The silence in the Bentley on the way back from the clinic was heavier than usual. Nicole leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, her hand resting protectively over her stomach. The scare was over—the doctors had confirmed it was a false alarm caused by extreme stress and a reaction to the sudden change in her diet—but the emotional toll remained.
Alex sat beside her, his silhouette sharp against the passing streetlights. He hadn't said a word since they left the hospital. He didn't ask how she felt. He didn't even look at her. He was simply... there.
"You're thinking about the merger," Nicole said softly, breaking the quiet.
Alex didn't turn his head. "I'm thinking about the fact that my heir's heart rate spiked because you decided to indulge a whim. From now on, your cravings will be vetted by the nutritionist. No more street food. No more Maya."
"It wasn't a whim, Alex. I was lonely," she whispered.
He finally looked at her, his eyes like gray glass. "You have a staff of twenty and a medical team. You are not lonely, Nicole. You are bored. There is a difference."
Nicole felt a surge of frustration, but underneath it, a strange, aching pull. Despite his coldness, he was the only person who knew the truth of her situation. He was the father of the lives inside her. As the car pulled into the mansion's darkened drive, she realized she didn't want to go back to her empty, floral-scented room.
When they reached the top of the grand staircase, Alex paused. "Go to sleep, Nicole. The doctor will be here at 7:00 AM."
He turned to head toward his private wing, but Nicole reached out. Her fingers brushed the fine wool of his suit jacket. He stopped, looking down at her hand as if it were a strange insect.
"Alex, stay," she said, her voice trembling. "Just for a few minutes. I don't want to be alone tonight."
"I have work to finish," he replied, his tone flat.
"I'm not asking as a business partner," Nicole said, stepping closer. The scent of him—something like rain and expensive tobacco—filled her senses. "I'm asking as... as the mother of your children. I need to feel like I'm not just a project. I need to feel human."
She saw his throat move as he swallowed. For a heartbeat, his icy gaze softened. He sighed, a sound of pure exhaustion, and followed her into her room.
Nicole sat on the edge of the bed, the moonlight spilling across the floor. Alex stood by the fireplace, keeping a careful distance. The space between them felt charged, a tension that had been building since the first day they met.
"Maya told me I should hate you," Nicole said, looking at her lap. "She said you're a machine. But I saw your face in the kitchen when you thought something was wrong. You were scared."
"I was concerned for my legacy," Alex said, though the words lacked their usual bite.
Nicole stood up and walked toward him. She was tired of the distance. She was tired of being a "vessel." As she stood in front of him, she realized she was falling—not for the "Ice King" image, but for the man who carried her when she couldn't walk.
"Then touch your legacy," she whispered, taking his hand and placing it firmly against her stomach.
Alex froze. His palm was large and warm, and through the thin silk of her gown, Nicole felt a jolt of electricity. His eyes locked onto hers, and for the first time, he wasn't looking through her. He was seeing her.
"They're moving," he breathed, his voice barely audible.
"They want their father to acknowledge them," Nicole said. She leaned in, her forehead resting against his chest. "And I want you to acknowledge me. Just once, Alex. Don't look at me like a contract. Touch me because you want to."
His other hand came up, hovering near her waist before finally settling there. It wasn't a romantic embrace—it was hesitant, almost clinical—but to Nicole, it felt like fire. She looked up at him, her lips parted, her heart screaming for him to close the gap.
Alex leaned down, his breath warm on her skin. His eyes searched hers, a storm of conflict swirling in the gray. He wanted to pull away; she could feel it in the tension of his muscles. But he didn't.
Just as his lips brushed against hers—a ghost of a kiss that made her knees weak—his phone vibrated violently in his pocket.
The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room. Alex recoiled instantly, the walls of ice slamming back into place. He pulled his hands away as if he'd been burned and stepped back, pulling the phone out.
He stared at the screen, his face turning a sickly shade of gray.
"What is it?" Nicole asked, breathless and confused.
Alex didn't look at her. He walked toward the door, his voice returning to its robotic, chilling tone. "The blood work from the clinic just came back. The labs were rerouted through a private server."
He stopped at the door, his back to her. "The twins are healthy, Nicole. But the DNA markers... they found a third signature in your blood. Something that shouldn't be there unless you've been taking something you haven't told me about."
He turned his head slightly, his profile sharp and terrifying. "Who gave you the burger Nicole?