My hands clutched his wrists, nails biting into his skin until little red crescent moons bloomed beneath them. Every part of me was at war. One half ached to pull him closer, the other desperate to push him away. I thought I've cried myself empty on the walk back, but the tears gathered again, hot and threatening, just beneath the surface.
"Since when?" Alex asked, his voice stripped raw, as if the question had torn itself out of him.
"Does it matter?" I shot back.
His jaw tightened. "It does," he said, gripping my face, forcing me closer until our breaths tangled. "Because I need to know if you truly would've married him, after knowing what you feel for me. Knowing what we lost."
My chest constricted.
The baby. All that blood. My oldest friend, shattering out future with a single, brutal betrayal.
No, I couldn't go there. Not now.
"It changes nothing," I hissed, my grip tightening as if my pain could anchor me. "You're still the same man. You kill people, you destroy lives for a living. You lied to me. You deceived me." My voice broke despite myself. "I...I thought you were normal."
He slammed me hard against the door, the impact rattling through my bones.
"We deceived each other, Lara."
"There it is again," I said through clenched teeth, tightening my grip on him as if pain were the only language left between us.
I tried to shove him away, but he resisted. Violence meeting violence, neither of us willing to yield. Neither of us brave enough to let go.
"Stop it," I whispered, the plea in my voice betraying me. "Please, Alex. Let me go."
"Then what?" he murmured, cruel and desperate all at once. He brushed his mouth against my lips. Not a kiss, but just enough to remind me of everything we were destroying. "What would you do if I did?"
His lips traced my neck, possessive and unrelenting, drawing a gasp out of me.
"Would you marry another?" he went on softly, each word a blade. "Build a life with him? Have children with him? Pretend we never existed? Like this," he pressed closer, "wasn't carved into your bones?"
His hand slid to my waist, possessive and certain. "I can give you everything, Isla," Alex murmured. "The empire your grandfather promised. Power no one will ever take from you. A happy family you craved for. A life where you never have to be small again."
I closed my eyes, just for a second and that was the most dangerous thing I could've done.
Because he sounded sincere. A part of me still ached for the future he was describing. And it terrified me that he knew exactly where to press.
"You don't have to choose between them," he whispered, his forehead resting against mine. "You can have it all. Me. Your family's legacy. The love you keep pretending you don't want."
My chest tightened.
"That's the problem," I said, my voice cracking despite myself.
I opened my eyes and met his familiar green eyes, forcing him to see me. Really, see me. "You don't love me. You love her."
His brows furrowed. "I love you."
"No," I breathed. "You love Lara, the girl who was soft enough to forgive you. The girl who believed you were good. The version of me that didn't know better."
His grip faltered, just slightly.
"You don't want me," I went on, heart pounding. "You don't want the one who can live with blood on her hands if it means winning. You want the illusion of my innocence back. Something pure to save you from what you've done."
"That's not true," he said sharply.
"It is," I whispered. "That's exactly what you've been doing. You wanted me to remember because you thought I could go back to being her."
Silence collapsed between us, heavy enough to bruise. His jaw worked like he was swallowing something sharp.
"No," Alex said hoarsely. "I want you to remember because I want you to love me again."
The words hit deeper than any accusation.
My chest tightened at the naked need in his voice. Not weakness, but something feral. Something that had survived everything we had done to each other.
His hands found my waist, familiar in a way that made my body betray me before my mind could catch up. "I can give you everything," he murmured. "The empire. The power. A family. A life where no one can control you again."
"Alex..." His name broke out of me like a warning.
Something fractured in his expression. Desire bleeding into desperation, raw and unguarded.
"I love you, Isla," he said. "I don't care about anything else."
And then he kissed me.
Not gently. His mouth crashed into mine like a confession he had held too long. Wild and desperate, he claimed me like he was branding his name into my very flesh. The kiss wasn't soft or tentative. It was raw hunger, a fierce promise and a volatile threat, searing through me with every frantic pulse.
My fingers slid from his wrists to his neck, clutching him, pulling him closer, needing more.
He lifted my effortlessly, legs wrapping tight around his waist as our lips fought for dominance. I felt the hard, urgent press of him between my legs, while his hands gripped my hips possessively. My cardigan slipped away, falling forgotten, his touch igniting shivers that raced down my spine.
I was burning for him. Wild and raw. Needing him to claim every fucking inch of me. Again.
The moment I felt my back landing on my bed, I lifted myself onto my elbows, breath catching as my eyes locked onto his dark green ones. Intensely, smoldering. Slowly, deliberately, he peeled off his shirt, every movement charged with quiet promise. His hands moving to unbutton his pants, each motion heightening the electric tension between us.
"My wife," he breathed, leaning down with a hunger that trembled beneath his voice.
For a moment, I let myself escape. Let myself pretend that we were simply Alex and Lara, finally reunited after all these years.
Especially when his lips found mine again. The heat of his body warm and familiar against mine, when his fingers finally found the zipper of my dress, sliding it down my back with deliberate, tantalizing slowness.
My legs were already spread between his hips, welcoming him closer to me.
"My husband," I murmured, my voice thick with need as his lips and tongue traced a fierce, relentless path from my jaw to the hollow of my collarbone, then deep between my breasts. Each touch igniting a wildfire beneath my skin, leaving me trembling, raw and utterly consumed.
Alex lifted his gaze, his eyes dark with wonder, lips parting in a smile that shattered my soul. Handsome, worn and utterly his. "I've longed to hear you say that," he whispered, as if the words themselves were salvation. A new beginning.
I propped myself up on my elbows, eyes locked on him when he finally slid my dress down, stripping me bare to only the thin lace of my black panties. I hadn't bothered to wear a bra since the straps of the dress was too thin. And now, it seemed like I was going to be rewarded for it.
He licked his lips, heated as his fingers curled around the edge of the lace. "Now, let my worship you, Princess. As your reward."
He pulled the fabric down, exposing me completely before I could even catch my breath.
"Alex..." I gasped the moment his tongue traced a searing path between my legs, his fingers following with deliberate pressure. The wet sounds of my arousal filling the room, raw and unrestrained. "Fuck, Barinov."
He chuckled low and deep between my legs, before his mouth claimed me there again. My fingers tangling fiercely in his hair, desperate to hold him closer, to never let him go.