ALEXANDER
"Bring yourself and your husband to the house today," Gregory Astor said, finally looking up from his desk. The familiar irritating look was there, that mix of disappointment and thinly veiled disdain he reserved only for me.
"And why is that?" I replied flatly, not bothering to sit down. "I'm sure your other children wouldn't want to see me any more than I want to see them."
Gregory's jaw tightened, veins standing out on his forehead. "Don't be difficult, Alexander. Bring Dashiell. The family needs to meet the new addition to the Astor name. It's time we present him properly."
I scoffed, the sound low and humorless. "Present him? Like a show pony at one of your tedious dinners? How charming."
My father's face darkened. "You will bring him tonight, no excuses."
I stared at him for a beat, then gave a single, indifferent shrug. "Fine. We'll be there, If you want to stare at the man I'm fucking, fine. But don't expect me to smile and play happy family."
Of course I would go. Refusing would only create more pointless noise. But I wouldn't pretend to be pleased about it.
I turned and walked out without another word, I could hear him yelling something after me, but I didn't bother listening. The door shut, cutting off the rest of his predictable rant.
I headed down the corridor toward my own office, noting the stares. They were the usual ones: fear, Admiration, curiosity, the occasional flash of resentment I'd grown used to after years in this hospital. But today they felt… heavier. More charged. Whispers followed me like shadows.
I couldn't be bothered to wonder why. People's opinions were meaningless.
I entered my office, closed the door, and dropped into my chair. The remaining patient files for the day sat neatly stacked on my desk. I opened the first one, but my mind refused to focus. Instead, it drifted to the little thing I'd married.
Dashiell.
The memory of last night played unbidden, the way he'd moaned and begged, how his body had clenched around me even while he cried for me to slow down. Then this morning: flushed, sore, limping slightly in that ridiculous turtleneck, trying so hard to act normal while leaking my cum and pretending he wasn't.
It was not much of a wonder he'd been untouched before me. My lips curved into a faint smirk. That untouched state had everything to do with me. I had made sure no one else would ever get to see him fall apart like that. He was mine, my shy, overthinking, rule-obsessed little anomaly.
Though I had to keep playing the part of the unwilling husband….not to reveal the truth.
A knock sounded at the door, followed immediately by it opening before I could respond.
Dr. Calliope Langford slipped inside and closed the door behind her, eyes already glistening with unshed tears. "Is it true?"
I watched her with bored detachment, leaning back in my chair. "Is what true?"
She stepped closer, coming to stand right in front of my desk, far too close for my liking. The irritation prickled under my skin.
"That you're married?" Her voice cracked.
I felt my lips almost lift in a smirk. So the little thing had let the cat out of the bag already. How predictable.
Calliope's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my god… so it's true."
I regarded her coolly, completely unmoved. "And how is that any of your business?"
Tears spilled over now, tracking down her cheeks. "How can you ask that? After everything? We've been sleeping together for months, Alexander. I thought… I thought we had something. I was falling for you. I told you I wanted more than just sex. And now you're suddenly *married*? To some random new doctor no one even knew about?"
I felt nothing, no guilt, no irritation beyond the fact that she was still standing there wasting my time.
I leaned back in my chair, completely unmoved. Her tears meant nothing. Her feelings meant nothing. She had been a convenient body when I needed release, nothing more.
"You thought wrong," I said flatly. "It was sex, I never promised you anything else."
She let out a sob, stepping around the desk toward me. "You're so cruel. You know I love you. How could you do this to me?" Fresh tears streamed down her face as she reached for me, trying to cup my jaw and pull me into a kiss.
There was no spark or desire. Just the clinical observation that her touch felt intrusive and unwelcome.
I caught her wrist before she could touch me and pushed her hand away firmly. "Don't."
Her tears fell faster. "Alexander… I gave you everything. My body, my heart. You can't just throw me away like this."
"There was nothing to throw away," I said bluntly. "You were a warm hole when I needed one. Nothing more, now leave."
"Leave," I repeated, voice colder this time, completely devoid of emotion. "Now. Before I have security escort you out."
She stared at me, mascara running, lips trembling. "You're a monster. A heartless fucking monster."
I tilted my head slightly. "Correct. Now get out of my office."
With a choked sob, she turned and rushed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
The silence that followed was blissful.
I exhaled once, already pushing the entire encounter from my mind. Calliope's feelings were her problem, not mine. She had served her purpose and now she was irrelevant.
My thoughts drifted back to Dashiell. My pretty, flustered little husband. The way he'd looked this morning, trying so hard to hide everything while his body still remembered every brutal thrust. The memory sent a low pulse of satisfaction through me.
*****
"So are you going to tell me about your family and what to expect from them?" Dashiell asked, shifting again in the car seat.
I glanced at him. The nervous tension in his posture was oddly cute, shoulders slightly hunched, fingers twisting in his lap, eyes darting between the road and me. He would soon learn that my so-called family wasn't worth the mental energy.
We were on our way to the Astor estate. After leaving the hospital, we went home for a quick change of clothes. Now the city lights were giving way to the long private drive lined with perfectly manicured trees.
"You were the one who wanted to marry me, my little anomaly," I said calmly, keeping my eyes on the road. "Shouldn't you already know how the 'great' Astor family operates?"
He rolled his eyes, a small spark of defiance that I found far more entertaining than it should have been. "Will you keep holding the fact that I married you over my head? You already know why it happened the way it did."
I hummed, the corner of my mouth twitching. "Because your family's hospital was bleeding money and your sister refused to spread her legs for me. So you volunteered your tight little virgin ass instead. Very noble."
Dashiell made a strangled noise, cheeks flushing. "That's not… ugh.
Why do you have to say it like that?"
"Because it's accurate."
He shifted again, clearly uncomfortable, then asked, "And why are you calling me 'little anomaly'?"
"Don't you like it?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"No! Why would I?" He sounded genuinely offended, which only made it more entertaining. "Why would anyone like to be called an anomaly? It sounds like I'm a glitch in your perfectly ordered world or something defective."
I let the silence stretch for a second, then answered with complete honesty. "Because you are. You're small, pretty, kind, and somehow still untouched at twenty-five. You volunteered to marry a diagnosed psychopath to save your family's failing hospital. You blush and stammer when I talk about fucking you, yet you took every inch like you were made for it. You're an anomaly, Dashiell. A fascinating little deviation from normal. I like it."
His cheeks flushed that pretty shade of pink I was growing fond of. "If you don't stop, I'll start calling you Alexa."
I let out a low chuckle. "Okay, little anomaly."
Dashiell sighed loudly and sank deeper into the seat, rubbing his temples. "You're impossible. Just… tell me about your family so I can at least try to prepare myself."
"There's not much worth telling, my father, Gregory, is the one who called this charming gathering. He's the owner of Astor Health and enjoys pretending he still controls everything, including me."
Dashiell nodded slowly, absorbing every word with that focused, slightly anxious look he got when processing new information.
I paused, overtaking a slower car with smooth precision.
"I have an older brother, Anthony. One year older than me. He's the golden child, charming, ambitious. He'll smile at you, shake your hand, and try to figure out how useful you are and he hates me."
"Two sisters," I continued. "Elena is twenty-eight, married to some tech billionaire. She'll be cold and judgmental, probably ask invasive questions about why someone like you would marry someone like me. Victoria is twenty-four, the baby. She's loud, dramatic, and will either flirt with you to annoy me or ignore you completely. Depends on her mood."
I paused, then added flatly, "And my mother, Celine Astor. She'll be there, smiling like the perfect hostess while quietly calculating how this marriage affects the family image. She gave up trying to fix me a long time ago."
Dashiell was quiet for a moment, processing. "Um… okay."
I glanced at him again. He looked slightly overwhelmed, fingers now gripping the edge of his seat.
He shifted again, wincing slightly. "So… no one is going to be happy about this, right?"
"Correct," I said without hesitation. "They'll smile because it's expected. They'll ask polite questions. But they all think I'm a heartless robot who doesn't deserve anyone, especially not one who looks like you. They know it's a business arrangement or that you're being used."
"Expect passive-aggressive comments wrapped in politeness," I continued bluntly. "Subtle jabs at your background. They'll smile the entire time so don't bother trying to impress them, it's pointless. Just be yourself. They'll either find you entertaining or worthless."
Dashiell swallowed visibly. "Great. Sounds fun."
I turned to look at him fully for a second, letting my gaze drag over his flushed face and the high collar hiding my marks.
"Don't worry, little anomaly," I said, voice low. "If anyone makes you uncomfortable, I'll handle it. And if they bore me too much, we can leave early and I can fuck you in the car on the way home."
Dashiell made a strangled little noise, eyes widening. "Alexander!"
"What?" I asked innocently. "It's the truth. The dinner is a performance. The only part I'm looking forward to is peeling that suit off you later and reminding my little anomaly exactly who he belongs to."
He buried his face in his hands for a second, groaning. "You are the least romantic person on the planet."
"Romance is inefficient," I replied, turning onto the final stretch of the private road. The massive gates of the Astor estate loomed ahead, already opening for us. "But ownership? That I excel at."
Dashiell peeked at me through his fingers, equal parts horrified and flustered. "I'm starting to regret asking."
I smirked again. "Too late. We're here, little anomaly."
The car rolled smoothly up the long driveway toward the brightly lit mansion.