The temptation of my brother-in-law-Chapter 72 - seventy two

Chapter Seventy-Two

Malachi’s POV

The whole party was going well, considering. Well enough that I hadn’t killed anyone yet, which felt like an achievement given the circumstances.

Lucas was there. Standing near the windows like he had every right to breathe the same air as Alicia. His hand was bandaged. Good. He’d remember what happened when he got too close to what was mine.

Every time I caught sight of him, my hands curled into fists. The urge to finish what I’d started in that warehouse pulsed through me like a second heartbeat. But I held back. Barely. This was Alicia’s night. I wouldn’t ruin it by breaking Lucas into smaller pieces.

Then there was Jason. The man who’d approached Alicia at the bar with that calculating smile. The one who’d looked at her like she was something to be acquired. Something he’d missed out on and now wanted back.

I wanted to strangle him. Wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until that smile disappeared permanently. Until he understood that looking at Alicia like that was a privilege he’d never have again.

But I controlled myself. Marked my territory in other ways. Made it clear to him and everyone watching that Alicia was off limits.

Mine.

Now I stood off to the side, a drink in my hand that I hadn’t touched, watching Alicia dance in the crowd.

She’d taken off her shoes. Just slipped them off and left them by the edge of the dance floor without a second thought. So typically her. Practical. Unconcerned with appearances when her comfort was at stake.

It made me smile. A real smile that felt foreign on my face.

She was dancing freely now. No careful movements. No controlled elegance. Just pure joy and abandon. Her silver hair caught the lights as she moved. Her dress flowed around her legs. She looked alive in a way I rarely saw.

This was the Alicia she should always be. Happy. Free. Unburdened by the weight of this toxic family and everything it represented.

I picked up her shoes from where she’d left them. Expensive heels she’d probably never remember to look for. I held them loosely in one hand, content to watch her dance.

The music shifted. Something slower. More intimate.

I was about to go claim her. To pull her into my arms and make it clear to everyone in this room that she belonged with me.

But then I saw him.

A man in a mask. Moving through the crowd toward her. His hands found her waist before I could react.

My entire body went rigid. Every muscle coiled tight with the urge to cross that distance and break his hands.

But Alicia didn’t pull away. Didn’t look uncomfortable. Just kept dancing with this stranger.

Who the hell was he?

I watched them move together. Watched his hands on her waist. Watched them talk. Too close. Too familiar.

My grip tightened on her shoes. The leather creaked under my fingers.

I should go over there. Should cut in. Should make it clear that she was with me.

But something stopped me. Maybe it was the way she was smiling. Maybe it was not wanting to cause a scene. Maybe it was giving her this moment of normalcy before I dragged her back into the darkness of our reality.

Or maybe I just wanted to see what this stranger wanted. Why he was approaching her. What game he was playing.

Because it was clearly a game. Men didn’t approach women wearing masks at parties unless they had something to hide.

The song ended. The stranger stepped back. Said something that made Alicia’s face go pale. Then he disappeared into the crowd before I could get a good look at him.

I was already moving toward Alicia when Jennifer intercepted me.

"Malachi Blackwood," she purred, stepping directly into my path. "I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you."

I tried to step around her. "Not now."

"Oh, come on. Just a few minutes." She placed her hand on my arm. "I’d love to get to know you better. Alicia’s so lucky to have found you."

Her fingers trailed up my arm. Suggestive. Obvious.

I looked down at her hand, then back at her face. "Remove your hand."

"Don’t be like that. We’re all adults here."

"Remove. Your hand."

Something in my voice made her smile falter. She pulled back slightly. "I was just being friendly."

"I’m not interested in your friendship. Or anything else you’re offering."

Her face flushed. Embarrassment mixed with anger. "You don’t have to be rude."

"And you don’t have to throw yourself at married men." I stepped around her. "Excuse me."

I left her standing there and made my way through the crowd. Looking for Alicia. For that silver hair that should be easy to spot.

I found her near the bar again. But something was wrong.

She was swaying slightly. Her eyes were unfocused. She’d picked up another glass of champagne and was giggling at something Cassie was saying.

Drunk. She was drunk.

I approached and Cassie saw me first. "Oh, there you are. I think someone needs to go home."

"How much has she had?" I asked.

"I don’t know. A few glasses? She kept accepting drinks from people."

Alicia turned and saw me. Her face lit up. "Malachi! There you are!"

She stumbled toward me and I caught her, steadying her against my chest.

"Hi," she said, looking up at me with those wide eyes. "You’re so tall. Have you always been this tall?"

"Alicia, you’re drunk."

"I’m not drunk. I’m just happy." She poked my chest. "You’re always so serious. Why are you so serious all the time?"

"Because someone has to be."

She pouted. Actually pouted like a child denied dessert. "That’s not fair. You should smile more. You have a nice smile."

"We’re going home."

"Nooo," she whined, drawing out the word. "I don’t want to go home. Home is cold and mean."

"Then we’ll go somewhere else. But we’re leaving."

"Can we go to the hotel?" She tugged on my jacket. "I saw a really pretty hotel on the way here. With big windows. Can we stay there?"

I didn’t agree at first. Taking her to a hotel while she was drunk felt wrong. Like I was taking advantage even though all I wanted was to get her somewhere safe.

"Please?" She looked up at me with those eyes. "I don’t want to go back to the mansion. Not tonight. I just want to sleep somewhere that doesn’t feel like a prison."

The words hit harder than they should have. She was right. The mansion was a prison. For both of us.

"Alicia—"

"Please, Malachi." Her hand found mine. Squeezed. "Just for tonight. I want to pretend we’re normal people. Living normal lives. Just you and me."

Just you and me. The words echoed in my chest. Dangerous words. Tempting words.

I looked at her flushed face. Her disheveled hair. The vulnerability in her eyes that the alcohol had stripped bare.

She was asking for one night. One night away from everything. One night to pretend.

How could I say no to that?

"One night," I said finally.

Her face lit up. "Really?"

"Really. But we’re leaving now before you drink anything else."

"Okay!" She was suddenly energetic. "Let’s go! Can we get room service? I’ve never had room service."

"We can get whatever you want."

She grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the exit. I let her, carrying her shoes in my other hand.

Cassie called after us. "Take care of her!"

"I will," I said without looking back.

Getting Alicia to the car was an adventure. She kept stopping to look at things. A fountain. A streetlight. Someone’s expensive car.

"Everything is so pretty," she said. "Why is everything so pretty tonight?"

"Because you’re drunk."

"Maybe. But it’s still pretty." She leaned against me. "You’re pretty too. Did you know that? You have pretty eyes. Dark and dangerous."

"Get in the car, Alicia."

"So bossy," she mumbled but climbed in anyway.

Maurice was waiting. He took one look at Alicia and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Take us to the Grandeur Hotel," I said.

"Not home, sir?"

"No. And get a suite. Top floor if they have it."

"Of course."

During the drive, Alicia curled up against me. Her head on my shoulder. Playing with the buttons on my jacket like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Malachi?" she said softly.

"Yes?"

"Do you think I’m pretty?"

The question caught me off guard. She’d never asked me that before. Never sought that kind of validation.

"You’re beautiful," I said honestly. "The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen."

She was quiet for a moment. Then, "That man with the mask said I was pretty too. But he was scary."

My jaw clenched. "What else did he say?"

"Things he shouldn’t know. About my father." She looked up at me. "How did he know those things?"

"I don’t know. But I’ll find out."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She smiled and closed her eyes. "Good. Because you’re my protector now. You have to keep me safe."

Your protector. The words settled over me like a vow. Like a purpose I’d been searching for without knowing it.

"Always," I said quietly. "I’ll always keep you safe."

But she’d already drifted off. Asleep against my shoulder. Trusting me completely.

I looked down at her peaceful face. At the way she’d let herself be vulnerable with me. Let herself need me.

This woman had become everything. My obsession. My weakness. My reason for breathing.