CHAPTER NINE — THE STORM BEHIND HIS EYES
The rain started before dawn, a thin drizzle tapping against the tall windows of Alexander's penthouse. Charlotte woke to the muted sound of it, the soft echo of distant thunder. For a moment she lay still, watching the ceiling, feeling the heaviness of last night's argument curled tight inside her chest.
She shifted, expecting to feel the warmth of Alexander beside her.
But the bed was cold.
Empty.
Silent.
Charlotte sat up slowly, clutching the blanket around her as she stared at the space he'd left. She didn't know whether the emptiness hurt more… or the reason behind it. She had pushed him last night. Harder than she planned. And he had walked out of the bedroom without a single glance back.
What did I expect?
He wasn't a man who lived on trust. Or softness. Or vulnerability.
He was a man who carried storms in his silence.
Charlotte slipped out of bed and wrapped herself in one of the house robes. The penthouse felt colder than usual. Not physically—but emotionally. Like something was changing, tightening, shifting under her feet. She walked into the living room where the chandelier lights flickered dimly, and the city stretched under the morning haze.
No Alexander.
The clock on the wall read barely 6 a.m.
Her gaze landed on the study door.
It was open.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped toward it.
Inside, she found him standing by the window, one hand pressed to the glass, shoulders stiff. He didn't turn around, not even when she entered quietly. His phone lay untouched on the desk. A half-finished glass of whiskey sat next to a pile of contracts.
She could almost feel the tension radiating from him.
"Alex…" she whispered.
"Don't," he said, voice low.
Charlotte flinched at the single, cold word. She stared at his back, the smooth lines of his suit, his rigid posture. Something about it felt different from his usual controlled self. He looked… wounded. But trying to hide it behind that iron-hard exterior.
She stepped closer. "You didn't sleep."
He closed his eyes briefly. "I couldn't."
"Because of last night?"
Silence.
Charlotte's heart twisted.
"You said you were done pretending," he said finally. "That you wanted to understand the man behind the contract. The man I was before revenge became the only thing keeping me upright."
She swallowed. "I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just wanted honesty."
"You want honesty?" He turned slowly, his eyes burning with an emotion she couldn't read. "Honesty requires trust. And trust requires something I have not been allowed to give anyone for years."
She took a breath. "I'm not your enemy."
"That's the problem, Charlotte." He stepped closer. "I don't know what you are anymore."
Her chest tightened painfully. "Why does it matter? You're the one who set the terms."
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached past her to shut the study door with a quiet click. The sound echoed through her spine.
When he looked at her again, something raw flickered in his eyes.
"It matters," he said quietly, "because somewhere along the line, you stopped being just a tool in my revenge."
Her breath hitched.
Alexander rarely admitted anything. And never anything this vulnerable.
He stepped closer, close enough for her to feel the heat of his body. Close enough for her heart to stumble.
"Charlotte," he murmured, "you're making me feel things I shouldn't. Things that interfere."
"With revenge?" she whispered.
"With control."
A thunderclap cracked outside, startling her. But Alexander didn't move. His gaze never left hers.
"What do you want from me?" she asked softly.
"I don't know," he admitted. "And that terrifies me."
Charlotte's lips parted, words failing her for a moment. Alexander wasn't a man who feared anything. But right now—standing inches away from her—he looked shaken, unmoored.
She dared to lift her hand, placing it gently against his chest.
His breath caught.
"I'm not here to destroy you," she said. "I'm trying to be on your side."
He stared at her hand, then at her face, eyes darkening. "And what if being on my side destroys you?"
"It won't."
"You don't know that."
"I do." She took a step closer. "Because you've never hurt me. Not really."
His jaw tightened. "Don't be so sure."
"Alex…"
"Charlotte," he interrupted sharply. "This contract—it was never supposed to become this. It was never supposed to complicate my life."
She looked at him with quiet strength. "But it already has. Denying it won't change anything."
He stared at her for a long moment, something shifting behind his eyes. Then he turned away, rubbing a hand across his face in frustration.
Charlotte hesitated before walking up behind him.
"Whatever you're afraid of… you can talk to me."
"No, I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because once I start," he said in a low, torn voice, "I won't be able to stop."
She wrapped her arms around him from behind. He stiffened. Then slowly, very slowly, his hands rested over hers.
"Then don't stop," she whispered.
His breath trembled—just enough for her to feel. The moment felt fragile. Dangerous. Honest.
The knock on the door shattered it.
Alexander froze.
Charlotte stepped back as he straightened, mask slamming down over his features. His voice returned to its usual cold edge.
"Come in."
The butler entered with a respectful bow. "Sir, the investigator you requested last week—he's here."
The room fell silent.
Charlotte felt the shift immediately.
Investigator?
Requested last week?
And Alexander's expression…
Dark. Calculated. Closed.
Her heart dropped.
"What… what investigator?" she asked quietly.
Alexander didn't look at her. "Charlotte. Go wait in the bedroom."
She blinked. "Why?"
"Because this isn't a conversation you should hear."
Her stomach tightened. "Alex—"
"Don't push me on this." His voice hardened dangerously. "Not now."
The wall between them slammed back into place.
Charlotte stepped away slowly, confusion twisting into fear. His tone wasn't angry—just icy. Final.
She opened the door, turned back once more, hoping he'd soften.
He didn't.
He wouldn't even look at her.
And as she walked out of the study, heart pounding, she couldn't help but wonder—
What exactly had he started investigating… and did it have anything to do with her?
—END OF CHAPTER 9—