Infamous.
The word settled in Alex’s mind with weight that demanded attention.
Not famous. Not interesting. Not the kind of neutral descriptor people used for strangers they’d heard about through mutual friends.
Infamous.
Which ant Catherine Blackwood knew things about him. Had heard stories. Had ford opinions before this eting ever happened.
The question was: what had she heard? And from whom?
His mind processed the possibilities with chanical speed, tactical assessnt reasserting itself now that the initial shock of her ergence had passed fractionally.
Victoria must have said sothing about him... but surely not in the manner she was currently suggesting.
Catherine’s smile widened just slightly, as if she could track every thought crossing his mind through the micro-expressions on his face.
"Especially from Victoria, My dear friend" she continued, her tone maintaining that sa quality... playful, mysterious, deliberately weighted with subtext he couldn’t quite read yet.
"She’s been praising you to no end. About how handso you are. And how capable you are. "
Catherine set the towel back where it belonged, then began walking toward him... unhurried, every step asured, confident, claiming the space between them without needing to rush.
The distance shrank with quiet inevitability... until she stopped right in front of him.
Too close.
Close enough that he could see the water droplets still clinging to her collarbone, could sll chlorine mixed with sothing floral... expensive perfu or high-end shampoo, subtle but present.
Her eyes held his, dark and sharp and completely aware of exactly what she was doing, watching for any sign of discomfort or retreat or the kind of nervous energy most n would show when a beautiful woman invaded their space without warning.
Alex gave her nothing.
No flinch. No backward step. No shift in his breathing.
Just steady attention, waiting, learning, adapting to whatever dynamic she was establishing.
Catherine’s smile shifted fractionally... not quite approval, not quite amusent, but sothing close to both.
Then her hand moved.
Slowly. Deliberately. Giving him ti to react if he chose to.
Her fingers reached toward his face, and Alex held perfectly still, curiosity overriding any instinct to pull back.
Her touch was light, almost delicate, as her fingers settled beneath his chin.
Her gaze traveled across his face with clinical precision... eyes, cheekbones, jawline, mouth... cataloging details with the sa kind of focused attention he’d used on her monts before.
"And you didn’t disappoint ," Catherine said quietly, her voice carrying undertone that suggested this wasn’t empty flattery but honest assessnt.
"Not at all."
Her fingers remained beneath his chin, still holding that slight upward tilt, maintaining eye contact that felt less like power play now and more like... recognition.
"Victoria described you well," she continued, that impressed quality bleeding into her tone despite obvious attempts to maintain mysterious playfulness. "But I wanted to see for myself."
Her thumb brushed once against his jaw — brief, deliberate, the kind of touch that communicated possession or claim or simple appreciation for quality when encountered.
"Whether the infamous Alexander Hale lived up to the reputation."
She held his gaze for one more heartbeat.
Her hand dropped, releasing him, though she didn’t step back.
"You’re quite the topic of conversation these days," Catherine said, tone shifting into sothing cooler. "Victoria’s new... interest."
She let the word hang deliberately.
"Naturally, I wanted to et the man who captured her attention so thoroughly."
A pause.
"So I did so research."
The words landed with weight that Alex felt imdiately.
"And guess what I found?"
Catherine’s smile widened fractionally, taking on quality that suggested she knew exactly how uncomfortable her next words would be.
Alex’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but he held her gaze, saying nothing, waiting for whatever revelation she’d prepared.
Her voice dropped lower, ant only for the space between them, each word delivered with precision that felt both casual and calculated.
"A scholarship student at Blackwood University."
The first detail, stated as simple fact.
"No parents. Living on financial aid and whatever part-ti work you can manage."
She paused, letting that sink in... the full picture of his circumstances laid bare, all the details he’d never volunteered to Victoria, all the background he’d hoped to keep quietly in the past while building sothing new.
Then Catherine’s expression shifted, sothing sharper entering her eyes.
"And surprisingly..."
Another pause, this one weighted differently.
"...you were the boyfriend of Sophia."
Her head tilted slightly, studying his reaction with focused intensity.
"If that’s the right term to use."
Suggesting she had information that made "boyfriend" inadequate or inaccurate or complicated in ways that simple labels couldn’t capture.
Alex’s expression didn’t change, but sothing cold settled in his chest.
’How much does she know?’
’What exactly did her investigation uncover?’
Catherine watched him with eyes that suggested she could read every thought, every calculation, every defensive instinct rising in response to having his entire background dissected and presented back to him by a woman he’d t less than five minutes ago.
"Interesting combination," she murmured, voice carrying undertone he couldn’t quite identify yet. "Wouldn’t you say?"
"And then," she continued, voice dropping into sothing that might have been sympathy if it weren’t wrapped in such calculated delivery, "the most unexpected thing happened."
A pause.
Deliberate.
Weighted.
"You got abandoned by her."
The words hung in the air between them, stark and cutting despite the almost gentle tone in which they were delivered.
Alex’s expression remained carefully neutral, but sothing shifted behind his eyes... recognition that this wasn’t just background research anymore, but sothing deeper, more personal, information that shouldn’t have been accessible through simple investigation.
Catherine’s head tilted slightly, and her next words carried genuine surprise that seed to pierce through the mysterious playfulness she’d maintained until now.
"Oh, I never expected my sweet niece to be this heartless."
Catherine’s expression shifted fractionally, sothing almost like disapproval crossing her features.
"She even had you beaten by that Steele boy."
Her voice carried edge now, the playful mystery evaporating into sothing sharper, more direct.
"What was his na..."
A pause, as if searching mory, though Alex suspected she knew perfectly well.
"...yes. Marcus."
She said the na with particular precision, watching Alex’s face for any reaction to hearing it spoken aloud by Catherine Blackwood while standing three feet away in a bikini at her private pool.
"Marcus Steele," she repeated, as if testing how the full na sounded in context. "The boy Sophia chose instead."
Her gaze sharpened.
"The one who put you in the hospital, if my information is correct."
It wasn’t a question.
It was confirmation.
Catherine stood there, close enough that he could see the shift in her expression — the way curiosity and assessnt gave way to sothing harder to read.
Not quite sympathy.
Not quite judgnt.
Sothing in between.
But before Alex could formulate words — before he could decide whether to answer honestly or deflect or simply hold his silence — Catherine’s expression shifted again.
Sothing changed in her gaze.
Not curiosity anymore. Not assessnt.
Sothing closer to... disbelief.
Wonder, even.
"And then," she said slowly, voice dropping into tone that suggested she was still processing what she’d discovered, "I witnessed the most unexpected thing in my life."
A pause.
Her head tilted slightly, studying him with renewed intensity.
"The boy who was abandoned."
She let each word land separately, building weight.
"Beaten."
Another pause.
"Broken."
Her gaze never wavered from his face.
"Who should have lost all hope in life."
Catherine stepped closer — not much, just enough that the already intimate distance beca sothing else entirely, beca the kind of proximity reserved for confessions or accusations or truths too dangerous to speak at normal volu.
"But God knows how..."
Her voice carried genuine amazent now, the playful mystery stripped away completely, leaving only honest bewildernt at what she’d uncovered.
"...you bounced back."
The words hung between them.
"Transford."
Then her expression shifted into sothing sharper, more pointed, carrying edge that cut through the afternoon stillness.
"And seduced the mother of your ex-girlfriend."
Alex’s breath caught.
Not visibly. Not in any way Catherine could see.
But internally, everything stopped.
Alex just stared at her, trying to follow where she was going with this.
If she were truly offended... she wouldn’t be here.
Not like this.
Catherine’s smile returned, but it wasn’t playful anymore.
It was impressed. Genuinely, deeply impressed in a way that transcended simple appreciation for cleverness or strategy.
"Not just seduced," she continued, voice carrying undertone of admiration wrapped in disbelief. "But made her..."
She paused, searching for the right word, the precise descriptor that captured what she’d discovered.
"...yours."
The word landed like pronouncent.
Judgnt and acknowledgnt combined.
"The woman who could have anyone. Who’s built an empire through pure competence and refuses to compromise for anyone."
Her voice dropped lower.
"You made her choose you."
A pause that felt weighted with significance Alex couldn’t quite parse yet.
"Not just as casual entertainnt. Not as distraction or rebellion against her daughter’s choices."
Catherine’s eyes locked onto his with intensity that felt different from all her previous testing.
"But as her partner."
Another pause.
"Her equal, sohow, despite every logical reason that shouldn’t work."
Catherine stood there, close enough that Alex could see the genuine confusion flickering behind her impressed expression, the way soone looked when encountering puzzle pieces that shouldn’t fit but sohow created coherent picture anyway.
"...So tell , Alexander Hale — what exactly are you?"
A pause.
Her gaze held his with intensity that felt different from all her previous testing.
"...are you the most brilliant strategist I’ve ever encountered?"
Her smile widened fractionally.
"Or the most dangerous man Victoria could have possibly chosen?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers