Victor’s POV
At the bar, Amelia is practically draped over me....her fingers tracing lazy circles on my chest,....but I barely register her presence.
All I can think about is Alice.
The meeting we had plays over and over in my head like a stubborn echo.
She has always been fierce. Stubborn. Unyielding.
But how dare she keep insisting she won’t marry me?
My jaw tightens as I take a slow sip of my drink, the burn of the alcohol doing nothing to calm the irritation rising in me. I mean… I am a fine catch. Any woman would consider herself lucky...no, privileged....to be my wife.
But not Alice.
My little Allie.
A faint smirk tugs at my lips despite myself. She should be grateful that I want her.
And yet…
The thought shifts, softens against my will.
I’m the lucky one.
