The night was still. Too still for someone like Alexander , who had survived boardroom wars with the calm of a man who drank lava for breakfast.
But tonight?
Tonight he was watching his woman sleep.
His woman?
Ayaana.
Curled into a blanket on his bed like she belonged there, twitching slightly as if she were battling dragons in her dreams.
“…no… not the Dragon monster… get away…”
Alexander narrowed his eyes. “Dragon… monster?”
He sat on the edge of the bed, fingers laced together, elbows on knees.
His thoughts were… loud.
This woman. This ridiculous, kind, chaotic woman. She made him feel God forbid—soft.
The warmth, the worry, the ache he’d felt when she collapsed, the way his hands trembled when he carried her, like porcelain that might break. He had no word for it.
But he knew it wasn’t temporary.
He leaned in slightly, brushing a stray hair from her cheek. His voice was barely audible.
“I’m in love with you, .”
She mumbled in response, “Fight me, you thief…”
Alexander blinked.
Right. She was fully unconscious. Not that he would’ve said it aloud if she wasn’t.
Still, in the dark, something in him shifted.
Without ceremony because he didn’t do ceremony—he slipped a small ring off his pinky (a platinum band, minimalistic) and slid it onto her ring finger.
“I’ll marry you. Eventually,” he muttered. “Whether you want it or not.”
She groaned and kicked the air.
Alexander sighed. “Charming.”
Then, like an ancient horror rising from the grave, he caught a glint of white in the mirror.
He stilled. Got up. Walked over.
Leaned closer.
There it was.
One white hair.
“…No.”
He stood there staring at it like it had personally insulted his lineage. Then pulled out his phone and called Raymond.
“Sir?” Raymond answered immediately.
“There’s something… concerning.”
A pause.
“Sir? Is it Miss Ayaana? The security? The Mansionaccount—”
“I have a white hair.”
Silence.
More silence.
Then Dimitri, his bodyguard
“…What?”
Alexander grunted. “You heard me.”
Raymond: “Sir, respectfully, what do you want us to do?”
“Fix it.”
“How… sir?”
“I don’t know, reverse time?!”
Ten minutes later, still sulking in front of the mirror like a betrayed vampire, he realized Ayaana’s phone was buzzing nonstop.
Family.
Friends.
Missed calls. Dozens.
He checked the time.
8:45 p.m.
Then he did something unimaginable: he called her mother.
“Ayaana!” her mother screamed. “WHERE Are You ! WHO IS THIS?! WHO KIDNAPPED HER?!”
Alexander held the phone away from his ear, face blank.
“This is Mr. Matthew desilva .”
“Mr. Who?!”
“…Alexander ”
There was a pause.
Then, an explosion.
“Oh my GOD! Sir?! Sir, she didn’t come home! She’s not picking calls! Her brother is about to storm the station! I even sent her best friend to the hostel! We thought she was with some dracula in castle Or something !”
Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s not in a castle.”
“Where IS she?”
He lied smoothly. “She’s working. We have an urgent presentation tomorrow. She’s fine.”
“She didn’t even take a sweater! What kind of company makes girls work during cramps?! Are you feeding her? Did she eat something? She didn’t even have medicines!”
Alexander paused.
“...She’s resting,” he said, softer than he meant to.
“She better be. And call her brother before he hacks into your office security.”
He disconnected without a word.
He looked at Ayaana, who stirred again.
Then suddenly shouted in her sleep, “Maa! Don’t give the choci milk to the neighbor cat!”
He stared.
That woman had just screamed about chocolate milk and her mother in the same breath.
And for the first time in years…
Alexander laughed.
One, small, genuine laugh.
Then he whispered to himself, “So that’s where the talking comes from.”
He walked out of the room, white hair, chaos, and all.
He had a woman to take care of.
And a proposal to repeat.
Properly.
When she wasn’t threatening choci thieves in her dreams.
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