Alexander
The memory of her and Andrew clouded on his head, that evening burned in his mind like acid. Andrew had asked him to meet at the Engline Hotel. Said it was important, personal. Alexander hadn’t thought twice.
But nothing could have prepared him for what waited in that suite.
Her.
Standing there in the hotel room with one hand clutched on her clothes.
His focus was on her only even when Andrew mumbled him again, telling him that she was like others who wish to open their leg for money.
Their marriage was little more than ink on paper—a facade, a cage built by circumstances, neither of them wanted. But none of that mattered when he saw her like that.
The fury that shot through him was blinding.
It wasn’t just anger. It was betrayal. Possessiveness. A violent kind of desir
