Chapter 225

Ella POV

The rooftop was bathed in the soft glow of city lights, the distant hum of activity below drowned out by music playing softly from unseen speakers. The air was cool, but the view more than made up for it.

As I sat at the table in the center of the roof, the patio heaters created a warm buble that I was happy to spend the evening in.

Alexander had gone all out. A beautifully set table stood between us, adorned with flickering candles and a meal that smelled divine.

A bottle of wine sat in a bucket of ice, the deep red liquid glistening in our glasses. It was perfect. It should have felt perfect.

But my mind was elsewhere.

This unexpected romantic gesture was sweet of him, but it felt wrong to be indulging when there was so much work for us to do.

I sighed, swirling my wine in its glass as I tried to focus, to be present. It had been days since we’d had a quiet moment together, and I wanted—desperately—to enjoy it.

But my thoughts kept circling back to everything that had happened, everything that was still happening.

Alexander studied me for a moment before reaching across the table to take my hand. His touch was warm, grounding. "Your mind is somewhere else," he said gently.

I gave him a small smile, knowing I wasn’t fooling him. "Just thinking."

"About?"

I hesitated, but there was no point in pretending. "The case against David."

His expression darkened slightly, his fingers tightening around mine. "It’s nearly over," he said. "The evidence is overwhelming. Between the financial records, the testimonies, and everything Amanda’s revealed under questioning, there’s no way out for him."

I nodded, but the weight in my chest didn’t lessen. "And the king?"

"He’s going to make an official statement soon," Alexander confirmed. "David, Amanda, and the others will be charged with treason." He hesitated, then sighed. "They found evidence that David wasn’t just conspiring against the crown. He was planning assassinations—several of them."

My breath caught as I remembered what had happened to my father in the original timeline. "Who?"

Alexander shook his head. "It’s not all clear yet, but it doesn’t matter. Attempted regicide, conspiracy, murder…" He let out a slow breath. "The penalty for that is death."

I looked down at my plate, suddenly losing my appetite. It wasn’t that I wanted David to escape justice—he had been ruthless, cruel, dangerous. But death. The finality of it made my stomach twist.

"I knew it was coming," I admitted quietly. "I just… I didn’t think it would feel like this."

Alexander squeezed my hand again. "I know."

I met his gaze, the warmth in his eyes soothing some of the pain inside me. He didn’t offer empty reassurances. He knew what it was like to wrestle with the morality of things, to weigh justice against mercy.

I exhaled, shaking my head as I tried to push the feeling away. "What about Archer?" I asked, shifting the conversation.

Alexander leaned back slightly, his jaw tightening. "Nothing new. If there’s more to his case, the king hasn’t shared it yet and my agents haven’t uncovered it. He was much better about hiding his actions than David or Amanda."

That didn’t sit well with me. "Maybe we should go to the king directly," I suggested, though uncertainty laced my voice. “He did say he wanted to speak with us.”

Alexander gave me a knowing look. "You’re hesitant because of Diana."

I frowned, hating how well he could read me. "She’s always with him, it seems," I pointed out. "We still don’t know what her role is in all of this. She’s influencing him, but why? What’s her goal?"

His expression darkened. "I don’t know," he admitted.

I could tell that was weighing on him as well, but before I could push the topic further, he sighed and set his glass down. "Speaking of Diana… there’s something I need to tell you."

Something in his tone made my heart skip. He was serious, but there was something else beneath it—hesitation.

I sat up straighter, nerves tightening in my chest. "What is it?"

Alexander hesitated, then met my gaze. "I had a meeting with Sabrina."

I blinked, surprised. "You did?"

He had seemed so devastated when I brought up the idea of talking to her that I could hardly believe he would go ahead with it. Part of me was annoyed he hadn’t told me beforehand, but mostly I just felt relieved.

It couldn’t have been easy for him to face her, but it had to happen. We needed to make sure that she didn’t cause a scandal that could sink his campaign.

He nodded. "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you beforehand. I should have. But I… I needed to do it."

I could sense the weight behind his words, the turmoil he had been carrying. My pulse quickened, and I braced myself. "What did you learn?"

For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then, with a steadying breath, he said, "The little girl. Lexie. She’s mine."

My breath hitched.

I had known, of course. Even before this moment, I had suspected. The resemblance, the secrecy, the way Alexander reacted when he saw the pictures—it had all pointed to the truth.

But hearing him say it, hearing him confirm it, made my heart twist in a way I hadn’t expected.

Alexander watched me closely, waiting for my reaction.

"She’s yours," I echoed softly. “How do you feel about that?”

Alexander looked at his glass as he swirled the red liquid around. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But I’m going to take care of her… and Sabrina too. There’s no reason not to. I have the resources and she’s my little girl. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t step up now that I know?”

I smiled warmly at him. Alexander could be as cold as ice when he needed to be, but this was the side of him that I had fallen in love with. It was a side that he hid most of the time, so I was grateful that I got to see it.

He was so loving and he had a deep desire to care for people. It was what made him a good Alpha and I had no doubt that it would make him a great father, too.

“I’m glad,” I said firmly. He looked at me questioningly and I nodded at him, assuring him that I wasn’t upset.

He nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "I’m meeting her." He hesitated, then added, "And I want you to come with me."

I hadn’t expected that.

Emotion welled in my chest, surprising me. I wasn’t sure why it affected me so much, but the fact that he wanted me there—wanted me to be part of something so deeply personal—meant more than I could put into words.

I nodded, forcing down the lump in my throat. "Of course," I said softly. "I’ll be there."

Relief flashed across his face, and he reached for my hand again, squeezing it tightly. "Thank you."

I shook my head. "You don’t have to thank me, Alexander."

But as I looked at him, at the way the candlelight flickered against his sharp features, I realized something.

This moment—this quiet, intimate dinner under the stars—wasn’t just about finding a moment of peace in the storm. It wasn’t just about distracting ourselves from the chaos surrounding us.

It was about preparing for what came next.

And no matter how complicated things became, I knew one thing for certain.

We would face it together.