My Soul 18

Chapter 18 

Alexander Lowell’s eyes never left Cynthia Aquil. 

There was something different about her. 

Her lips were a shade too red-like they’d been kissed senseless. The collar of her satin sleepwear dipped just enough to reveal a sliver of porcelain skin, now marked with the unmistakable traces of a man’s passionate imprint. 

Her expression, the shimmer in her eyes, the lazy sensuality between her brows-it all spoke volumes. She’d given herself 

to someone. 

His gaze snapped to Nathan Tracey. That look of proud contentment on Nate’s face confirmed everything. 

Their fingers were tightly entwined. Their bodies leaned into each other like there was no space between their hearts, only an unspoken intimacy no outsider could intrude upon. 

Everything between them had already happened. 

He was too late. 

Alexander staggered back a few steps, stunned into silence, unable to process what he was seeing. His face went ghostly pale, but his eyes still burned with stubborn resolve. 

“Cindy, I didn’t marry Morinne. I never will. She was just a stand-in, a tool to get others off my back. The only one I’ve ever loved is you!” His voice rang out like a gunshot, filled with desperate conviction. 

Cynthia froze. But instead of joy, all she felt was a bitter, surreal absurdity. 

She let out a soft, dry laugh. “Uncle Alex, don’t joke like that. There’s no need to test me again. I’ve already stopped loving you. Did you get the gift I sent you and your bride? Did she like it?” 

She didn’t believe him. Not even for a second. 

He had never truly loved her-everything he did for her had always been under the guise of being a guardian, a father 

figure. Nothing more. 

Because if you really loved someone, how could you bear to hurt them like that? 

Cynthia would never let the person she loved suffer. That was the difference. 

So she held firmer to Nathan’s hand, convinced that this was just another one of Alexander’s twisted “tests.” 

Why else would he abandon his wedding to chase after her? 

She said nothing more, just tightened her grip around Nathan’s hand, grounding herself in the solid warmth of his touch. 

“Uncle Alex,” Nathan said calmly, his voice steady but laced with warning, “Cindy is my wife now. This joke has gone far enough.” 

As he spoke, he reached into his pocket and pulled out their marriage license. The parchment cover gleamed under the lights. The official signature was undeniable. And the photo of the two of them-smiling, glowing-radiated authenticity. 

Alexander stared at it like it had personally stabbed him in the heart. 

Married? They were actually married? 

“No,” he muttered. “No. Cindy, come with me. I’ll find someone to annul it. You don’t love him-you love me. You’ve always 

Chapter 18 

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loved me! I didn’t marry Morinne, I won’t! We can still be together. We can get married today, right now, just say the word!” 

He snapped. All sense left him as he lunged forward and grabbed Cynthia’s wrist, yanking her toward the door. 

His grip was iron-tight, bruising her delicate skin with no regard for her struggle or pain. He dragged her like a man possessed. 

“Uncle Alex! Alexander! I don’t love you anymore-I haven’t for a long time!” 

Cynthia screamed, thrashing against his hold, her voice raw with desperation. 

In that moment, Nathan’s usual gentle demeanor vanished. His eyes turned cold, sharp with fury. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and seized Alexander’s arm, twisting it with a brutal crack. 

The sound of bones snapping echoed in the room. Alexander’s grip loosened, and Cynthia fell back into freedom. 

But the fight was far from over. 

The two men collided like wild animals. Every punch and kick was aimed to hurt, to destroy.