Chapter 121
Ivan – POV
I should've known this was coming.
As I lie in bed now, breath barely recovered, Zander wipes me down with all the tenderness of someone who's just spent the past hour utterly wrecking me.
He came home like a man possessed—no preamble, no warning—turned me against the wall, whispered something sinful in my ear, and took me apart like I was made for him.
Carried me to bed like I weighed nothing. Did it again. And again. And again.
I knew I shouldn't have provoked him.
But what can I say? I love the punishment just as much as he loves giving it.
Now he's finally still beside me, warm and heavy, his arm curled around me like a shield.
He pulls me close until I'm half sprawled across his chest, head tucked beneath his chin.
It's almost funny—the way he always has to be touching me in sleep, like if he lets go I'll disappear.
Like I'm not already his.
I draw slow, lazy circles over his chest, his skin flushed and sticky with sweat. My fingers drift, flicking one of his nipples just to be annoying.
"Ivan," he says, voice a low warning.
"Hmm?" I hum, pretending innocence.
"Behave," he murmurs, and I snicker.
I glance down at the ring on my finger, the band glinting faintly in the moonlight spilling through the curtains. It's beautiful. Subtle, but weighty. Like him.
And then, quietly—
"Are you okay with treating them like that?"
He shifts beneath me. "Who?"
"Your family."
He exhales, like he'd hoped I wouldn't bring it up.
Personally I don't know much about family, not in this life, not the previous one, it's probably why I've always needed and craved to start my own.
"You've met my family," he says. "My real family. Jeremy—my omega father—is the only one whose opinion has ever mattered. The rest? They're nothing but blood and cruelty."
I hesitate. "You never talk about your alpha father. I mean… if it's too hard, you don't have to."
He's quiet for a beat. Then—
"It's okay," he says, voice low and raw. "My alpha father… wasn't fit for the Vales. And my grandfather despised him for it."
I look up, and Zander's eyes are distant, lost in some old place I can't reach.
"From what I was told, he had a kind heart. A strong moral compass. Too strong. Grandfather tried to break it—tried everything. Physical, psychological. Whatever it took to mold him into a proper Vale."
My stomach twists.
"When he was a teen, he pretended. Learned to fake it well enough to survive. And when they trusted him—at twenty-four—he ran. Just disappeared. Vanished from every record. Became a ghost."
His fingers curl slightly over my waist, protective even now.
"He traveled from place to place—remote towns, islands—anywhere no one could recognize him. And somewhere along the way… he found Jeremy. And he stayed."
The ache in his voice deepens.
"But one day, a villager got sick. A group of them—including my parents and me—rushed them to the mainland hospital. The cameras caught his face. And then mine. And that was it. At twelve, my childhood ended. Men in black suits came. Took us."
He closes his eyes.
"I won't go into the details, but… my alpha father didn't survive. Suicide. The only act of defiance he had left."
A lump forms in my throat. I squeeze his hand.
"I stayed," he continues, eyes still closed. "Because they threatened to take Jeremy from me too. Said they'd find him. Hurt him. I was twelve. One father gone—I couldn't lose the other. So I became what they wanted. The heir my alpha father couldn't be."
There's so much grief in his voice. Old and deep and layered like scar tissue.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper, because I don't know what else to say. Words feel so small.
He turns his head, brushing his lips against my temple.
"It's okay," he says. "Before I met you, life was just black and white. Revenge was all I had. I was going to destroy everything Grandfather prides in. Tear the empire down. But it's not that simple."
He gives a hollow laugh.
"Vale isn't just a company. It's a shadow—tangled in governments, entertainment, wars, conglomerates that pretend to compete but are really under the same umbrella. Millions of jobs. Billions of dollars. Generations of power."
He sighs.
"I've spent years calculating, planning. And then you walked into my life and gave me something else to want. Something real."
I lift my head and look at him.
"If I ran away with you," he continues, "you'd never be able to model again. We'd have to live in hiding. That's no life. Not for you. Not for our future kids. But this?" He smiles, faint but sincere. "You being mine—publicly, boldly, unapologetically—you are the biggest 'fuck you' I could ever give that man."
"I love you," he murmurs, brushing his nose against mine, "and he hates you."
He grins. "It's a win-win."