Chapter 65: It was you, not Mateo
Isabella's POV
Alex didn't move for a moment. His hands were in his pockets, expression unreadable, that same careless mask he always wore when he didn't want me to see what he was thinking. But I saw it anyway the tension around his jaw, the flicker in his eyes when Ethan had looked at him before scurrying away.
"Come in," he said quietly, pushing the door wider.
I stepped inside. His room was the same as I remembered, subtle chaos disguised as order. Books stacked beside his bed, cigarette box half open on the desk, his navy blazer draped carelessly over a chair. The faint smell of smoke and something warmer, his cologne, clean and heavy like cedarwood hung in the air.
He shut the door, turned, and leaned against it.
I folded my arms and gave him a glare "Are you going to explain," I asked, "or do I have to drag it out of you?"
