Before today, Lucas had heard of Alicia Sinclair—the adopted daughter of the Blackwood family—but had never paid much attention to her.

She had always lived quietly and kept a low profile.

Still, everyone knew the Blackwood elders were exceptionally fond of her.

Now, remembering the closeness between Alexander and Alicia, an uneasy feeling settled heavily in his chest.

There was definitely something going on.

He opened his eyes sharply.

"Conduct a full investigation on Alexander Blackwood and Alicia Sinclair."

His voice turned cold.

"I want to know exactly what they’re hiding."

"Yes, sir," the assistant replied immediately,as the driver turned on the car engine and they drove out of the garage.

Alicia’s POV

Neon lights flickered outside the car window, casting shifting colors across the glass.

In the reflection, Alexander’s face appeared clearer than the city beyond it.

His features were sharp and striking, his profile cleanly defined. Strong brows. A pronounced Adam’s apple. The quiet sensuality of a mature man.

"So," Alexander said softly, breaking the silence, "you’re good at chess."

I turned slightly and pressed my lips together.

"I only picked up a few things from Grandpa when I was younger."

The moment I mentioned him, my mood dimmed.

I could tell it affected Alexander as well, because he did not respond immediately.

"It seems we both learned from the same teacher," he said quietly.

"Mm." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

That was all I replied.

He reached over and took my hand in his.

"They said you’re very good at it too," I said, glancing at him. "They said you always win."

A faint smile touched his lips.

He slowly traced his thumb across my palm and gently squeezed my fingers, saying nothing.

"How do you do it?" I asked, unable to hide my curiosity. "I’ve never seen you show much interest in chess."

Alexander glanced at me before answering.

"It’s simple. Calculate every move, then act only when you’re certain."

I nodded slightly.

That really did sound like him.

Alexander had always been brilliant.

He studied finance in university and had an effortless talent for numbers. Back then, wanting to be closer to him, I chose business administration because it often worked closely with the finance department during joint activities.

I had worked relentlessly just to stay at the top of my class.

He, on the other hand, had done it with ease.

By the time I entered university, he had already graduated.

Yet his name still remained.

In the university’s Hall of Honor, his achievements were listed among distinguished scholars, scientists, and professors who had made significant contributions in their fields.

"What are you thinking about?"

Alexander’s voice pulled me back.

I shook my head.

"Nothing."

He studied me for a moment but did not ask further.

Instead, he changed the subject.

"There’s a gala tomorrow night. Would you come with me?"

I fell silent.

I had rarely attended events like that over the past few years.

Partly because work kept me busy.

Partly because I disliked them.

People in that world had never truly accepted me, and I had no desire to force myself into the circles of the rich and powerful.

Deep down, I was still just an ordinary girl.

Then I remembered Grandmother’s birthday banquet.

The luxurious ballroom.

The freezing water of the pool.

The icy water seemed to crawl over my skin again.

And the bracelet that ended up with lilian.

My fingers curled unconsciously.

"Have your assistant accompany you," I said quietly. "I don’t want to go."

Alexander’s gaze rested on my face.

"Then I won’t go either," he said after a pause. "I’ll stay with you."

"No."

My answer came firmly.

He frowned slightly.

"Why not? It isn’t an important event."

His words made me knit my brows, though I said nothing.

When we arrived home, we both went to the study to finish a little work.

Alexander finished first and returned to the bedroom to freshen up, reminding me not to stay up too late before he left.

A few minutes later, the exhaustion of the day began catching up with me as well.

I pushed back my chair, stood, and headed to the bedroom.

Without thinking much, I went straight to the bathroom and opened the door.

Then I froze.

Alexander had clearly just stepped out of the shower.

A towel hung low around his waist, and I couldn’t tell whether he had anything on beneath it.

His broad shoulders tapered into a narrow waist, forming a sharp, powerful silhouette that radiated masculine strength.

Drops of water still clung to his skin.

A few damp strands of hair had fallen across his forehead, making him look younger than usual.

White shaving foam covered his jaw as he carefully guided a razor across his face.

At the sound of the door opening, he looked up.

Our eyes met through the mirror.

"Sorry," I blurted out.

After a brief moment of stunned silence, I quickly stepped back, grabbed my toiletries, and hurried toward another bathroom.

Usually, Alexander was the one who worked late into the night.

I had forgotten he had left the study early to freshen up.

Standing before the sink in the other bathroom, I stared at my reflection.

The image of what I had just seen replayed vividly in my mind.

Before I realized it, a small smile touched my lips, and warmth rose to my cheeks.

I had to admit—

Even after three years of marriage, and despite the harmony we had once shared in private, Alexander’s physique could still leave me speechless.

After we both finished showering, we lay in bed.

The lights were off.

The room was quiet, wrapped in darkness.

Then I felt it.

Alexander’s hand slid slowly around my waist.

His movements were tentative, yet eager—like someone seeking intimacy.

I thought of the baby growing inside me.

I was already past the first trimester now. The pregnancy was more stable than before.

And Alexander was healthy.

There was no practical reason to refuse.

Yet for some reason, resistance rose inside me.

Unexplainable.

Unavoidable.

My mind drifted back to that day at the mansion.

After drinking the nourishing soup, he had chosen to take two cold showers rather than touch me.

He would rather endure alone than reach for me.

Something tightened in my chest.

I stayed still.

Pretending to be asleep.

Eventually, sometime later, I truly fell asleep.

Alexander’s POV

When Alicia gave no response, I propped myself up on one arm and lay beside her, watching quietly.

Moonlight spilled through the curtains, illuminating her peaceful face in the darkness.

I leaned closer, slowly lowering my head until my lips brushed lightly against the side of her neck.

At that moment, Alicia suddenly opened her eyes.

Our gazes met for less than a second.

Then she quickly closed them again, pretending she had never woken.

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

So she had been awake all along.

I gently patted her head.

"Sleep," I murmured softly. "Good night."

Then I wrapped an arm around her waist and closed my own eyes.

Sometime deep into the night, I woke to the sound of Alicia murmuring in her sleep.

Her voice was faint and strained.

I moved closer, trying to hear her clearly.

"Don’t... please don’t hit me... my stomach..."

My body stiffened instantly.

I sat upright and turned toward her.

Tears had gathered at the corners of her eyes.

"Alicia?"

I called her name softly.

"Are you okay?"

But she did not wake.

She only continued murmuring helplessly in her sleep.

My chest tightened.

I immediately pulled her into my arms and held her against me, gently stroking her hair.

"Shh... it’s alright now."

My voice came out lower than usual.

"You’re safe."

"Don’t cry."

I kept soothing her quietly until her trembling gradually eased.

After some time, she finally calmed down and drifted back into a deeper sleep.

I wasn’t even sure she knew she had been crying.

Carefully, I laid her back down and tucked the blanket around her.

Then I remained seated beside the bed, staring at the sadness that still lingered on her sleeping face.

Even in sleep, she looked haunted.

My expression darkened.

What had happened?

When had it happened?

How had something serious enough to scar her so deeply occurred... without me knowing?

What kind of husband was I—