Alexander grabbed his coat and allowed Raphael to lead him outside.
Behind them, Michael stayed behind to deal with the chaos that had erupted in the private room.
The cold night air hit Alexander’s face as they stepped out of the building.
"What the hell was that, Alexander?" Raphael demanded.
Alexander didn’t answer.
He simply continued walking toward the car.
Raphael frowned but followed.
The mont they got inside, Raphael started the engine but didn’t drive off imdiately.
He glanced at Alexander.
Alexander’s eyes were closed, his head resting against the seat. His injured hand lay against the door, dried blood visible across his knuckles.
For a mont, he looked less like the powerful Alexander Blackwood and more like a man who had completely run out of strength.
"Alexander," Raphael said again, his voice calr this ti. "Are you alright?"
A bitter laugh escaped Alexander.
"You heard what he was saying about Alicia."
"I did."
Raphael leaned back against his seat.
"And what he said was wrong."
Alexander opened his eyes slightly.
"But beating him half to death wasn’t going to change anything."
Silence filled the car.
Raphael sighed.
"Alexander, people think that way because of everything they’ve seen."
His tone softened.
"You spent months openly accompanying a celebrity. Then suddenly everyone finds out your wife was the woman beside you all along."
Alexander looked away.
The city lights blurred past the window.
He hated hearing it.
But Raphael wasn’t wrong.
Everything people believed now was the result of his own actions.
The rumors.
The misunderstandings.
The assumptions about Alicia.
He had created all of them himself.
"I know," he said quietly.
His voice sounded exhausted.
Raphael studied him for a mont before finally starting the car.
The drive was silent.
Neither man seed interested in continuing the conversation.
After several minutes, Alexander noticed they weren’t heading toward the estate.
He frowned.
"Where are we going?"
Raphael kept his eyes on the road.
"Your hand needs treatnt. I’m taking you to the hospital."
Alexander imdiately shook his head.
"No."
Raphael ignored him.
"Raphael."
"No."
Alexander straightened slightly.
"I said take ho."
"You need stitches."
"I don’t."
"You don’t know that."
Alexander rubbed his temples.
The last place he wanted to be right now was a hospital.
The thought alone made his chest tighten.
"Raphael," he said quietly, "just take back to the villa."
Raphael remained silent.
"I’ll have Maria treat it."
Still no response.
"Please."
The single word made Raphael glance at him.
For the first ti that night, Raphael noticed how exhausted he truly looked.
Not angry.
Not stubborn.
Just tired.
Completely and utterly tired.
With a sigh, Raphael changed lanes and turned the car toward the estate.
Neither of them spoke again.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the entrance of Alexander’s villa.
The house stood exactly as it always had.
Yet sohow it felt emptier than ever.
Alexander opened the door and stepped out.
"Get so sleep," Raphael said before he left.
Alexander gave a faint nod.
"I’ll try." Even though he knew it was impossible in this quiet house full of Alicia’s mories.
They exchanged a few final words before Raphael drove away.
Alexander stood there for a mont, watching the taillights disappear into the distance.
Then he turned toward the villa.
The lights were on.
The rooms were warm.
Everything was exactly as it should have been.
Except Alicia wasn’t there.
And sohow, that made the entire place feel like a stranger’s ho.
Alexander’s POV
Maria had already retired for the night when I returned, so I headed upstairs to the study.
The alcohol in my system left a dull haze over my thoughts, but it wasn’t enough to stop .
I couldn’t stop.
Not when Alicia was still out there.
Not when I had no idea where she was.
The study was silent as I stepped inside.
Stacks of docunts covered the desk.
I stared at them for a long mont.
I had already gone through every single file.
Twice.
Yet I still found nothing useful.
Most of the information Jane gathered from Alicia’s schools was purely academic.
Nothing personal.
Nothing that could tell where she might have gone.
No favorite destination.
No dream city.
No hidden clue.
Just records.
I rubbed my forehead and flipped through another file.
The result was the sa.
Nothing.
Alicia had never been the type to share much about herself.
She kept her thoughts locked away where nobody could reach them.
Even the people closest to her knew very little.
Ariana and Sophie had been her closest friends, and I had personally asked Jane to speak with them.
I didn’t dare show up myself.
Neither of them seed to like very much.
At first, I thought they were being unreasonable.
Now I understood.
My gaze lingered on one of the docunts as mories surfaced.
I rembered the day I took Lilian out for dinner.
I had run into Alicia and one of her friends.
At the ti, I hadn’t thought much of it.
Now, looking back, I could almost imagine how that scene must have looked from their perspective.
A husband openly accompanying another woman.
A wife forced to stand there and watch.
Who would want a friend to stay in a marriage like that?
Who wouldn’t dislike a man who treated their friend that way?
A bitter smile appeared on my lips.
The truth was that Ariana and Sophie had every reason to hate .
I had spent so much ti indulging Lilian that I never stopped to consider how Alicia felt.
Or how others saw my actions.
Thinking back now, I realized just how blind I had been.
Lilian had been creating distance between Alicia and from the very beginning.
And every single ti,
I had helped her do it.
Frustration surged through .
Without thinking, I slamd my injured hand against the edge of the desk.
A sharp pain shot through my knuckles.
"Hiss..."
I imdiately pulled my hand back.
Fresh blood seeped through the reopened wound.
For a few seconds, the sting was intense.
Then the feeling faded beneath the exhaustion that had beco constant these past few days.
I sank into the chair and leaned back.
My eyes drifted toward the phone lying on the desk.
For a mont, I simply stared at it.
Then I reached for it.
Alicia’s number was still unreachable.
I had called countless tis.
Sent ssages.
Left voicemails.
Nothing.
There was never any response.
The empty silence on the other end had beco sothing I hated hearing.
I unlocked the phone.
My thumb hovered over the screen briefly before moving.
Then I tapped an application that had been sitting there untouched for years.
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