Chapter 36: Fierce Queen: Chapter 36

I wandered down the hallway to Alejandro’s office. I’d seen his car pulling into the drive half an hour earlier but he still hadn’t come to bed. It had been two days since he’d come home early and we’d spent our incredible evening in bed together, and since that time I had hardly seen him.

His office door was ajar and I pushed it open. He was sitting at his desk with a half empty bottle of Scotch in front of him and a glass of amber liquid in his hand, staring into space.

‘Alejandro. Are you okay?’ I asked quietly I as slipped inside the room and closed the door behind me.

My voice seemed to snap him from his trance and he blinked at me.

He looked completely exhausted and my heart wanted to break for him. I wished there was something I could do to help. He still hadn’t discovered who was behind his father’s shooting, and while Mateo got stronger and healthier every day, Alejandro seemed to be deteriorating. I knew that the guilt and the responsibility weighed heavy on him.

‘Why don’t you come to bed and try and get some sleep?’ I suggested as I stepped towards his desk.

‘Sleep?’ he snorted before knocking back the remaining whisky in his glass. ‘And just how the hell am I supposed to sleep, Alana? With everything that I have to deal with?’

‘You’ll make yourself ill, and then –’

He interrupted me before I could finish my sentence. ‘And you think anyone cares about that? Do you think my enemies give a shit if I don’t sleep? Because they don’t sleep, princess, and that means neither do I. You have no idea the pressure I’m under … the responsibility to protect everyone!’ he snarled.

‘You don’t have to protect everyone,’ I said softly. ‘That’s not on you.’

He looked at me like I’d grown two heads. ‘What?’ he growled. ‘You saw what happened when I wasn’t here. My father was almost killed. I have you running around L.A and refusing to stay in the house. What else am I supposed to do, Alana, but work twenty four hours a day to try and keep a handle on it all?’

I swallowed. I hadn’t thought about what it meant for him to have to worry about me whenever I left the house, but he didn’t need to carry that all himself.

‘Let me help then.’

‘Help?’ he scoffed. ‘How can you help when you are part of the problem,’ he slurred and it was only then that I realized he was drunk. ‘I’m starting to think my father was right all along. Love is far too much trouble for a man like me. It makes me vulnerable. Weak!’ he spat the last word.

‘Are you saying you regret marrying me?’ I asked, feeling the sob catch in my throat.

He didn’t answer. He stared at me instead, unblinking. His face devoid of emotion and I felt my sadness turn to anger.

‘If either of us have regrets, don’t you think that should be me?’ I snapped, unable to contain my emotion. ‘I was the one ripped from my life. I have done everything I can to make a life and a home here. I have done everything I could to make a life with you. My whole life has changed. I can’t even leave the goddamn house without an armed escort. And you’re the one with regrets?’ I snapped.

He stood up so fast that I flinched, pushing his chair back before striding right past me, opening the door.

‘Where are you going?’ I asked.

‘To the hotel,’ he barked.

I watched him leave and sat down on the chair. I blinked away the tears, determined not to cry. He hadn’t stayed at the hotel alone in over seven months, not since the night we’d consummated our marriage. The hotel was the place where he’d taken all of his other women before me.

The thought that he might seek comfort in the arms of one of those women tonight forced itself into my brain. I didn’t believe he was capable of that. Did I?

He was angry, and drunk. But maybe it was more than that? Maybe he really did regret marrying me? Maybe our honeymoon period was officially over? Had I been a complete fool to think that I could hold the attention of a man like Alejandro before some other woman caught his eye again?

I wandered back to bed and lay awake in the dark. My stomach churned and all I wanted was for him to climb into bed beside me the way he usually did, and wrap me in his arms. That was the place I felt most myself. It was the place I felt safe. It was home.