Alexander pov
I couldn’t sleep.
With a frustrated sigh, I sat up, reaching for the pack of cigarettes and lighter on the desk. I needed something—anything—to stop the thoughts clouding my mind. But no matter how many drags I took, the gnawing feeling wouldn’t go away.
What the hell was this? Guilt? No, it couldn’t be. I was Alexander Knight—cold, ruthless, and immune to such pathetic emotions. Or so I thought.
Running a hand through my hair, I exhaled sharply before flicking the cigarette into the ashtray. Smoking wasn’t cutting it. I needed something stronger. A drink. If a cigarette couldn’t do the job, then a bottle of whiskey sure as hell would.
I walked out of the room, brushing a few stray strands of hair from my face. Before I realized it, my eyes drifted toward her door, and I
