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But she’s gone.

And I’m here.

Alone.

Chapter 28

Be My Mistake

While my PR team’s approach was to deny, distance, and protect me, Alex’s PR team had a very different strategy, launching a calculated attack with surgical, efficient, and merciless precision. Within hours of my team issuing a carefully worded statement, his team had conveniently leaked images of Madison in dimly lit bars, tangled up with men who were most definitelynotAlex.

The narrative shifted, headlines morphing from speculation about Alex and me to brutal scrutiny over Madison’s indiscretions. Watching it unfold was surreal—how a life could be rewritten with a few well-placed photos and salacious headlines.

And while the public heat was off us for now, the underlying reality remained—Alex could still be the father of Madison’s baby.

I exhale, glancing up at Alex, who is leaning against the kitchen island, swirling whiskey in a glass.

“You okay?” he asks, voice low, watching me carefully.

I nod, setting my phone down with a shaky hand. “Yeah. I think.” The words stall, caught somewhere between my chestand throat. “It’s crazy how easy it is to manipulate what people think.”

Alex smirks, but there’s something weary underneath, like the mask he wears is starting to crack at the edges.

“Welcome to my world,Älskling,” he says softly.

I inhale slowly, trying to stay grounded.

His world.

A world I’m now fully entrenched in.

And yet, despite everything—the scrutiny, the turmoil, the gnawing uncertainty—I can’t help but feel a flash of gratitude that it’s a world he pulled me into.

“Alex, we still have a lot to talk about.” I sigh, staring down at my hands, the weight of everything pressing down on my shoulders.

“Nothing’s certain until I get that DNA result.” His voice drips with the deluded confidence of a man used to bending the world to his will. “They can’t do the test for another two weeks. I’d rather not stress about something that might not even be something to stress about.”

I nod, even though the words taste hollow in my mouth. This is bigger than me. Bigger than anything I’ve ever known how to handle.

My silence doesn’t go unnoticed.

Alex stands and crosses the small space between us, sitting down beside me.

He takes my hand in his, firm but gentle, grounding me with the heat of his touch.

“Talk to me. This only works if we talk, Darling,” he coaxes, his thumb brushing slow, tender circles over my knuckles, grounding me and setting my nerves on fire all at once.

After Sweden—after that earth-shattering experience where I had never felt more alive—coming back to this whirlwind feels like being torn apart piece by piece.

A small part of me wants to get off the ride. Retreat. But a bigger part of me…God, a bigger part of me isn’t ready to give this all up.

“Alex,” I breathe, barely above a whisper, my throat dry, raw. “I feel like I’m in free fall.”

His hand stills against mine, but he doesn’t let go.

His eyes lock onto me—sharp, unwavering.

He sees it all.