Chapter 3 Stranger’s Bed

Cassandra’s POV

I truly had no idea what to do after receiving a call from the man… the one who claimed he was my husband.

Of course, I knew he wasn’t lying—no one else knew about this marriage except for us, my mother, Daxton, and the man who’d just been angry with me.

Now, I wasn’t sure how long I’d been wandering the city aimlessly. All I knew was that I’d left my mother after ensuring she got home in the Uber I ordered for her. I didn’t go back with her, claiming I had something else to do. But my “something else” was walking with no direction, hoping to somehow disappear into another city after a day of wandering.

After walking for hours and as the day grew dark, I entered a bar on the side of the road. This wasn’t a place I’d normally visit, but here I was after all the craziness I’d gone through.

Franco, my best friend, would be furious if he knew I was drinking without him. My mother would also be disappointed if she saw what I was doing. But what else could calm me down besides wine?

“One more glass, please.”

I knew I was starting to get drunk, but I didn’t want to stop filling my glass. It was the only thing making me forget about everything, even for a moment.

“Did you come alone?” the bartender asked as I laid my head on the counter. Everything felt heavy—my head, my blurry vision.

I couldn’t remember how many drinks I’d had, but I’d been sitting there for nearly an hour, never stopping when my glass was empty.

“Should I have come with my mom?” If I were sober, I would never answer that way. But now, something felt different—something made me brave enough to say anything that crossed my mind without a second thought.

“If you’re alone, maybe don’t drink too much. You’re already drunk, and it’s not even midnight.”

“Can you just give me my drink without the comments?” I looked up, annoyed.

“As you wish, ma’am,” he said, pouring another drink for me.

One more glass, then maybe I should go home. I probably wouldn’t be able to order a taxi if I stayed here any longer.

Right after finishing my drink, I pulled my phone from my bag, attempting to order an Uber. Unfortunately, my vision was too blurred to use it properly.

Damn. It was all because of the alcohol.

"Need help, Miss?" A man’s hand extended toward me, and I looked up to see who it belonged to. He’d been sitting next to me, though we hadn’t spoken because I’d been too absorbed in my glass. I wasn’t here to chat, after all.

"I just got married," I said, half-annoyed. "You should address me by my husband’s last name." I could hardly see his face through my blurry vision, but his cologne cut through the haze of smoke and the alcohol on his breath.

I was probably insane for saying that. Or maybe the alcohol had taken over my mind completely.

"Alright then," he chuckled. "So what are you doing in a place like this? Isn’t this the last place you’d expect a married woman to be?"

"Having fun?" I answered with a frown, unsure of my own response. I knew I wouldn’t find any fun here. So, I signaled the bartender, tapping my glass against the counter to get his attention.

"Are you serious? You’re really drunk, Miss. I’m worried you won’t be able to get home on your own."

"Why are you so worried about how I’ll get home?" I thought about ordering another glass, and it didn’t seem like a bad idea. Or maybe it was a terrible idea—one that would only create more problems. But after today, one more problem didn’t seem to matter.

"Give it to her," the man beside me instructed, and the bartender complied immediately.

I didn’t care what was going on. I simply took the glass and drained it again.

"How much have you had to drink? Are you just going to have fun with that glass?" The man pulled my chair closer, narrowing the space between us.

Well, he did smell nice. I liked his cologne!

"Is there anything more fun than this?" I asked, my eyes half-lidded as the room spun around me.

"Absolutely. I have plenty of ways to make things more fun." He leaned in, his face close enough that I could feel his cool breath. His lips hovered beside my ear, and his scent filled my senses, mingling with smoke and alcohol. "Want to find out?"

I felt my body freeze when his lips brushed against my ear, whispering softly before his tongue grazed the edge. His hand rested on my lap, moving subtly beneath the fabric of my dress.

This… this wasn’t supposed to happen.

But his cologne—it was intoxicating.

"Show me, then." The words left my mouth with difficulty. My breath caught as his lips traveled from my ear to the chilled skin of my neck.

My eyes closed as an unfamiliar warmth spread through me. At first, I felt a shiver, but his cold lips brought an undeniable heat. He was setting me on fire, and I let it happen.

This was wrong! But I didn’t want it to stop. Something inside me longed for more—a sensation beyond the soft caress on my neck.

"Find your room, please. This is a bar, not a hotel suite!" the bartender’s voice broke through, and the man pulled back.

My breath was ragged, my mind scrambled. My face flushed, and I suddenly craved another drink.

I should’ve been heading back to my house, not sitting in a bar, tangled up with a stranger.

"Want to move this somewhere else?" The man’s hand lingered beneath my dress, his voice low.

I didn’t know what I wanted…

"You can leave now—I’m giving you that choice. But if you say yes, there’s no turning back." He whispered softly, lips brushing my ear.

A choice. He was giving me a choice—not like my father or anyone else who’d been in my life, not like the man who forced me into marriage even though we’d never met.

This man was giving me a choice.

And I had my answer.

"Show me your room," I murmured.

***

He had a hotel room upstairs from the bar. I hadn’t realized that the bar was part of a hotel, and now I felt a little foolish. His arm wrapped around my waist, guiding me through the hallway in my rumpled white dress. My memory was intact enough to remember that I’d just married earlier today. But here I was, walking through a hotel corridor with a stranger.

This was, without a doubt, the craziest decision I’d ever made.

Our footsteps filled the silence as he unlocked the door with his access card. My eyes roamed the luxurious room as we entered.

"What’s your name?" The man brushed a strand of hair off my face, his warm fingers gliding across my skin. "You have perfect green eyes."

I looked up, annoyed that I couldn’t see his face clearly. Between the alcohol and my lost contact lenses, my vision was hazy.

"Cassandra. And yours?" I closed my eyes as his lips touched my neck again, his warm tongue grazing my skin.

"I don’t share my name. You can call me whatever you like." His hands shifted to lift me, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist. In seconds, I found myself lying on a soft, yet surprisingly cold, bed.

He stood at the end of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt, then joined me, reigniting the warmth his lips had brought earlier. But now, he didn’t go for my neck—he kissed my lips.

I hadn’t expected this. But once again, I felt powerless under the effects of the alcohol.

His kiss didn’t just warm my lips—it set my entire body on fire. My dress suddenly felt too tight, and I craved something more. This was driving me crazy, especially as his hands began exploring higher, almost brushing my chest beneath the fabric.

"What should I do?" I asked as he broke our kiss. My hand gripped his arm, feeling the tension of his muscles, knowing his hand would’ve reached my chest if I hadn’t held him back.

"Just follow my lead," he murmured, leaning down once more.

I thought he was going to kiss my lips again, so I closed my eyes. But instead, his mouth moved lower, pressing against my chest.

"Oh… you’re good at this," I gasped, surprised at my own response to his touch.

He looked up from my chest, smiling before capturing my lips in another passionate kiss. As he’d instructed, I reciprocated, my legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed me into the bed.

Amid our heated exchange, he paused to whisper, a short smile on his lips. "So, you chose my hotel room over your own place. Smart choice, wife."

Damn. This man… was Alexavier?