The husband she never wanted

8

Mr. Alvan sent us to get you.

Not invited. Not asked. Not requested. Sent people to get her. The sheer audacity of it was so absurd that her brain seemed to reject it entirely.

She had spent the last several hours learning that her future had been negotiated, signed, and packaged without her knowledge. She had discovered clauses capable of destroying her family's company. She had argued with her aunt and uncle until all three of them were too exhausted to continue. Somewhere between the contract and the conversation, she'd convinced herself that nothing else could surprise her today.

Apparently she'd been wrong.

Her gaze shifted from the older man to the younger one and then back again. Neither looked uncomfortable. Neither appeared embarrassed by what they had just said. They stood in the hallway wearing expressions that suggested this sort of thing happened regularly.

Which raised several disturbing questions.

"Let me guess," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "Damien finally discovered phones are too common for him." None of them answered.

"Get me." The words left her mouth slowly. The older man nodded once.

"Yes."

Alessia laughed. The sound bounced off the apartment walls before disappearing into the hallway. Neither man joined her.

Because if somebody had told her few days ago that a billionaire she hadn't had a conversation with would dispatch a collection team to her apartment, she would have laughed in their face. Now it was happening.

"Has Damien suffered a head injury recently?" The younger bodyguard's mouth twitched. Just slightly. The movement lasted less than a second. Alessia caught it anyway. The older one remained perfectly composed.

"Not to my knowledge."

"Interesting."

She leaned against the doorway and folded her arms across her chest. "Then explain something to me." The older man waited.

"Why exactly does he think sending two strangers to my apartment is a normal way to arrange a conversation?"

The question hung in the air. For the first time since opening the door, the older man seemed to consider his answer carefully.

"Mr. Alvan asked us to bring you to his office."

"That wasn't my question."

"No."

"Then answer the question I asked."

A brief silence followed. The younger man shifted slightly. Not enough to look nervous. Just enough to suggest he'd rather be somewhere else. Neither man reacted. The older one simply answered.

"Mr. Alvan would like to meet with you." The wording annoyed her instantly.

"Would he?"

"Yes."

"That's unfortunate."

The man waited. Alessia waited too. The silence stretched between them until it became uncomfortable. Unfortunately for them, Alessia had spent the last two days dealing with people who thought silence was a weapon. Compared to her uncle, these two were amateurs.

"You can tell him no."

The younger bodyguard blinked.

The older one didn't.

"Mr. Alvan requested your presence."

"Yes, I heard that part."

Her gaze moved between both men before settling on the older one again. "I'm declining my presence."

For the first time, she noticed the younger bodyguard fighting a reaction. The corners of his mouth twitched before he regained control of himself. The discovery gave her a small burst of satisfaction.

At least one of them was capable of feeling human emotions.

The older man remained unmoved.

"If you'd prefer, you can tell him yourself."

"Oh, excellent. Give me his number."

Neither man spoke. Alessia stared. Then stared harder.

"You're not actually going to give me his number, are you?"

"No."

"Thought so." The younger bodyguard looked away. That only encouraged her.

"How long have you worked for him?" The question seemed to catch both men off guard. The older one answered first.

"Several years." Alessia nodded thoughtfully.

"My condolences." The younger bodyguard lost the fight completely. A laugh escaped him before he turned it into a cough. The older man shot him a look that could have frozen water.

Alessia pointed immediately. "See? He gets it."

Neither man responded. The younger one suddenly seemed fascinated by the wall. The older one looked as though he regretted every decision that had led him to this hallway. For some reason, that improved her mood considerably.

"Did he tell you I'd refuse?"

The silence that followed answered the question before either man spoke. Alessia's eyes narrowed.

"He did." A sharp burst of irritation shot through her chest. The arrogance of it was unbelievable.

"He actually sent you here knowing I wouldn't want to come." The older man considered that. Then nodded once.

"Yes." She groaned and rubbed a hand across her face. "I genuinely cannot decide whether that's confidence or a personality disorder."

The younger bodyguard made a suspicious noise. The older one closed his eyes briefly. These two simply stood there absorbing everything she threw at them. She was beginning to understand why Damien trusted them. They were impossible.

"Did he really send you all the way here for this?"

"Yes."

"That's embarrassing."

Nothing.

Not even a blink.

Alessia studied the older man more carefully. He couldn't have been much younger than her uncle. Broad shoulders. Straight posture. The sort of face that revealed nothing unless it intended to. She got the impression he could stand in the middle of a hurricane and still look exactly the same.

The younger one wasn't much better.

Her eyes narrowed.

"What happens if I refuse?" The question settled between them. The older bodyguard folded his hands in front of him.

"If you refuse, we'll wait." Alessia frowned.

"Outside my apartment?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"As long as necessary."

She stared. The younger bodyguard looked away. Alessia glanced down the hallway and pictured herself spending the next several hours trapped in a battle of stubbornness with Damien Alvan's employees. The image was not appealing.

Mostly because she suspected Damien had spread whatever disease made them all so patient.

Her eyes drifted back toward the two men waiting outside her door. Then toward the elevator beyond them. The entire day felt like one long sequence of other people deciding what happened next.

She was getting very tired of it.

Behind her, the apartment remained exactly as she'd left it. The contract sat open on the coffee table. One lamp illuminated the living room. Her half-finished coffee had gone cold over an hour ago. The normality of the scene contrasted sharply with the two men standing outside her door.

And for the first time since opening her apartment door, Alessia found herself wishing she had spent more time deciding what to say. The entire situation felt absurd. One part of her wanted to slam the door. Another part wanted to keep arguing simply out of spite. A third part had started wondering how long they would actually remain there if she refused. That thought lingered.

Without a word, she turned and disappeared back into the apartment. The bodyguards remained outside. Waiting. Of course they did.

Alessia grabbed her bag from the kitchen counter before checking for her phone, keys and wallet. The familiar routine helped settle some of the frustration buzzing beneath her skin. For a few moments she focused entirely on practical things. Making sure she had everything. Straightening the sleeve of her shirt. Pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Anything except thinking about where she was going. Her eyes drifted toward the coffee table. The contract still sat where she'd left it. Open. Waiting. Several pages remained spread across the surface, dimly illuminated by the lamp beside the couch. The sight made her hesitate.

Only an hour ago that document had been the center of her attention. Now Damien had somehow found another way to drag her into his orbit. A humorless laugh escaped her. The man had a remarkable talent for appearing exactly when she least wanted him to.

With a sigh, she walked back toward the entrance and grabbed her coat from the rack beside the door. Nothing about the last few days had gone according to plan.mShe stepped into the hallway and pulled the apartment door shut behind her.

The lock clicked. A small sound. Yet it seemed unusually loud in the quiet corridor. For some reason, Alessia found herself staring at the door for a second longer than necessary. The older bodyguard gestured toward the elevator.

"This way." Alessia rolled her eyes.

"I think I can find an elevator." The man accepted the comment without reaction. She was beginning to suspect he'd spent years developing immunity to sarcasm. The elevator arrived a few moments later.

The doors slid open. All three stepped inside. The descent felt longer than it actually was.

Alessia watched the numbers illuminate one after another while silence settled over the cabin once again. Reflections stared back at them from the polished metal walls. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved beyond the occasional shift of weight.

By the time the doors opened onto the lobby, she was more than ready to leave the elevator behind.

The building's entrance was quiet. A security guard glanced up from his desk as they crossed the lobby before immediately returning to whatever he had been doing. Outside, the city greeted them with a rush of headlights, distant traffic and cool evening air.

Alessia stepped through the glass doors and stopped. The vehicle waiting at the curb immediately caught her attention. Black. Expensive. She stared at it for a moment before shaking her head.

The younger bodyguard moved ahead and opened the rear passenger door. The interior lighting spilled onto the pavement.

Alessia looked at the vehicle. Then at the two men. Then back at the vehicle again. The absurdity of the situation hit her one final time. A week ago she hadn't known Damien Alvan.

Now she was getting into one of his cars. On her way to one of his buildings. To discuss a marriage she never agreed to. Somewhere along the way her life had stopped making sense.

With a final sigh, Alessia climbed into the vehicle.The door closed. The silence inside the vehicle felt dense, stretched tight between three people who had absolutely no interest in speaking to one another. Alessia sat beside the window with her arms folded across her chest, staring out at the city while countless thoughts fought for space inside her head. Every now and then she caught her reflection in the glass and barely recognized the woman staring back at her. Less than a week ago her biggest concern had been work, deadlines and whether she could convince herself to attend another tedious charity event. Now she was sitting in the back of a luxury SUV on her way to meet the man she was apparently expected to marry.

The absurdity of it still hadn't worn off.

Streetlights flashed across the window as the city moved around them. Cars slipped in and out of traffic. Restaurants glowed with warm light. Groups of friends laughed on crowded sidewalks while couples wandered past storefronts without a care in the world. Nobody knew she'd spent the afternoon reading a contract that dictated where she would live, who she would marry and how the next several years of her life would unfold.

Her gaze drifted toward the front of the vehicle.

Neither bodyguard had attempted conversation since she climbed into the car. They sat with the same patience they'd displayed outside her apartment, as though silence was simply another part of the job. She had spent nearly twenty minutes trying to provoke some sort of reaction out of them and had gotten almost nothing in return.

The longer she thought about it, the more she realized Damien had probably chosen them for exactly that reason.

The realization did nothing for her mood.

Normally she enjoyed night drives.

Tonight she hated every second of it. Mostly because every kilometer brought her closer to Damien. The thought alone was enough to sour her mood. She still hadn't decided what exactly she planned to say when she saw him. She only knew she had plenty to say.

An entire list, actually. The cohabitation clause. The bodyguards. The complete lack of normal communication. The list kept growing the longer she thought about it. Unfortunately, so did the number of questions she wanted answered.

Eventually the scenery outside began to change. The familiar neighborhoods gave way to wider streets and taller buildings. Glass towers rose above the city skyline, their illuminated windows shining against the darkness like thousands of tiny stars. The entire district carried a different atmosphere from the rest of the city. Money seemed to linger in the air here. Everything looked cleaner. Sharper. More expensive. Even the traffic appeared better dressed.

Alessia watched the buildings pass one after another until the vehicle finally began to slow. At first she thought they had reached another traffic light.

Then the car turned. Her eyes lifted. The building dominated the street.

Glass and steel climbed into the night sky, towering over everything around it. A declration of power built into the city's skyline. Light spilled from dozens upon dozens of floors, transforming the structure into a glowing monument visible from half the city away. The entrance alone looked larger than the lobby of most hotels she'd visited. Security personnel stood near the revolving doors while expensive vehicles arrived and departed with quiet efficiency.

The sight of it settled heavily in her chest. Up until now, Damien had existed as a collection of conversations, arguments and signatures on paper. A name attached to contracts. Even their previous encounters had felt disconnected from reality somehow, as though she had been watching someone else's life unfold.

This building changed that. This was real. This was tangible. This was proof that Damien Alvan occupied a world entirely different from her own. The vehicle rolled to a stop near the entrance. Nobody spoke.

The driver killed the engine. The younger bodyguard stepped out first. The older one opened her door.

"Miss Moretti." Alessia stared at the building one last time. Then slowly climbed out. The night air felt cool. The tower loomed overhead. Alessia looked up one final time.

The tower stretched endlessly above her. Somewhere beyond those walls sat the man responsible for nearly every problem in her life. Somewhere inside that building, Damien Alvan was waiting.

And for the first time since leaving her apartment, Alessia found herself wishing she had spent less time arguing with his bodyguards and more time deciding what she was going to say when she finally stood in front of him.

Because after everything that had happened, that moment was no longer tomorrow. It was waiting on the other side of those doors and maybe she can find the answers she has been looking for.

Hopefully, her sanity would come back intact.