Page 9 of Her Possessive Dominant Fake Husband

A flicker of heat curled at the base of my throat, but before I could react, Alexander was already rising. His chair scraped against the floor, the sound slicing through the hush that followed.

"Claire has proven herself beyond question," Alexander said. His voice was measured steel, cold enough to burn, sharp enough to cut.

The room sat stunned, and I didn’t know what was going on. Alexander, ever calculated, was not a man prone to displays of emotion. And yet, here he was, positioning himself like a shield between me and the man making underhanded comments about me.

I wasn’t sure if I should be grateful or worried that he’d gone this far.

A year of playing house with Alexander would be anything but dull.

The table sat silent, stunned by Alexander’s comment. His words were a verbal fencing match with a partner who bowed out of the fight without further comment.

I had thought Alexander’s only weapon was his cold indifference, but here was a different side of him altogether. Eyes shifted from me to him and back again.

I glanced around, seeing the confusion etched on the faces of his associates. Alexander had marked me as his own, at least for now, and no one dared dispute it. A strange mix of emotions washed over me.

Alexander remained standing, watching the room with hawk-like precision, ready to attack any further threats to his carefully constructed façade. I wondered if I would ever see the true man beneath the armor. This brief display had left me as breathless as the sharp kiss of winter air.

As the tension dissipated, low conversations resumed, voices hushed and muted. My hand shook slightly as I reached for a glass someone had placed before me, the clinking ice lending a much-needed sense of normalcy to the moment. I couldn’t help but feel that this game he was playing was more complex than I'd imagined, and I was far from knowing all the rules.

Finally, he sat down beside me after a long gap, his demeanor was composed but his eyes were still burning. I stole a glance, and our eyes locked, a silent agreement passed between us. And now I knew I didn’t have to deal with these kinds of situations alone. We were in this together, for better or worse. I just had to figure out how to keep pace with the man who always seemed several steps ahead.

Another sip of water steadied me, the ice clicking against the glass as I swallowed the moment down with practiced ease. The tension had loosened its grip on the room, but Alexander’s words bounced around my skull.

I turned slightly, my gaze landing on the man whose backhanded compliment had started it all. His mouth twisted into something resembling a smirk, though the weight of Alexander’s earlier reprimand had dulled its edge. His attention flickered to me once more—curious, cautious, perhaps even intrigued.

I smiled, bright and effortless, as if none of it had fazed me in the slightest. “Adaptation is an underrated skill, don’t you think?” My voice was light, conversational, laced with the warmth of someone who hadn’t just been insulted but rather invited into an intellectual discussion. “After all, unpredictability is the only certainty in life. I find it’s better to embrace change than fight it.”

The man hesitated, his confidence wavering beneath the weight of my response. He had expected discomfort—maybe silence, maybe a stumble, or for me to say something sharp back. But instead, I had turned his words into something more palatable, something he couldn't easily twist back into insult.

“I suppose that’s true,” he said, recovering just enough to play along. “Though not everyone adjusts so seamlessly.”

I leaned in slightly, tilting my head with an easy curiosity. “And yet, here we are, sharing a meal and good company. That seems seamless enough to me.”

His lips parted as if searching for some clever snub, but I had already returned my attention to my meal, effectively dismissing whatever response he might have had. The conversation had been mine to end, and I had done so with all the grace expected of me.

Alexander, still watching, smirked just barely, the kind of expression that was gone as soon as it arrived. I didn’t know whether it was amusement or approval, but I didn’t linger on it. I had held my ground, kept the game in motion, and I had done it with a smile.

As the meal wrapped up, Alexander rose from his seat, signaling the end. I followed suit, offering a polite smile to everyone. “Thank you, it was a pleasure meeting you all,” I said, keeping my voice warm and steady. A few firm handshakes followed, while others simply nodded back with courteous smiles.

“Let’s go home, Claire.”

I looked at him, confused. Wasn’t he going back to work after lunch?

“I don’t have any meetings pending today,” he said, as if he could read my mind.

He placed a light guiding hand on my back, the quiet authority in his gesture making it clear—the performance was over, for now.

The driver was waiting for us outside the office. We slipped into the backseat of the car, the door clicking shut behind us. The ride was quiet—Alexander was preoccupied witha string of work-related calls, his tone clipped and focused. I sat beside him, staring out the window, the hum of his voice a distant backdrop to my swirling thoughts. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable but we still had to pretend like real husband and wife because of the driver.

What if he got to know and told everyone? There was no need to take that risk.

After about forty to forty-five minutes, we reached back home. The penthouse door closed behind us, closing us off from the outside world. I collapsed onto the sofa, losing myself in its soft leather folds, my mind still swirling with the craziness of the business lunch. The food had been amazing, the company mixed, and my attitude upbeat and unbreakable.

Still, each passing moment with Alexander seemed to peel back another layer of who he was—and who I was supposed to be.

The soft click of the balcony doors drew my attention. Alexander’s silhouette cut through the dying light, and I found myself unable to look away from him. "Are you all right?" he asked, and I wasn't sure how to answer.

I looked at him, his presence both daunting and strangely reassuring. "That was... unexpected," I finally said, trying to gauge his reaction.

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