Page 16 of Her Possessive Dominant Fake Husband

Jen recovered, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a defiance that didn’t quite mask the hesitation in her eyes. “Just a little sisterly chat. Right, Claire?”

I opened my mouth, ready to speak, to soften the edges of whatever came next, but Alexander’s words cut through the space between us.

“She doesn’t need this.” His tone was firm, like steel wrapped in velvet, and it sent a shiver through me that I couldn’t quite contain.

The confidence in Jen’s posture deflated, the arrogant gleam in her eyes dimming under the weight of Alexander’s insistence. For the first time, she seemed unsure, as if the reality of his resistance was really sinking in.

“I’m sure we can figure it out, Jen,” I said, my voice quieter than the reckless beat of my heart. “Later.”

Her gaze flickered between us, suspicion etching into her features, but Alexander’s presence left her with no ground to stand on. She hesitated, her lips parting to speak, but something in Alexander’s unwavering stare silenced her. I watched the tension between them stretch thin before it snapped and sent Jen back a step. Then another. Her mouth curved into a tight smile, more a challenge than an expression of warmth.

“Later, then,” Jen said, her words sharp and pointed, aimed to sting. “This should be interesting.”

We watched her leave, and I tried not to choke on her lingering defiance. I didn’t know what stunned me more—that she had backed down, or that Alexander had protected me.

I turned to him, finding the words felt as tangled as my emotions. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said, hating the tremble in my voice, the way it betrayed me like everything else.

He arched an eyebrow, and I saw the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Seemed like you could use the help.”

I shouldn’t let it get to me. Shouldn’t let his protection feel like safety I’d never let myself want. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t for me. But as we stood there, his gaze steady and relentless, it felt like the most real thing I’d ever known.

“Thanks,” I murmured, wishing I could sound more aloof, more in control. Instead, the word fell between us, heavy with unspoken questions.

Alexander shrugged, but there was a seriousness in his posture that made my pulse race. “I couldn’t let her bully you,” he said, and something raw and genuine in his words made my breath catch.

His nearness was dizzying. Unsettling. A thousand times worse than the demands Jen had thrown at me. But this—this feeling that unfurled inside me, something dangerously close to affection—was infinitely harder to fight.

I met his eyes, my whole body buzzing with an electric crackle that both warmed me and got my blood pumping faster. I gripped my coffee to my chest, imagining the touch of his hand at the small of my back, the warmth of his breath brushing against my ear. I hated that I wanted it. Hated that some desperate part of me wanted to lean into him, to see what happened if I let my defenses fall.

But I knew better. None of this was real. And with that, reality rushed back like a cold wind. I stepped away, wrenching myself back to reason, to the boundaries I couldn’t let blur.

“You’re good at this,” I said, in a whisper only he could hear, forcing a smile I didn’t feel, willing my heart to slow. “Convincing everyone it’s real.” Heck, in moments like this, he even convinced me, and I signed the contract.

He looked at me, a strange mix of surprise and something darker in his eyes. “Am I convincing you?” The question hit me hard. The thought that he was just playing with my heart hurt, and I welcomed that feeling, if only to put a little distance between us.

I held his gaze, refusing to let it go, refusing to let him see how deeply he’d unsettled me. “Sometimes.”

The word was a dangerous admission I probably shouldn’t have made. I forced myself to look away, to break the way everything about him tugged me in and threatened to undo me completely.

We left the café, side by side but miles apart, the silence heavy. I tried to remind myself of what this was. Of what this wasn’t. But with every step, with every quickened beat of my traitorous heart, the lines between those things blurred just a little more. I was going to get hurt. But it would hurt no matter what, so shouldn’t I enjoy things while I could?

A few days later, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing pop up on my phone. The headlines screamed at me like a thing alive, hungry and vicious, clawing their way under my skin with brutal words.

Alexander and I were frauds. I watched in stunned silence as the news seemed to cross every screen and device, a relentless storm of accusation. Gold-digger. Liar. Each headline another sharp cut. My chest constricted, the weight of our lie pressing hard against my lungs. Across the room, Alexander’s fury simmered, barely leashed, his eyes dark with rage and something else. Something dangerously like regret. I couldn’t let myself believe it was about me.

The articles were everywhere. The audacity of it was dizzying. I tried to breathe through the panic that tightened around me like a vise. Tried to tell myself it didn’t matter. That this was what I’d signed up for. But as each new notification flashed across the screen, I felt the fragility of our agreement tremble beneath the pressure.

“Ridiculous.” Alexander’s voice cut through the chaos, wrapped in unyielding iron. His anger radiated across the space between us, but I felt the protection in it. I felt his need to protect me, but knew there was nothing he could do.

Worse, I wanted to believe it. Wanted to think that his fury was for me, that he cared about the way this tangled lie wound its way around my heart like barbed wire. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let myself go there.

“They’ll regret this.” He said it with such dark certainty that it made my pulse skip. I could see the muscle in his jaw tighten, the rage turning to resolve, but it didn’t hide the shadows that crossed his eyes. I hoped I’d never be the target of his wrath, I’m not sure I could survive it.

I watched Alexander, felt the force of his determination, but under it all, there was something raw and human that took my breath away.

“Let’s go,” he said, voice firm, but the set of his shoulders was strained, the mask slipping. “We have a plan, it’s time.”

I knew exactly what he was talking about, and I steeled myself to prepare for the whispers, the accusations, the new headlines that would follow. Plus, I had to prepare to pretend to be a carefree couple in love.

---