Chapter Twenty-One
Alicia's POV
The restaurant Malachi chose was elegant. Too elegant. The kind of place where everything on the menu cost more than my monthly grocery budget back when I was still trying to please Travis.
Soft jazz played in the background. Couples spoke in hushed tones around us, lost in their own little worlds.
And I was nervous. So nervous I could barely sit still.
"Relax," Malachi said, watching me fidget with my napkin. "It's just dinner."
Just dinner. With him. Alone. In a romantic restaurant where everyone probably thought we were a couple.
My stomach twisted.
The waiter came and took our orders. Malachi chose without looking at the menu, like he'd been here a hundred times. I picked something at random, too distracted to actually read the descriptions.
The food arrived faster than I expected. Perfectly plated. Beautiful portions that looked almost too good to eat.
But I was starving.
I'd skipped lunch, too busy handling meetings and pretending I wasn't thinking about where Malachi had disappeared to. Now my stomach was demanding payment.
I picked up my fork and started eating. The food was incredible. Rich flavors that melted on my tongue. I tried to eat slowly, tried to be elegant and proper.
But halfway through, I gave up. I was too hungry to care about appearances.
I could feel Malachi's eyes on me the entire time. Not judging. Just watching. Like everything I did was fascinating to him.
It made my skin prickle with awareness.
"So," he said after a while, "tell me something about yourself."
I looked up, surprised. "Like what?"
"Anything. Your favorite color. Your favorite food. What you wanted to be when you were a child."
Simple questions. Normal questions. The kind people asked when they actually cared about the answers.
Travis had never asked me any of those things.
"Blue," I said quietly. "My favorite color is blue. Like the ocean."
"Have you seen the ocean?"
"Once. When I was eight. My mother took me and my sister to the coast for a weekend. It was one of the happiest memories I have."
Malachi leaned forward slightly. "And your favorite food?"
"Strawberry cake. The kind with fresh strawberries and cream."
"I'll remember that."
The way he said it made my heart skip. Like he was filing the information away for later. Like it mattered.
"And what did you want to be when you were a child?" he asked.
I smiled, remembering. "A florist. I wanted to own a flower shop. Surrounded by beautiful things all day. Making people happy with bouquets and arrangements."
"That suits you."
"Does it?"
"Yes. You have gentle hands. A gentle soul." His eyes darkened. "Even after everything this family has done to you."
The conversation shifted then. He started talking about relationships. About being with someone. About what it meant to truly care for another person.
I felt the walls closing in.
"I need to use the restroom," I said abruptly, standing up.
"Alicia—"
"I'll be right back."
I practically fled to the bathroom, my heart pounding. Why did he have to talk about things like that? Why did he have to make me feel things I had no business feeling?
The bathroom was elegant. Everything in it looked expensive. A woman stood at the mirror, carefully applying red lipstick.
I went to the sink next to her and splashed cold water on my face, trying to calm down.
"That's a beautiful dress," the woman said, smiling at me in the mirror.
I glanced down at my navy blouse and black pants. Nothing special. "Thank you."
"You look lovely."
"Thanks. You too."
She went back to her lipstick, and I dried my hands.
Then the door burst open.
A woman in a sharp business suit stormed in, her face twisted with rage. She grabbed the woman next to me by the hair and yanked her away from the mirror.
"You bitch!" the suit woman screamed. "You think I don't know? You think I'm stupid?"
The lipstick woman tried to pull away, but the grip was too strong. "Let go! You're hurting me!"
"Hurting you?" The suit woman laughed bitterly. "You're sleeping with my husband and you want to talk about hurt?"
My eyes widened. Oh God.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" the lipstick woman protested.
"Liar!" The suit woman slapped her across the face. Hard. The sound echoed off the marble walls.
I stood frozen, not knowing what to do.
The suit woman dragged the other woman toward the door, still gripping her hair. "Anyone tries to stop me, you're next!"
No one moved. No one said anything. We all just watched as she dragged the crying woman out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of smeared lipstick and broken dignity behind.
The door swung shut. Silence fell.
Another woman whispered to her friend, "That's Mrs. Chen. Her husband is President Chen of Chen Industries. I never thought he'd be a cheater."
"Men with power always are," her friend replied.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My face was pale. My hands were shaking.
Travis.
He'd cheated on me long before I caught him with Bianca in the study. I'd always known. The late nights. The perfume that wasn't mine. The way he'd look at me with disgust, like I was the problem. Like I was the reason he couldn't be faithful.
He never asked about my favorite color. Never cared what I wanted to be. Never noticed how sensitive I was to harsh words and rough touches.
My first year in the Blackwood mansion had been hell. The family treated me like I was invisible. Layla would scream at me whenever I tried to report Travis's behavior. She'd call me dramatic. Attention-seeking. A liar.
No one protected me. No one cared.
Pa Blackwood was kind, but he was also absent. He'd left for a long vacation with Travis's father, leaving me alone with wolves.
By my second year, I'd learned to survive. I built walls around myself. Became cold. Unfeeling. If they wanted a ghost, I'd become one.
Now, I didn't care what happened to most of them. They could all burn for all I cared.
But Malachi...
Malachi was different. And that terrified me.
Because despite everything I'd learned about men and marriage and betrayal, he'd somehow become important to me. He'd slipped past my defenses when I wasn't looking.
And that made me sad. So deeply sad.
Because this couldn't end well. It couldn't. I was married to his brother. I was planning to divorce and disappear. There was no future here.
No matter how much I wanted there to be.
I finished washing my hands and took a deep breath. Then I walked back to our table.
Malachi looked up when he saw me, concern flashing across his face. "Are you okay? You look pale."
"I'm fine." I grabbed my purse. "But I need to go. I'm sorry. I just... I need to leave."
"Alicia, what happened?"
"Nothing. Everything. I don't know." I was rambling. "Thank you for dinner. It was lovely. But I have to go."
I turned toward the exit, my vision blurring with tears I refused to let fall.
Behind me, I heard Malachi call my name. But I didn't stop.
I couldn't.
Because if I stayed, if I let him see how much he affected me, I'd never be able to leave.
And leaving was the only option I had left.