Chapter four- The Reckless kiss

Alexander POV

The morning light spills into the grand estate, filtering through the floor to ceiling window as I sit in my study holding my cup of coffee. My gaze shifted to Ethan seated on the floor near the fireplace, a puzzle spread out before him.

His eyes, lips, all screamed he was mine. I should never have doubted he was mine in the first place. From the sharp gut of his jaw to the quiet intensity in his eyes, he is truly a Bologna. And yet for the longest time, I refused to admit he was mine.

It wasn’t just because of Clara.

It was because I wasn’t ready to be a father.

And now, I’m still confused but one thing is certain I have to give it a try.

Ethan glances up, catching me staring, and a small smile tugs at his lips before he quickly looks back down, concentrating on his puzzle. A warmth spreads through my chest, unexpected and foreign.

Clara did this. She raised him, shaped him. Despite everything, she gave him a childhood free from the poison of this world.

I also couldn’t ignore the fact that she had changed too.

The maid I remember was meek, barely speaking unless spoken to. She never met my eyes for more than a second, never stood tall. But the woman in my house now? She is confident, sharp-tongued, calculated and unafraid to challenge me.

She plays the role of the dutiful wife perfectly, but I see the fire behind her mask.

What happened to her?

What turned the quiet, timid girl into the woman who looked me in the eye last night with unshaken defiance?

A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.

Before I can answer, Bianca strides in.

I don’t have to look at her to know she planned this entrance. I can smell her overpowering perfume, the same one I always bought for her, feel the way she moves closer, her body language deliberate, calculated.

“Alexander,” she purrs, closing the door behind her, locking us in.

I don’t react still looking through the file in my hand.

She steps forward, placing manicured fingers on the edge of my desk, leaning just enough for her silk dress to shift against her curves. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

I exhale slowly, setting my coffee down. “I haven’t and I don’t think we have anything to talk about either.”

“You have.” She tilts her head, pouting. “You won’t even look at me properly.”

I finally meet her eyes, cold and unyielding. “Because there’s nothing left to look at, Bianca. What do you want? Who let you in the first place?”

A flicker of frustration crosses her face, but she quickly masks it.

“You’re still angry.” She lets out a soft sigh. “Alexander, it was one mistake and it happened years ago.”

My patience snaps.

“One mistake?” I repeat, my voice dangerously low. “You call sleeping with my business rival the night before our engagement a mistake?”

Her expression falters. “I was drunk. I wasn’t thinking. He seduced me.”

I let out a humorless laugh, pushing back from my chair as I stood at my full height. “That excuse might work on someone else, Bianca. Not me.”

She steps closer, placing a hand on my chest. I immediately grabbed her wrist, not harshly, but enough to pull her back.

She gasps, her lips parting. “Alexander, I still love you.”

“No, you love what I can give you,” I correct her coldly. “Power. Status. My name.”

She stiffens, her nostrils flaring. “And what? You think Clara loves you?” Her voice drips with venom. “She’s nothing, Alexander. A lowlife. Is that what you’ve been reduced to?”

I smirk, tilting my head. “Funny. You seem awfully threatened by a lowlife.”

Her eyes darken. Before she can spew another insult, the door creaks open.

Clara.

She stands in the doorway, effortlessly composed, her eyes flicking between Bianca and me. She doesn’t show an ounce of emotion, but I don’t miss the way Bianca’s lips curled in disdain and jealousy.

“Am I interrupting something?” Clara asks smoothly, stepping inside as if she owns the damn place.

Bianca scoffs. “Actually, yes. But then again, I suppose you’re used to inserting yourself where you don’t belong.”

Clara’s lips curve slightly, but the amusement doesn’t reach her eyes. “That’s funny, coming from the woman who still can’t seem to accept that she’s been replaced and knows her place.”

Bianca’s face hardens. “You think this is over, don’t you?”

Clara shrugs. “I think if you have to fight this hard to keep a man, then you’ve already lost him.”

Bianca opens her mouth, but I cut her off.

“Enough,” I snap, stepping forward. Then, before I can second-guess my own actions, I did something reckless. Something I never expected to do.

I grabbed Clara’s waist and pulled her to me.

She stiffens in surprise, but only for a second.

Then, as if reading my intent, she leans in, placing her hands against my chest, tilting her chin up just enough for me to take the next step.

So I did.

I kissed her.

At first, I expected resistance. I expected her to push me away, to slap me, to call me out for using her to make Bianca jealous or maybe do something drastic.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she kisses me back.

And that… that shocks me more than anything. It was like she expected it.

Her lips are soft but firm, her fingers curling ever so slightly into my shirt. There is no hesitation, no reluctance—only confidence, only fire.

And just like that, I forgot why I started this in the first place.

The moment stretches, electric and dangerous, until Bianca’s sharp intake of breath shatters it.

Clara is the first to pull away, though her expression remains unreadable. She doesn’t look flustered or embarrassed.

She looks victorious.

Bianca, on the other hand, looks like she’s been slapped but I didn’t care.

“This… this isn’t over,” she whispers, her voice shaking with barely contained rage.

I smirk, wrapping an arm around Clara’s waist. “You’re right. It’s not. But you are.”

Bianca’s face turns pale, her hands balling into fists before she spins on her heel and storms out, slamming the door behind her.

Silence lingers in her absence.

I turn to Clara, expecting some kind of reaction—perhaps smug satisfaction or amusement at how easily she got under Bianca’s skin.

But instead, she just looks at me.

Her expression is unreadable, her gaze sharp and calculating.

Something shifts in my chest, an unsettling sensation that I can’t quite name.

“You must be having fun?” she finally asks, her voice smooth.

I release my grip on her waist, stepping back slightly. “You didn’t have to kiss me back.”

She tilts her head. “Would you have preferred if I pushed you away?”

I narrow my eyes. “I expected you to do it, you didn’t. Maybe you’ve always wanted it to happen.”

A slow, knowing smile curves her lips. “You expect a lot of things, Alexander.”

She doesn’t elaborate. Instead, she turns, walking toward the door, leaving me standing there, my pulse still thrumming.

As she reaches for the handle, she pauses.

“Oh, and one more thing,” she murmurs over her shoulder.

I raise a brow. “What?”

She glances back, her green eyes gleaming. “Next time you want to use me to make someone jealous… make sure you don’t enjoy it too much.”

And with that, she’s gone.

I exhale sharply, running a hand through my hair.

Damn her.

Damn this game she’s playing.

And damn me for not knowing whether I want to win… or let her destroy me completely.