When left alone at the table, I begin to reflect on how far I’ve come since being thrust into Alexander’s world. The strawberry cake, while a brief comfort, symbolizes the fleeting moments of joy amidst chaos. I think about the heels and the dress—reminders of how I’ve been forced to adapt to a life that wasn’t mine.
As the atmosphere grows heavier, I vow to maintain my spirit despite the weight of my circumstances. My resilience, juxtaposed with my growing feelings for Alexander, becomes more pronounced. I question his intentions, his world, and the cost of staying under his protection.
Moments later, he returned, his usual expression unreadable.
“You always seem so serious,” I said, leaning forward on the table, my voice softer than I intended. “What would it take to make you actual
