Chapter 4 Chapter 4: Kiss Me

For several seconds, I could only stare at him. The photograph trembled between my fingers, its glossy surface catching the pale afternoon light. Behind Alexander, the city stretched beyond the terrace in a blur of glass and stone while the last trace of cigarette smoke dissolved into the wind.

"You keep saying someone tried to erase my life," I said. "You keep telling me I was in danger, yet every time I ask who did it, you refuse to answer."

Alexander's expression remained controlled, but his jaw tightened. "Because knowing too much before you are ready could put you in greater danger."

A bitter laugh slipped out."That sounds exactly like something Uncle Richard would say."

The accusation struck. I saw it in the brief hardening of his eyes.

"You both decide what I am allowed to know," I continued. "You both watch me, interfere with my choices, and call it protection."

"I have never pretended otherwise."

His honesty only sharpened my frustration. "Then, what makes you different?"

Alexander moved closer, stopping before the space between us disappeared completely. The scent of tobacco still clung faintly to his coat, mingling with the woody cologne that had unsettled me inside the elevator. "There is one choice I will never make for you," he said.

"What choice?"

"Whether you return to me."

The answer should have relieved me. Instead, it made the wedding photograph feel heavier in my hand.

"You speak as though you already know what I'll choose."

His gaze settled on my face with unnerving certainty. "I know what you chose before."

"That woman remembered you."

"She was still you."

"I don't know that."

Alexander's eyes darkened as I raised the photograph between us. In it, the woman wearing my face leaned into his arms as though there was nowhere else she would rather be.

"You keep behaving as though some part of me still belongs to you," I said.

His attention flicked toward my lips. "I never said you belonged to me."

"You didn't need to."

The muscles along his jaw shifted. "What do you want from me, Cornelia?"

My pulse beat harder. The question had been spoken quietly, yet something beneath his restraint made it feel dangerous. I should have demanded more answers or walked away before the strange familiarity between us confused me further. 

Instead, I heard myself say, "Kiss me."

Alexander became completely still.

The city noise below seemed to recede, leaving only the wind moving across the terrace and the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat.

"No."

The refusal startled me more than if he had immediately touched me.

"You watch me. You enter my home. You know where I am before I do." I stepped closer, . "Yet this is where you suddenly remember boundaries?"

"Watching you and taking advantage of you are not the same thing."

"I asked you."

"You do not remember what it means when I touch you."

"Perhaps, you're afraid."

His eyes narrowed. "Of you?"

"Of finding out that I feel nothing."

Something changed in his face. It was not anger, but the fracture of a restraint I had only begun to understand.

Alexander crossed the remaining distance between us. One hand rose to my jaw, his fingers settling along the side of my face while his thumb rested beneath my lower lip. His other hand curved around my waist, firm enough to hold me but not enough to prevent me from leaving.

The touch should have felt foreign, yet warmth spread beneath my skin with terrifying ease, and my breath caught as though my body had been waiting for him.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured.

The faint trace of tobacco lingered on his breath. I should have disliked it. Instead, I could think only of the heat of his palm and the way his fingers fitted against my jaw as if they had memorized its shape.

"I haven't asked you to begin yet," I muttered.

A dangerous softness entered his expression before Alexander lowered his mouth to mine. The first contact was almost unbearably careful. His lips brushed mine with such restraint that, for one suspended heartbeat, I felt nothing except surprise.

Then, my body answered. My fingers caught the front of his coat, pulling him closer before my mind could interfere. I rose onto my toes, and the instant I kissed him back, the control in his posture broke.

His arm tightened around my waist, drawing me against the hard line of his body. He tilted my face beneath his hand and deepened the kiss, no longer tentative but hungry in a way that stole the air from my lungs. The wedding photograph slipped from my fingers and fluttered onto the terrace.

Heat rushed through me. My hands moved from his coat to his shoulders and then into his hair with an instinct that frightened me more than my family's warnings.

I knew how to hold him. I knew the angle that made his breath catch and the sound he made when my fingers tightened at the back of his neck. The knowledge did not come from memory but from somewhere deeper.

Alexander backed me toward the stone wall beside the terrace doors, though he stopped before pinning me completely. Even while his mouth moved against mine with barely contained possession, he left enough space for me to pull away.

I did not.

For one blinding second, the terrace vanished. Cherry blossoms drifted beneath a moonlit sky. A silver ring slid over my finger. Alexander stood before me in a dark suit, his forehead resting against mine while I laughed through tears.

My own voice reached me from somewhere beyond the missing years. "Xander..."

I tore my mouth from his as the terrace returned with a rush of cold air. 

Alexander froze, his breathing uneven and his hand still firm around my waist as he stared at me.

"What did you call me?"

I could not answer. The vision had already begun to fade, leaving behind only petals, warmth, and the certainty that the name had once belonged naturally on my tongue.

My phone vibrated inside my handbag, breaking whatever remained between us. I stepped away, immediately missing the heat of his body. Alexander released me, though the reluctance in his hand was unmistakable.

An unknown number had sent me a photograph.

My blood turned cold when the image showed Alexander and me against the terrace wall, his hand at my jaw and my fingers buried in his hair. It had been taken only seconds earlier from a high angle somewhere across the courtyard.

A message appeared beneath it.

'Richard warned you to stay away from him.'

Before I could speak, another message arrived.

'He couldn't protect you the first time. He won't protect you now.'

Alexander took the phone from my hand. The softness the kiss had drawn from him disappeared as he studied the photograph, leaving his expression cold and unreadable.

"You're leaving with me."

"No."

His gaze snapped toward mine. "Someone close enough to photograph us just threatened you."

"And going somewhere alone with the man my family calls dangerous is supposed to make me safer?"

Alexander stepped closer, his hand returning to my waist as though the distance between us had become intolerable. "You asked me to kiss you, Cornelia. Do not confuse that choice with permission to gamble with your life."

"You don't get to command me because I kissed you."

"No." His grip tightened slightly. "I get to react because someone tried to kill my wife once, and I will not allow them another opportunity."

The possessiveness in his voice should have made me retreat. Instead, the memory of cherry blossoms pulsed painfully behind my eyes.

"Then find whoever took the photograph," I said. "But I'm not disappearing from campus because you ordered me to."

For several seconds, he looked ready to argue. Then, his mouth flattened. "You will use the private corridor. Two of my men will search the adjoining buildings, and I will walk you to your next class."

"Your men?"

"You did not believe I came here alone, did you?" He retrieved the wedding photograph from the ground, carefully brushing dust from its surface before slipping it back into the envelope. When he handed it to me, his fingers lingered against mine. "Whatever you remembered," he said quietly, "do not force it."

"I called you Xander."

A flicker of emotion crossed his face. "You did."

"Was that what I always called you?"

"Only when you loved me."

The words followed me through the private corridors long after Alexander had stepped away.

By the time I reached my next classroom, university security had sealed off the faculty terrace. Victor was nowhere in sight, and Alexander had disappeared as completely as he had after the elevator.

I took my seat near the back and opened my handbag. The wedding photograph rested inside, though I did not remember putting it there. For one hopeful second, I assumed Alexander had returned it while escorting me through the corridor.

Then, I saw the folded note tucked behind it.

The handwriting was not his.

Ask your husband what happened the night you tried to leave him.

My fingers went cold. Until that moment, I had believed the greatest danger lay in discovering that my family had lied about Alexander.

Now, I had to consider something far worse. Perhaps, they had not lied about everything.