Page 56 of Wicked God
From the start, I knew I was weaving a web of lies for Tiffany’s sake. But somewhere between fake smiles and real kisses, I forgot it was all pretend. Now, I wonder if this has been the biggest mistake of my life.
Chapter 25
Alexander
Women have come and gone in my life like seasons—predictable in their arrival and departure, rarely leaving a lasting impression. Two weeks, three months—none ever making it past the half-year mark. Except Elena. Three years of knowing exactly which buttons to push, which words would cut deepest.
Three years too many.
I push her manicured hands off my lapels. “I’m engaged,” I say firmly. “What we had is over. It’s time for you to move on.”
“You can’t marry her. She’s not what you need.”
“Elena,” I begin, weighing every syllable, “you and I had our time, but it’s over. For both our sakes, we have to let go.”
Her expression crumples. “We had something special. We had a connection no one else could understand.”
I take her hands in mine, trying to be gentle. “Elena, our past can’t change anything. I don’t want to hurt you, but we can’t go back.”
“But you swore marriage wasn’t for you. Now you’re putting a ring on someone else’s finger.”
“I found a reason to change my mind.”
Elena’s perfectly lined lips press into a thin white line. “So I was just a placeholder? Some warm body keeping your bed occupied until you found your real choice?”
“It’s been two years,” I say, exhaling slowly. “What we had ended long ago.”
“Ended?” The word catches in her throat. “You’re saying I meant nothing?”
“We would have destroyed each other,” I meet her gaze steadily. “This way, we both get a second chance.”
Her perfect features shift into something harder, more honest than I’ve seen in years. “You can’t rewrite our history that easily. We had plans, Alex. The merger, the campaign, the future your father has been crafting since we were children.”
“Plans other people made for us,” I counter. “Plans that benefited our families’ ambitions, not our happiness.”
“Happiness?” She almost spits the word. “Since when did a Hawthorne choose happiness over duty? Your father certainly didn’t. Neither did your grandfather.”
The city lights glitter below us, a carpet of artificial stars stretching to the horizon. I think of Olivia: how her eyes crinkle at the corners when she laughs, how she challenged me on our very first date about my family’s policy positions, how she never once asked about my net worth or political connections.
“I couldn’t go through with our engagement because you wanted more than I could give you,” I tell Elena, my voice softening slightly. “You wanted the Hawthorne name, theconnections, the power. But you never wanted me, not the real me.”
“And this girl, this nobody, she wants the ‘real you’?” Elena’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow arches in disbelief. “Please, Alex. She wants exactly what I wanted, she’s just less honest about it.”
My hands grip the stone balustrade, knuckles whitening. “Don’t talk about Olivia that way. You don’t know her.”
“I know her type,” Elena says, stepping closer again. “Swept off her feet by Alexander Hawthorne, dazzled by the estate, the parties, the promise of a life she’s only seen in magazines.” Her hand finds my arm again, fingers curling around my bicep. “She’ll never understand our world, Alex. She’ll never fit in.”
I look down at her hand, then deliberately remove it from my arm. “This is different,” I tell her, meeting her gaze directly. “What I have with Olivia is genuine. She sees past all of this—” I gesture toward the grand building behind us, “—to the person I actually am.”
“And who exactly is that?” Elena’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Because the Alex I know was born to this world. He understands the responsibilities that come with the Hawthorne name. He doesn’t throw away seven years of planning for some romantic fantasy.”
“Maybe that’s why it never worked between us. You never saw me as anything more than a Hawthorne.”
“Your father will never accept this. He thinks this is just a phase, Alex. A rebellion before you come to your senses.”
“Then he’s going to be disappointed.” I straighten my shoulders, feeling a weight lift as I finally say what I should have said months ago. “I’m not breaking things off with Olivia. I’m going to marry her, Elena. Not because it’s good business or smart politics, but because I’m falling for her. That’s where my future lies.” I turn away from her. “Enjoy the rest of the party, Elena.”
Ignoring Elena’s stunned expression, I step back into the glaring lights and noise of the ballroom. The orchestra has switched to something upbeat, and couples whirl across the dance floor while waiters weave between clusters of laughing guests with trays of champagne. None of it matters. I scan the sea of faces, looking for the only one I want to see.
