Alexander POV.
My head was pounding like a jackhammer, the aftereffects of too much whiskey and bad decisions. The hangover clung to me like a fog, making everything blur at the edges. I sat on the couch, replaying every moment of the meeting earlier today, and with each memory, my regret twisted deeper like a knife.
What the hell was I thinking? How did I let this happen?
It all started with that phone call. I should’ve known better than to answer my mother when I was still half–drunk and disoriented. But when she called that afternoon, insisting I show up to discuss something urgent with the legal team, I dragged myself there, thinking it was some business–related nonsense. Never in a million years did I expect to sit in that room and see Christiana walking in, ready to go to war.
The moment our eyes met, I knew. I knew she thought I was in on it, that I had planned this ambush. The hurt and fury in her eyes said it all. And the worst part? I couldn’t even explain myself, couldn’t even get the words out, because the reality was I didn’t even know what the hell was happening until I got there. I couldn’t face her. I couldn’t meet her gaze because I knew what she was thinking–that I was just as cold, calculating, and manipulative as my mother. But I wasn’t. At least, I didn’t want
to be.
“Christiana, this isn’t a fight,” I’d tried saying, desperate to get her away from that toxic atmosphere, away from the legal vultures my mother had surrounded herself with. I wanted to take her somewhere we could actually talk, where I could explain that this wasn’t my doing. But she shut me down so fast, my words died in my
throat.
Her voice was like ice, slicing through me when she gave a response.
She was right, and that truth gutted me. Hearing her lay it all out like that, her pain raw and undeniable, made me hate myself even more. All the things I’d done in the past, all the ways I’d hurt her, they came crashing down on me at that moment. But now, with this mess, she’ll never believe it wasn’t my plan. Why would she? Especially after I told her I’d be in the kids‘ lives no matter what. Now she’ll think I’ve teamed up with my mother to rip them away from her. And I can’t even blame her for thinking that.
I slammed my fist into the armrest, cursing myself. “Damn it, Alex! How could you be so stupid?” My voice echoed in the empty room, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the self–loathing burning inside me. I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt her again. But now, because of my mother’s scheming and my own stupidity for showing up, I’ve probably pushed her even further away. How the hell am I supposed to fix this?
The sound of the door opening snapped me out of my thoughts. My mother strode in like she owned the place, her heels clicking against the marble floor, her presence as suffocating as ever.
“We need to talk, Alex,” she said sharply, her voice laced with irritation. “I assume you’re going to thank me for taking the necessary steps to ensure those children are where they belong.”
“Thank you?” I shot back, standing up to face her. “Are you out of your mind, Mother? I told you to stay out of my business with Christiana and the kids! I thought we agreed you wouldn’t interfere!”
She crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “I’m not interfering. I’m doing what you’re too weak to do yourself. Those children need stability, and Christiana is nothing but a distraction from your responsibilities
“Distraction?” I nearly laughed at the absurdity. “She’s the mother of my children! She’s the one who’s been raising them while I was off being a complete idiot! And you think you can just waltz in and take them away from her because you’ve decided it’s
what’s best?”
My mother’s eyes narrowed, her voice cold and unforgiving. “I raised you, Alex. I molded you into the man you are today. Don’t forget that. I know what’s best for you and those children, even if you’re too blind to see it.”
I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the rage boiling inside me. “This isn’t about what’s best for anyone. This is about control, about you trying to manipulate everything like you always do. But this is my family. Mother. My kids. Stay the hell cutofitl”
She stepped closer, her eyes flashing with fury. “You’re being naive, Alex. You think that woman is capable of giving those children the life they deserve? She’s weak, she’s-
“Enough!” I cut her off, my voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “You don’t get to talk about her like that. She’s
Chapter 33
stronger than you’ll ever be. She’s done more for Ethan and Emma than I ever have. And you-“I took a step back, shaking my head in disbelief, “you’re only making things worse.”
Before I could react, she slapped me across the face, the sting of it radiating through my cheek. “Watch your tone, boy!” she hissed. “I won’t be disrespected by you. Everything you have, everything you are, is because of me. Don’t you dare forget that.”
The slap wasn’t what hurt. It was the truth behind her words. She did raise me, she did shape me into who I am today, but that didn’t mean she could control me forever. I rubbed my cheek, glaring at her. “You’re right. You made me who I am. But I’m not a child anymore, and I won’t let you ruin what’s left of my relationship with Christiana and the kids. You crossed the line today, and if you ever pull something like this again, you’re going to lose me, Mother. For good.”
She opened her mouth to retort, but I was done. I stormed past her, slamming the door behind me, the echo of it rattling through the halls. The sting of her slap was nothing compared to the ache in my chest Christiana’s voice, her words, kept replaying in my mind. The way she stood up for herself, for the kids, it made me realize just how much I’d lost by letting my mother dictate my life.
I hated myself for letting it come to this. Hated that I was too weak, too blinded by my own mess, to see what was happening until it was too late. But one thing was clear–I had to make this right. I didn’t care what it took; I wasn’t going to let my mother destroy the one chance I had left to be a part of my children’s lives.
Christiana might hate me now, and she had every right to. But I would not stop until she knew the truth. Until she knew that I was not the same man who walked away years ago. I had made mistakes, but I would not let this be the one that ruins everything. I’d fight for her forgiveness, for a chance to make things right.
Because until she forgives me, I would never forgive myself.
