Chapter 427

Chapter 427:

Alexander’s chest tightened, his heart hammering against his ribs. Actual proof— not just circumstantial evidence, but Victoria’s signature on documents specifically targeting his uncle. Her handwritten approval of a strategy designed to break a man already struggling with depression.

He typed a quick reply with his good hand: Can’t call today. She’s never alone. Send document scans through secure server. Will check tonight.

Alexander stared at his reflection in the replacement mirror, installed yesterday after his outburst. The man looking back appeared normal on the surface—perhaps tired, the bandaged hand noticeable but not alarming. No visible sign of the rot spreading inside him, the decay of his wedding vows even as he spoke them.

“Alex?” Camille’s sleepy voice called from the bedroom. “Where are you?”

He quickly deleted the conversation thread, closed the app, and splashed cold water on his face. “Just washing up,” he called back, forcing warmth into his voice. “Coffee on the terrace in ten minutes?”

“Perfect.” Her voice already sounded more awake, eager for another day in paradise.

Alexander leaned against the sink, gathering himself. Time to become the perfect husband again. Time to bury “Guardian” and his messages beneath smiles, touches, and all the outward signs of honeymoon bliss.

Breakfast overlooked the blue sweep of the Mediterranean, their private terrace fragrant with potted herbs and fresh bread from the local bakery. Alexander poured coffee into Camille’s cup, carefully maintaining the role he had perfected.

“I thought we could visit that little cove again today,” he suggested, passing her a plate of sliced fruit. “Just us, a blanket, some wine.”

Camille’s smile lit up her entire face. In these moments, Alexander could almost forget the parallel life he lived through coded messages and secret plans. Almost.

“Perfect,” she said, reaching across the table to touch his unbandaged hand.

“Though I’m not sure how much swimming you should do with those stitches.”

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“I’ll manage.” He lifted her fingers to his lips, watching her eyes soften. This much, at least, was real—his desire for her, his body’s response to her presence, the physical connection that remained undiminished by his secret communications.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Both their gazes dropped to the sound.

“Work again?” Camille asked lightly, though something in her eyes suggested the question wasn’t entirely casual.

“Probably nothing important,” he answered, ignoring the device. “They know we’re on our honeymoon.”

Camille nodded, but her smile dimmed slightly. Had she noticed his morning absences? The moments when his thoughts drifted during conversation? The way he sometimes checked his phone when he thought she was sleeping? The buzz came again, insistent. Alexander gritted his teeth. “Guardian” knew better than to message twice in succession unless it was critical.

“You should check it,” Camille said, sipping her coffee. “Might be something about Pierce Enterprises.”

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