Chapter 10
The special car from the Tracey family had been waiting nearby. As soon as Cynthia got in the car, she leaned back, closed her eyes, and began to rest, determined to stop thinking about anything related to Alexander Lowell.
The driver of the Tracey family, warm and respectful, offered a brief explanation of what lay ahead.
“Miss Aquil, once we arrive at the airport, you’ll board the Tracey family’s private jet to Riverport. A professional styling team will be on board to help you change into your gown and do your makeup. You’ll also have time to rest during the flight. Everything is fully arranged-please just relax and enjoy the experience.”
“The plane will land directly at the wedding site. It’s going to be a grand, unforgettable ceremony.”
Cynthia gave a soft smile and nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate everything.”
At the exact moment the Tracy family’s private jet lifted off the runway, something in Alexander’s chest sank.
He stood on the hotel balcony, drink in hand, and looked instinctively toward the night sky.
A jet plane sliced through the darkness, a trail of light against the deep velvet. And for reasons he couldn’t name, a sharp
ache stirred in his chest.
Like something… had been lost forever.
“Cindy…” he murmured, almost unaware he had spoken her name aloud.
The night wind sobered him faster than any cold shower. The haze of alcohol that had begun to settle behind his eyes vanished completely.
Then he felt it-that unwelcome perfume-laced body pressing against his back.
He stepped forward immediately, instinctively avoiding the touch.
“There’s no need for this,” Alexander said coldly. He grabbed the wandering hand that had slipped under his shirt and yanked it away with force.
Morinne stumbled backward, caught off guard. Her expression was full of disbelief and rising frustration.
“Alex, we’re getting married tomorrow. Why are you still pushing me away?” she asked, voice cracking slightly, “Didn’t we
agree on this?”
She stomped her foot like a spoiled child, waiting for him to soften. But Alexander remained still, unmoved. His face was
carved from stone.
“Morinne,” he said slowly, each word cutting like ice, “I agreed to a contractual marriage. There is nothing in that contract that says we need to be physically involved.”
“I’ve told you before-I don’t believe in marriage. This wedding is happening for one reason only: to make Cynthia give up.”
“So remember your place. Don’t cross the line again.”
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a deadly calm.
“The consequences of breaking the contract… you wouldn’t want to find out.”
The temperature in the room plummeted.
The night air sliced across her bare shoulders-she’d only been wearing a thin satin slip dress, and now her body trembled
from both cold and fear.
When Cynthia was not around, Alexander’s expression held no warmth at all.
His eyes were as sharp and frigid as a blade. Not a single trace of tenderness remained.
Morinne immediately backed down.
“I… I won’t do it again,” she whispered.
She climbed quietly back into bed, pulling the comforter up to her chin, lying stiffly at the very edge of the king-sized mattress, not daring to inch any closer to him.
She didn’t know how long he stayed out on the balcony. By the time she drifted into an uneasy sleep, he hadn’t moved.
Even when they finally lay in the same bed, their bodies inches apart… they couldn’t have felt more like strangers.
The next morning, the door clicked softly as the styling team knocked:
Alexander’s eyes snapped open.
Without a word, he turned and gave the woman beside him a light push, without any emotion.
“Get up.”
They each dressed quickly and left the hotel room together, returning seamlessly to their rehearsed roles.
To anyone watching, they were the perfect couple: affectionate, elegant, in love.
But only Morinne knew the truth behind the illusion.
The man whose arm she now clung to had no warmth left for her. His heart was made of glass, iced over with resolve.
And so, she smiled-because she had no other choice.
Her mask of bliss was now sealed to her face, etched by necessity. But inside, all she tasted was bitterness.
Chapter 10
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