*Maya's POV*
I ran down the dark hallway barefoot, my heart beating like a drum.
The screaming came again - louder, more desperate. It sounded like someone was dying.
My feet slipped on the cold marble floor as I turned the corner toward Alexander's bedroom. The screaming was definitely coming from behind his closed door.
What if someone had broken in? What if Alexander was being attacked?
I grabbed the door handle and twisted. Locked.
"Alexander!" I pounded on the door with both fists. "Alexander, are you okay?"
The screaming stopped suddenly, leaving a silence that was somehow worse.
I pressed my ear to the door, listening for any sound. Nothing.
Then I heard a crash, like something heavy hitting the floor.
That's when I stopped thinking and started acting on pure instinct.
I threw my whole body against the door. It didn't budge. I tried again, harder this time, ignoring the pain shooting through my shoulder.
On the third try, something gave way and the door flew open. I stumbled into Alexander's bedroom and nearly fell flat on my face.
The room was a mess. Blankets were tangled on the floor. A lamp lay broken beside the bed. Papers were scattered everywhere like a tornado had swept through.
And in the middle of it all was Alexander.
He was sitting on his bed in just pajama pants, his whole body shaking like he was freezing. His hair stuck up in wild directions, and his face was covered in sweat.
But it was his eyes that made my heart break.
Those ice-cold blue eyes that never showed emotion were now filled with pure terror. He looked like a little boy who'd just woken up from the worst nightmare in the world.
"No, no, no," he was whispering over and over. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me."
He was staring at something I couldn't see, talking to people who weren't there.
"Alexander?" I said softly, taking a step closer.
He didn't hear me. His eyes were open but he was still trapped in whatever horrible dream he'd been having.
"Mom? Dad?" His voice cracked like he was twelve years old again. "Where are you? I can't find you!"
My chest tightened. Alexander was dreaming about his parents. The ones who died in that car crash when he was a kid.
"Alexander, wake up." I moved closer to the bed. "You're safe. It's just a dream."
"The car's upside down," Alexander mumbled, tears streaming down his face. "There's so much blood. Why won't you answer me?"
I sat down carefully on the edge of his bed. "Alexander, listen to my voice. You're not in a car. You're at home."
"I tried to get them out," he continued, his voice breaking. "I tried to save them, but I was too small. Too weak."
Without thinking, I reached out and gently touched his shoulder.
The moment my hand made contact with his skin, Alexander's eyes snapped into focus. For a second, he looked confused about where he was.
Then he saw me sitting on his bed, and his face went from confused to furious in about two seconds.
"What are you doing in here?" He jerked away from my touch like it burned him.
"You were screaming. I thought someone was hurting you."
Alexander looked around at the destroyed room, then back at me. His cheeks turned red with embarrassment.
"Get out."
"Alexander, are you—"
"GET OUT!"
I scrambled off the bed, but I couldn't make myself leave. He looked so broken, so alone.
"You were having a nightmare about your parents," I said gently. "Maybe you want to talk about—"
"I don't want to talk about anything!" Alexander stood up and towered over me. "I want you out of my room. Now."
"I was just trying to help."
"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help."
"Everyone needs help sometimes."
"Not me." Alexander's voice was cold again, but I could see his hands shaking. "I've been taking care of myself since I was twelve years old. I don't need some girl I barely know feeling sorry for me."
The words stung, but I could see the pain hiding behind his anger.
"I don't feel sorry for you," I said. "I'm worried about you. There's a difference."
"Well, stop worrying. Save your concern for people who want it."
Alexander walked to his bedroom door and held it open. "Leave. And don't ever come in here again."
"What if you have another nightmare?"
"That's not your problem."
"We're married now. That makes it my problem."
Alexander laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "We're not married, Maya. We have a business contract. Don't confuse the two."
His words hit me like a slap. I knew our marriage wasn't real, but hearing him say it so cruelly made my chest ache.
"Fine," I said, walking toward the door. "But hiding from your pain isn't going to make it go away."
"My pain is none of your business."
"Maybe not. But when you're ready to stop pretending you don't have feelings, I'll be down the hall."
I walked out of his room with as much dignity as I could manage. But the moment I got back to my own room, I started crying.
I'd seen the real Alexander Kane tonight. Not the cold billionaire or the business robot. Just a scared, hurt man who missed his parents and blamed himself for not saving them.
But he'd rather suffer alone than let anyone help him.
I lay awake for the rest of the night, listening for more screaming. But Alexander's room stayed silent. Either he didn't have any more nightmares, or he'd learned to suffer through them quietly.
When my alarm went off at seven, I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. My eyes were puffy from crying, and my shoulder ached from throwing myself against Alexander's door.
I stumbled to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, trying to wake up. In a few hours, I'd have to go back to the hospital to check on Carlos. Then I'd have to pretend to be Alexander's happy wife at whatever event he dragged me to.
All while pretending I hadn't seen him crying for his dead parents in the middle of the night.
I opened my bedroom door to go downstairs for breakfast and almost stepped on something white on the floor.
An envelope with my name written in perfect handwriting.
My hands shook as I picked it up and opened it. Inside was a single piece of paper with a message that made my blood run cold:
*Stay away from my husband or you'll be sorry. This is your only warning. - Someone who cares about Alexander more than you ever could*
I read the note three times, my heart pounding harder each time.
Someone had been in this house. Someone had walked right up to my bedroom door while I was sleeping and left a threat.
But who? And how did they get in?
The house had security cameras and alarm systems. Alexander had told me yesterday that the place was like a fortress.
So either someone had broken in without setting off any alarms, or...
Or they had a key.
I thought about Isabella's fury yesterday at the hospital. Her perfect face twisted with rage as she screamed about Alexander being hers.
But how would Isabella get into Alexander's house? Unless...
Unless she'd been here before. Unless she still had a key from when they were together.
My hands were still shaking as I got dressed. Should I tell Alexander about the note? He'd made it pretty clear last night that he didn't want me involved in his personal life.
But this wasn't just about him anymore. Someone was threatening me.
I was folding the note to put in my pocket when I heard footsteps in the hallway.
"Mrs. Kane?" It was Maria, the housekeeper. "Mr. Kane would like to see you in his office before breakfast."
My stomach dropped. Was Alexander going to fire me? Send me away for breaking into his room?
"Did he say why?" I asked.
Maria shook her head, but her face looked worried. "He seemed... upset."
I followed Maria downstairs, the threatening note burning like fire in my pocket.
Alexander's office door was closed. I knocked softly.
"Come in."
Alexander was sitting behind his huge desk, looking perfectly put together again. His hair was neat, his suit was perfect, and his face showed no trace of the broken man I'd seen last night.
But when he looked up at me, his eyes were colder than I'd ever seen them.
"Sit down, Maya. We need to discuss what happened last night."
I sat down, clutching the note in my pocket.
"I want to make something very clear," Alexander continued. "What you saw last night never happened. Do you understand?"
"Alexander—"
"Do you understand?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"Good. It will never happen again. I'm having a new lock installed on my bedroom door today. A lock that only I have the key to."
He was shutting me out completely. Building even higher walls to keep everyone away.
"If you ever break into my room again," Alexander said in a voice that could freeze water, "our deal is off. Carlos's medical care stops. Your family gets nothing. And you'll be out on the street within an hour."
I wanted to tell him about the note. I wanted to warn him that someone was threatening me. But looking at his cold, angry face, I knew he wouldn't care.
In Alexander's world, I was just a business transaction. And business transactions didn't deserve protection from anonymous threats.
"I understand," I whispered.
"Excellent. Now, we have a charity dinner tonight. Be ready at six."
As I walked out of his office, the note seemed to burn hotter in my pocket.
Whoever had left it was still out there. Still watching. Still waiting.
And I was completely on my own.