Chapter 8

Alexander's eyes turned icy cold in an instant, and that sharp look made Elizabeth shrink back instinctively.

"Honey..."

"What do you want to say?"

Elizabeth hesitated for a second, biting her lip before speaking, "I want to go out tomorrow."

"No."

"Babe, I swear I'm not trying to run, just trust me this once, okay?"

Alexander suddenly set his fork down with a quiet thud, his gaze still cold as ever. "Anything but that."

"But I want to go back to the Harper house."

"No way."

That text message...

His fingers, resting on his knees, clenched and loosened repeatedly. "I'm done eating."

And just like that, before Elizabeth could react, he stood and walked away.

She stared at his back, lips pressed together, then brought up the text again.

It was a photo. If Alexander were here, he'd instantly recognize it — inside the hallway of Dusk Lounge, talking to a woman.

The next photo showed him holding the same woman.

The image was blurry, only catching half her face, but even blurred, Elizabeth could recognize it anywhere.

And she knew exactly who sent these.

A faint, bitter smile tugged at her lips. Her phone buzzed again.

"Sis, did you use the abortion paperwork?"

"Yeah."

"What about Mr. Blake? Did he agree to the divorce?"

"Nope."

Half an hour later.

Victoria texted again: "Sis, mom and dad just found out you tried to sneak out. They're totally freaking out. Figure it out."

Right after reading the message, her phone started ringing.

Seeing the caller ID, Elizabeth rushed upstairs. She took a deep breath and slid to answer.

"Mom."

Whatever Donna said on the other end made Elizabeth's tears fall instantly. "Okay."

After hanging up, Elizabeth grabbed her pillow and blanket and stood outside Alexander's room.

She knocked. The door opened almost right away.

Alexander was wearing a gray robe, a bit loose at the collar, with that classic handsome face of his completely emotionless, eyes deep like still water.

Elizabeth's eyes slowly wandered from his face down to his chest, then paused.

"Something wrong?" he asked coolly, and when he noticed her gaze—and thought of that text—his eyes turned even colder.

Then he spotted the pillow and blanket in her arms, frowning slightly.

His voice snapped her back to reality. Realizing where her eyes had wandered, her face flushed with awkwardness.

"Our bedroom just had new furniture moved in today," she explained quickly, "it still smells like paint... I was wondering if I can sleep here tonight."

Alexander's already tense brow twitched again, clearly puzzled.

He stared at her for a long beat before finally turning around and walking back inside.

Elizabeth looked at his back, unsure of what that meant.

Was she allowed in, or...?

He turned abruptly to the doorway where she still stood like a statue. His voice was cold, a little irritated. "You coming in or what?"

Snapped out of her daze, she hurried to catch up. But she didn't notice the corner of the blanket slipped loose and stepped on it, tripping herself straight forward—right onto Alexander.

Boom—both of them hit the floor.

Elizabeth landed right on top of him, staring directly into his startled face, barely inches away.

She couldn't help blurting out, "You're seriously too good-looking."

Alexander's face shifted for a split second, something unreadable flashing in his usually indifferent expression.

"Get off," he said flatly.Elizabeth sat up fast, but the moment she moved, something felt off.

Something was poking her.

She glanced down, trying to figure out what it was, but before she could get a clear look, Alexander sat up and yanked the blanket over her head.

By the time she pulled it off, he was already in the bathroom.

She sat there on the floor, completely dumbfounded.

Was he seriously rejecting her attempt to make peace?

With a sigh, Elizabeth curled up on Alexander's bed, still clutching the blanket. But her ears stayed perked, listening for any sound from the bathroom.

She heard the running water stop, then shortly after, the door creaked open.

Even with her eyes closed, she could tell someone was staring at her.

Alexander stood beside the bed, quietly watching her for a long time without saying a word.

Everything that happened today still felt surreal; she not only said she didn't want a divorce, but now she insisted on sharing a bed with him.

He took a deep breath, pulled back the covers, and lay down beside her.

The room was pitch dark.

Elizabeth kept perfectly still, listening. Only when she felt him settle in did she finally relax a bit.

Then, inch by inch, she rolled over and snuggled into his arms.

Caught off guard by her sudden move, Alexander froze.

His mind replayed the words she'd said at dinner earlier.

Out of nowhere, he sat up in bed, about to get out when a pair of small arms wrapped around him from behind.

"Honey, do you not love me anymore? I already apologized, what else do I have to do for you to forgive me? Please, believe me."

Alexander lifted his hand but stopped halfway, falling silent for a long while.

"I really mean it, I'm wrong, okay?" Elizabeth said softly, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "What will it take for you to forgive me?"

She clearly had no idea just how much that little gesture was messing with his self-control.

He grabbed her mischievous fingers, his voice low and rough. "You have any idea what you're about to start?"

Elizabeth blinked, not quite getting it yet. But then he was already on top of her.

In the darkness, she gazed up at him—and suddenly, it all clicked.

"Of course I know. You're my man. If I wanna sleep with you, I will."

She boldly pulled him down and flipped things over, pinning him underneath.

...

Later, Alexander looked down at the woman sound asleep in his arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before quietly slipping out of bed.

When Elizabeth woke up, daylight had already spilled into the room.

Her whole body ached, littered with marks confirming everything that had happened last night.

Thinking back to how even after all that, he still didn't say yes to her request, she sat up and ruffled her hair in frustration.

Downstairs, she called out, "Jordan, did Alexander leave you any instructions?"

The butler replied, "Sir said you're free to go anywhere you like in the villa, except you may not leave the estate."

She scoffed quietly. Even after last night, he still wouldn't agree.

After breakfast, Elizabeth turned to the butler before heading back upstairs. "I'm painting today. Don't come up unless I call."

Back in her room, she slipped into a different outfit, then made her way to the elevator that led to the garage.

If she remembered right, the password was her birthday.

She tried it—and bingo, the doors slid open.

In the garage, she spotted the red Ferrari Alexander had gifted her. She climbed in and started the engine.

As the car rolled out, one of the maids watering flowers in the garden spotted her and shouted, "Jordan! Ma'am's running away again!"