I don’t get scared,” he said through gritted teeth.
Liar.
I could feel it — the tension coiled beneath his skin, the storm raging just beneath the surface.
Whatever this was — whatever secret he was hiding — it was clawing at him from the inside out.
“You’re not as untouchable as you think you are,” I whispered.
His grip tightened just slightly — like he was fighting some internal battle.
Then —
He let me go.
I stumbled back a step, my pulse hammering in my throat.
He turned away, his hands raking through his dark hair — the first crack in his perfect composure.
“You’re right.” His voice was low, barely audible.
My heart stopped.
I hadn’t expected him to admit it.
Not like that.
I waited, holding my breath — but he didn’t say anything else.
He just stood there, staring out the window, his broad shoulders rising and falling with every breath.
The silence stretched between us, thicker than ever.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
His hands curled into fists at his sides.
“No.”
I exhaled shakily, a strange ache blooming in my chest.
This man...
But something told me that whatever he was hiding beneath that cold exterior — whatever ghost was haunting him — it was slowly destroying him from the inside out.
And he didn’t want anyone to see it.
Especially not me.
“Fine,” I said quietly. “Then I have one condition.”
He turned, his dark eyes narrowing.
“If I marry you...” I swallowed hard. “I want to know the truth.”
His gaze locked onto mine, something dangerous flickering in his expression.
“That’s not how this works.”
“It is now.”
For a long moment, he just stared at me — like he was trying to figure out whether I was brave or just incredibly stupid.
Maybe both.
But then —
He stepped closer.
So close I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.
“You want the truth?” His voice was low like a seductive threat.
I nodded.
“Then marry me"
His fingers brushed along my jaw, his thumb tracing the curve of my bottom lip.
“And maybe,” he murmured, “I’ll give it to you.”
I knew then —
I was playing a game I couldn’t possibly win.
But God help me...
I wanted to play.
---
His touch lingered on my skin—light and teasing. The air between us pulsed, heavy with tension.
I should have walked away.
I should have turned my back and left him standing there with his secrets, because something inside me knew that it wasn't going to end well with him.
But I didn't.
Because some sick, twisted part of me wanted to know what broke a man like Alexander Blackwood—what carved out all the softness and left only ice and razor edges behind.
His thumb dragged along my bottom lip again, slower this time—like he was testing just how far he could push before I snapped.
"The moment I saw you for the first time, I knew you wasn't going to be easy to deal with"he said with a smile hidden in his smirk.
His voice was a low growl, rougher than before.
"Really?" I wasn't actually replying to his words as him being too close made me to loose my breath.
I hated how breathless I sounded—how easily he unraveled me with just a single touch.
His smirk was cruel.
"But I've seen girls like you, and they can only go far, until...."
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to hold his gaze.
"You know nothing about me."I said
Something flickered in his eyes.
His fingers slipped from my jaw, trailing down the column of my neck, stopping just where my pulse thrummed beneath my skin.
He felt it—how fast my heart was racing.
And he liked it.
"You want the truth?" he murmured.
I nodded slowly, even though every instinct in my body screamed at me to run.
"I want everything."
A muscle ticked in his jaw, his thumb pressing just a little harder against my pulse—just enough to remind me who was in control.
"You'll regret that."
"I'll take my chances."
His hand dropped away suddenly, leaving me cold. He turned on his heel, walking back toward the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city.
"You'll have your truth," he said quietly. "But on my terms."
Of course.
He always had to be the one pulling the strings—always had to keep everyone exactly where he wanted them.
"You haven't even asked if I'll say yes."
A bitter smile flickered across his lips, though he didn't look at me.
"You will."
Arrogant bastard.
I wanted to throw something at him—wipe that smug look off his face. But the worst part?
He was right.
I would say yes.
Because I needed this job.
Because I needed him to crack open all those secrets he kept buried beneath the surface.
And maybe...
Because some masochistic part of me wanted to know what it would feel like to belong to a man like Alexander Blackwood—even if only on paper.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.
Finally, he turned back to face me, his expression carved from stone.
"There will be rules."
Of course there would be.
"Naturally."
"You'll live in my house."
I blinked, my stomach flipping.
"What?"
He stepped closer.
"If we're going to convince the world we're in love, you'll move in with me. Effective immediately."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"That's not necessary—"
"It's not up for debate."
His voice was softer now—deadly quiet.
"I don't do half-measures, Miss Carter. If you're going to be my wife, you're going to play the part—publicly and privately."
Heat flushed beneath my skin, and I hated that he could see it—hated that he could probably feel the way my pulse jumped.
"You expect me to sleep in your bed?"
His smirk was pure sin.
"I expect you to sleep in my house."
He didn't answer the question, and I hated how badly I wanted him to.
I forced myself to stay calm, even as the ground shifted beneath my feet.
"And what do you expect from me... privately?"
His eyes locked onto mine, dark and unreadable.
"Obedience."
My breath caught in my throat.
"You really are a cold-hearted bastard."
His smirk widened, but there was no humor in it—just that same quiet cruelty that made my stomach twist.
"You've always known that about me"
Bastard.
I should have slapped him.
Instead, I crossed my arms tightly over my chest—like that would somehow protect me from whatever the hell this was between us.
"And what do I get out of this little arrangement?
_____
"You get to keep your job."
I bristled, the heat of humiliation prickling beneath my skin.
"Go to hell."
"I already live there, sweetheart"
Silence stretched, sharp and suffocating.
"Fine."
- Writer
