POV:) Juliet Anderson

The soft glow of the bedside lamp bathed our room in warmth, the world outside drowned in silence. After an exhausting day, this—this—was what I needed.

Alex held me close, his strong arms wrapped protectively around my waist as I absentmindedly traced my fingers through the rough scruff of his beard. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against my back was the only sound I could focus on, grounding me.

His scent, the feeling of his skin against mine—it was home.

"Don't stress so much," I murmured, breaking the peaceful silence.

Alex let out a slow breath. "Babygirl, after everything that happened today, I was worried."

I turned slightly in his embrace to look at him. His eyes were dark with concern, laced with something deeper—something he wasn’t saying.

I forced a small smile. "Remember, I had that interview? I didn’t get selected."

He exhaled through his nose, rubbing slow circles on my lower back. "It’s okay, love. I got mine, right?"

“You don’t have to work when I’m with you,” he added, voice laced with conviction. “Especially in this condition.”

My entire body stiffened. My heart pounded.

Condition?

I pushed against his chest, sitting up abruptly. “What do you mean by condition?” My voice was sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t help it.

Alexander looked momentarily taken aback but quickly reached for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. “Love, I just meant that you’re pregnant. You shouldn’t—”

I pulled my hand away, anger and frustration bubbling inside me. “I’m pregnant, not sick, Alexander! I’m perfectly healthy, mentally and physically!” My breath hitched as emotions I had been bottling up for days started to spill over. “Just because I’m carrying our child doesn’t mean I’m weak or incapable!”

Alex sat up, his hands reaching for me, but I shifted away, feeling the tears sting my eyes before I could stop them.

“Juliet…” His voice softened instantly, filled with concern. “Did someone say something to you?”

And just like that, the dam broke.

I choked on a sob, shaking my head as the weight of everything hit me all at once. The stress, the doubt, the whispers, the expectations—I had been holding it in, trying to be strong.

I didn’t even realize how much it was eating me alive.

Alex didn’t hesitate.

He pulled me into his lap, wrapping me up in his arms, his hand cradling the back of my head as he whispered soothing words against my hair. “Shh, love. It’s okay. Let it out.”

I buried my face into his chest, gripping his shirt as if it was the only thing holding me together.

"Juliet, what happened?" His voice was gentle now, no longer defensive. Caring. Patient.

I bit my lip, but the dam had already broken. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as I choked out, "They rejected me, Alex. The interviewer… they found out I was pregnant, and that’s all they saw. Not my experience. Not my qualifications. Not my work. Just the fact that I’m having a baby. They didn’t even give me a fair chance."

I gripped his hands tightly, sobs shaking my body as I pressed my face into his chest. "Is it my fault? Am I being punished for wanting a career? I didn’t even ask for the interview, they invited me!"

Alex’s body tensed beneath me, his arms tightening around me like a shield. "No, baby," he murmured against my hair. "No, it’s not your fault. Not even close. It’s theirs. Those closed-minded bastards who think a woman’s worth disappears the moment she carries life inside her."

His voice was dangerously low, filled with anger—not at me, never at me—but at the world that dared to make me feel this way.

I clung to him as his warmth surrounded me, his fingers threading through my hair. "I never want you to feel humiliated like that again, Juliet. Never."

I sniffled, my tears wetting his shirt. "But what if this keeps happening? What if no one ever gives me a chance?"

He pulled back slightly, tilting my chin up so I had no choice but to meet his gaze. Fierce. Unyielding. Loving.

"Then we build something of our own," he whispered, brushing a tear from my cheek. "You want to teach? You want to work? Then we’ll find a way. And if the world refuses to see your worth, I’ll make damn sure they regret it."

I let out a watery laugh, shaking my head. "You can’t fight everyone for me, Alex."

His lips curled into a dangerous smirk. "Watch me."

His words were a promise. A vow.

And in his arms, I knew—I’d never be alone in this fight.

Alex held me for what felt like an eternity, his hands running soothingly down my back, grounding me in his warmth. My tears had stopped, but the ache in my chest lingered—the humiliation, the frustration, the injustice of it all.

I wasn’t some helpless girl who needed saving. But tonight… I needed him.

After a long silence, he kissed the top of my head, his voice steady but low. “Come on, babygirl. Let’s get you comfortable.”

I let him guide me back down onto the bed, still curled into his chest. His fingers traced slow patterns on my bare shoulder as he spoke.

“I know it hurts, love. And I won’t sit here and tell you to just ‘forget it’ because I know you. You don’t just forget. But I need you to promise me something.”

I swallowed, tilting my face up to look at him. His stormy blue eyes searched mine, filled with something deeper than just concern.

“What?” I whispered.

His grip on me tightened just slightly. “Promise me you won’t start doubting yourself because of this.”

I blinked at him, my heart twisting.

“Juliet, you’re the strongest damn woman I’ve ever met. You’ve fought battles most people wouldn’t survive, and you’re still here, standing tall. This?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “This rejection? It doesn’t define you. It doesn’t change how capable, intelligent, and unstoppable you are. They didn’t deserve you.”

A lump formed in my throat as I absorbed his words.

I didn’t even realize I was crying again until Alex wiped another tear from my cheek.

“Babygirl…” His voice softened, and I felt his lips press against my forehead. “I love you. And I swear to you, anyone who underestimates you will regret it.”

I let out a shaky laugh, curling my fingers into his shirt. “You really need to stop threatening people in my honor.”

He smirked. “No chance.”

His arms tightened around me, and I melted into him, my body finally relaxing after the weight of the day.

“Alex?” I murmured sleepily.

“Yeah, love?”

“I promise.”

I felt him exhale, his grip on me easing just slightly as if my words had lifted some invisible burden off his shoulders.

“Good,” he whispered, kissing my hair one last time. “Now sleep, my love. I’ve got you.”

And with my head against his heartbeat, steady and strong, I finally let myself rest.

I woke up to the feeling of warm lips pressing against my temple, soft and lingering. The scent of Alex—fresh linen, sandalwood, and something uniquely him—wrapped around me like a cocoon.

“Morning, babygirl,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

I hummed in response, my body instinctively pressing closer to his warmth. His arms were still wrapped around me, like he was afraid to let go, even in sleep.

“Did you even sleep?” I whispered, my fingers tracing the ridges of his knuckles where they rested against my waist.

He sighed, shifting so his forehead rested against mine. “Not much.”

I pulled back slightly to look at him. His eyes were tired, but the moment they met mine, something in them softened.

“Alex,” I murmured, reaching up to cup his face. “You have to stop worrying so much.”

His jaw clenched. “I can’t help it, Juliet. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

I swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the depth of his love for me.

So, I did the only thing that made sense—I kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate, just pure, consuming warmth. My lips moved against his, slow and tender, trying to tell him what my words couldn’t—that I loved him, that I was okay, that we were in this together.

He sighed into the kiss, his grip on me tightening.

When we finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet morning air.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he whispered, his voice husky.

I smiled. “Why?”

His fingers traced slow circles on my hip. “Because every time I think I can’t love you more… you prove me wrong.”

A flush crept up my neck, but I didn’t look away. Instead, I teased, “Well, that’s good because you’re stuck with me, Mr. Wolfe.”

His smirk was devastating. “Forever, babygirl.”

I sighed happily, melting back into his embrace, knowing that no matter what came next, we had each other.

The kitchen was filled with the rich scent of coffee and sizzling butter, but my focus wasn’t on breakfast—it was on Alex.

He stood by the stove, sleeves rolled up, muscles flexing as he flipped pancakes with effortless ease. His jaw clenched in concentration, his messy bed hair making him look sinfully irresistible.

I leaned against the counter, arms folded, just watching him.

"Are you planning to help, babygirl?" His deep, husky voice broke through my daze.

I smirked. "Nope. I think I like this—watching my hot, ex-CEO fiancé make me breakfast."

He turned, arching a brow, a playful glint in his dark eyes. "So, I’m just eye candy to you now?"

I licked my lips. "Very expensive eye candy."

He moved fast—caging me against the counter before I could react. His hands pressed into the marble on either side of me, his body heat rolling off him in waves.

"Say that again," he murmured, voice dark, teasing, dangerous.

I swallowed, heart pounding. "Eye candy," I whispered, challenging him.

His eyes darkened with something primal, something possessive. One hand slid to my waist, fingers pressing just enough to send a shiver up my spine.

"Careful, Juliet," he warned, his lips ghosting over my ear, the warmth of his breath making my knees weak. "You keep looking at me like that, and we won’t be eating breakfast anytime soon."

I sucked in a breath, my body betraying me as heat coiled low in my stomach.

He smirked, sensing his effect on me. Cocky bastard.

But then, he pulled away, going back to flipping pancakes like he hadn’t just set my entire body on fire.

"Eat first," he said, voice filled with mock innocence. "You have college, remember?"

I glared. "I hate you."

He winked. "No, you don’t, babygirl. You love me."

I grabbed a fork and stabbed a pancake a little too aggressively, making him chuckle.

And damn it—I did love him.

After breakfast, I got ready for college, slipping into a simple yet flattering dress. Alex sat on the bed, watching me as I adjusted my makeup.

"You’re staring," I said, catching his gaze in the mirror.

His smirk was slow, deliberate. "Just memorizing every inch of you."

Heat flushed my cheeks. "You’re impossible."

He got up, walking toward me like a predator stalking prey. "And yet, you wouldn’t have me any other way."

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. "Text me if you need anything, okay?"

He pulled me in for a slow, deep kiss, his lips claiming mine, leaving me breathless before murmuring against my mouth, "Miss me, babygirl."

Oh, I would. I always did.

The campus buzzed with its usual morning energy—students rushing to classes, groups chatting by the fountain, the crisp autumn air carrying the faint scent of coffee and fresh paper.

But my focus was entirely on Sienna.

She stepped out of an expensive black car, the engine purring like a beast before the driver sped off so fast it was almost suspicious.

I frowned. What the hell was that?

Sienna turned away from me immediately, walking toward the main hall with quick, almost frantic steps. Her arms were crossed, her posture tense—like she was hiding something.

I pulled out my phone, texting her.

Me: Sienna, what’s going on?

No response.

I called.

She declined it.

Okay, now I was pissed.

I rushed forward, grabbing her wrist, forcing her to stop.

"Sienna," I demanded, my voice firm but concerned. "Why are you avoiding me?"

She stiffened but didn’t turn around immediately.

"Let me go, Juliet," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

I didn’t. Something was off.

"Sienna, talk to me," I pleaded. "Who was that in the car? Why won’t you look at me?"

She finally turned—and my stomach dropped.

Her eyes were puffy, like she had been crying all night. There was a faint bruise on her wrist, barely visible under her long sleeves.

I inhaled sharply.

"Who did this to you?" My voice was deadly calm, but my heart was raging.

She shook her head, biting her lip, eyes darting around as if someone was watching.

"It’s nothing, Juliet," she said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Just drop it, okay? Please."

No. Absolutely not.

I wasn’t going to let this slide.

But before I could push further, she suddenly yanked her hand away and walked off—her pace quick, almost desperate.

I stood there, frozen, my mind racing.

Who the hell was she running from?

And more importantly—who just dropped her off in that car?