Heir of Deception | (for mature audience)

Chapter 11: Christian

Christian

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I sat quietly, holding Alexandria's hand as my father and siblings recounted tales from my childhood. They didn't shy away from sharing the embarrassing moments, and I could feel my face heating up as Leah, my sister, gleefully narrated stories that should have remained buried.

"Remember that time Christian had a crush on your best friend in middle school?" she laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "He let her put makeup on him!"

I groaned inwardly, wishing for the earth to swallow me whole. But that wasn't all; Leah seemed determined to embarrass me further. She launched into a story about the time I had come crying to her in the third grade, convinced that my then-girlfriend might be pregnant after I kissed her.

"Are you done embarrassing me now?" I asked, half-laughing, half-pleading.

"I have so many more stories, but I'll keep them to myself for now," she teased, her laughter ringing through the room.

"Okay, kiddos. We have to leave now," my dad announced, rising from his chair.

"Yeah, before Leah embarrasses him so much that Lex decides to leave him," Christopher Jr. added with a smirk.

"Her name is Alexandria," I corrected him, a hint of annoyance creeping into my voice.

As Alexandria and I walked my family to the elevator, I exchanged warm hugs with each of them, grateful for their presence but mortified by their stories. It was nice to see them, but the relentless teasing about my childhood antics had me blushing. They even recounted how I loved swimming naked when I was five. It was a fact I still enjoyed, though I lacked a private pool now.

"It was nice meeting you, Lex," Christopher said, looking me directly in the eyes as he used my nickname.

"Take care of her, buddy," my dad said, his voice filled with paternal concern.

The elevator doors slid shut, and suddenly, it was just the two of us again—no family, no distractions. Alexandria walked over to the living room and began tidying up the wine glasses from our earlier gathering. I didn’t want to spoil the moment, but I felt a pressing need to discuss something that had been weighing on my mind since I learned about it today. I needed to know if it was true.

We settled back in the living room, sharing another glass of wine, but the earlier laughter had faded. The atmosphere shifted as I gathered the courage to broach a sensitive topic.

"May I ask you something?" I said, setting my glass aside, my heart racing.

"Of course, ask away," she replied, her smile still warm but tinged with curiosity as I moved closer to her.

"Promise me you won’t be mad at me again?" I asked, searching her eyes for reassurance.

"Pinky promise," she said, extending her pinky toward me, a gesture that made me feel a little lighter.

"I have some concerns, and I hope you don't take offense to what I'm about to ask," I said, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on us.

"Ask away, you're giving me anxiety," she responded, her tone growing serious.

My heart sank as I noticed the concern etched on her face. This could go wrong in so many ways, and I desperately wanted to avoid any fallout. I didn't want her to hate me again, especially after we had just reconciled.

"You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, okay?" I added, trying to soften the blow.

"Christian, ask the damn questions," she urged, impatience lacing her words.

Taking a deep breath, I plunged forward. "I've noticed that you don’t eat much, and… do you have an eating problem?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Her reaction was immediate, her expression shifting from surprise to defensiveness. "So what? Are you going to start judging me too?" she snapped, her eyes flashing with hurt.

"No, I would never," I replied quickly, wanting to soothe her anger. "I think you’re beautiful just the way you are, Alexandria."

"Shut up. You're just saying that to make me feel better," she said, hurt lacing her voice as she turned away from me, her body tense.

I felt the weight of her pain, and it cut deeper than I expected. I chased after her, desperation in my voice. "No, I truly mean it, and I am here to offer you my help, Alexandria."

"I don’t need your help, Christian," she shot back, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as if shielding herself from me. "I can handle this on my own."

"Alexandria, please," I said, my voice softer, filled with concern. "I care about you too much to stand by and watch you struggle. You don’t have to go through this alone. You can talk to me."

Her gaze pierced through me, and I saw the conflict in her eyes—vulnerability battling with pride. "You don’t understand," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I thought I could control it, but sometimes it feels like it’s controlling me."

I stepped closer, my heart aching for her. "Whatever it is, we can face it together. You’re going to be my wife, and I want to support you through everything, no matter what."

She hesitated, and for a moment, I thought she might reject my offer again. But then, her defenses began to crumble. "Thank you," she finally said, her voice small, a mixture of gratitude and fear. "I just… I don’t want to let you down."

"You could never let me down," I assured her, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace. "I just want you to be happy and healthy. I want to help you find that balance again."

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I woke up the next morning in my bed, alone and yearning for the warmth of another human being—preferably Alexandria. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and pulled on some clothes before heading down the hall to check on her. On weekends, she tended to sleep in a little later than usual. To my surprise, she was already awake, scrolling through her phone.

"Morning," she smiled, her eyes lighting up as she saw me.

"Morning," I replied, returning her smile as I walked closer to her.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, my gaze lingering on her beauty. Even with messy hair and no makeup, she was stunning. There was something so genuine about her in the morning light, and I felt a rush of affection.

"Can I cash in on one of those three dates per week?" I asked, eager to spend more time with her. "We can go after..."

I was entitled to three dates per week, but since I hadn’t cashed in on any of those since the ink dried on the paper, I thought it would be a good idea to start now. Besides, last week had felt like a cold war in the penthouse, and I wanted to break the ice.

"Yeah, sure," she replied, her tone brightening. "What do you want to do?"

"Anything you want," I said, my excitement bubbling over. "Write down a list of things you want to do or places you want to go."

"I'll text it to you," she said, a playful smile crossing her lips.