Chapter 170

Ella POV

By the time we returned to the apartment, Alexander was noticeably agitated. Seeing him in such a state did absolutely nothing to calm my own nerves.

“It’s David, isn’t it?” I asked as Alexander closed the door behind us.

He looked at me, startled for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so,” he said. “I don’t see how David could be responsible at this point.”

I chewed my lip nervously and shook my head. “A few people have warned me that there’s something more going on here,” I confessed. “That David is just being used by someone even more dangerous. Do you think this could be related?”

“I think that’s more likely,” Alexander confirmed.

“But who?” I demanded. “Who could possibly be doing all of this, and why? Why are they so determined to get rid of me? I’m not that important, and my father’s not that powerful. It’s an overreaction at best!”

“I truly don’t know,” Alexander said, his voice calm but firm. He stepped closer, lightly gripping my elbows as he pulled me into a hug. “Take a deep breath,” he said gently.

I wanted to argue, but his words made me realize I was gasping, on the edge of panic.

I forced myself to take a few deep breaths, leaning heavily against Alexander as I let his steady presence soothe me.

“I know this is frightening,” he said softly, “but I’m going to take care of it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, pulling away from the embrace to look up at him.

There was a hard, serious expression on his face that sent a chill through me. Alexander released me and repeated, his tone resolute, “I’m going to take care of it.”

I shook my head, my chest tightening. “You’re not making any sense,” I said. “This isn’t your problem. You can’t just run off on your own—”

The sudden ring of Alexander’s phone cut me off. I recognized the tone immediately: August.

“You’re not going to run off,” I said, my voice tinged with disbelief.

“I have work to do,” he said simply, avoiding my eyes.

“Don’t lie to me!” I said angrily, my voice rising despite my best efforts to stay calm. “I can’t believe you would do this. I’m the one receiving these messages. I’m the one being drawn into this trap, and yet you think it’s okay to run off and handle it on your own—without even telling me what’s really going on?”

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Alexander said dismissively, his tone cool and detached.

His words were like a slap in the face, igniting a white-hot anger that surged through me.

I thought we were past this. I thought that at this point, Alexander and I were truly allies. That I’d proven myself to him. That I had his trust and confidence.

But no—he was still hiding something.

And it wasn’t something innocent or irrelevant, something I could brush off as none of my business. This was my business. It involved me—affected me directly—and yet he still didn’t respect me enough to be honest.

The anger burned brighter, eclipsing every other emotion.

Alexander’s phone continued to ring, its insistent tone cutting through the tense silence between us, but he didn’t answer it. He just stared at me, his expression frustratingly blank.

I couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all.

For the first time, I felt like I didn’t even recognize him.

“What do you need me to say?” Alexander asked, his voice low but tense.

I scoffed. “What?”

“What do you need me to say for you to calm down and let me get to work?”

“How dare you speak to me like that,” I said softly, my voice trembling with restrained anger as my fists clenched at my sides. “How dare you talk to me like I’m some spoiled child throwing a fit.”

“I don’t think that,” Alexander replied, his tone unnervingly calm. “But I need to get to work and handle this situation before it escalates. You’re upset, but I don’t have time—”

“To what?” I cut him off, my voice rising. “To talk to me? To tell me the truth? Just how much are you hiding, Alexander, that you don’t have time to confess?”

“This is ridiculous,” he said sharply, his calm demeanor cracking as he turned away from me. Without another word, he answered his phone.

I stood there, shaking with rage, every nerve in my body screaming at me to lunge forward and knock the phone out of his hand. But I held back.

Instead, I spun on my heel and marched to the bedroom.

Once inside, I threw myself onto the bed, pressed my face into the pillow, and screamed at the top of my lungs.

I had tried to convince myself that Alexander was entitled to his secrets, that it didn’t matter to me. But it was a lie. I wanted to know everything about him, to unravel the mystery he carried, but deep down, I knew that would never happen.

Our connection wasn’t real—not entirely. The distance between us would always remain.

But this was different. My life could be on the line, and whatever he was hiding from me couldn’t stay hidden anymore.

“Ella,” Alexander called from the doorway, his voice low.

I hugged the pillow tightly to my chest and didn’t answer.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said softly. “I promise.”

“Fine,” I said weakly, my voice barely audible.

He hesitated, standing there for a moment as if he wanted to say more. Then, with a resigned sigh, he turned and walked away. I held my breath, listening to the sound of his footsteps fading across the apartment. A moment later, the door clicked shut.

Once he was gone, I sat up in the bed, my chest tight with frustration. I had to do something—I just didn’t know what. The helplessness clawed at me, making me feel angry and miserable.

“I’m not powerless,” I whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it true.

If Alexander wasn’t going to tell me what was going on, I’d have to find out for myself.

I got up from the bed and walked back into the living room. The space felt cold and impersonal, offering no clues to the man I’d married. Alexander’s apartment was as guarded as he was—no family photos, no sentimental keepsakes, nothing that might hint at who he really was.

My eyes landed on a tall, slim bookshelf in one corner of the room. It was the only thing that seemed out of place in the sleek, minimalist decor. I approached it, scanning the spines of the books.

Each was in pristine condition, their covers uncreased, as if they had been bought but never read.

On the top shelf, just out of my reach, was a small box. It caught my attention immediately. It was cardboard with wear around the edge of the lid. It wasn’t like anything else in the apartment.

I stood on my tiptoes, stretching as far as I could, but my fingers barely grazed the edge. I hopped up, trying to get a grip.

The box moved slightly closer to the edge. I jumped again, this time I knocked the box off balance and it fell off of the shelf, toppling onto the floor and spilling its contents across the ground.

I looked down at box with a guilty feeling growing, but I forced it down. This could be a matter of life and death. I had to know what was going on. I had to know what he was hiding.

With one deep breath, I steeled my nerves and bent to search through the contents of the box.