Chapter 130

Alexander's POV

The clinking of champagne glasses and the hum of polite laughter faded into a dull roar as I followed Victoria into the lounge. The door clicked shut behind us, sealing us off from the wedding reception—our wedding reception. My chest tightened, a chaotic mess of guilt and desire clawing at me. Summer's face flashed in my mind, her soft smile, the way her eyes used to light up when she looked at me. But then Victoria turned, her red lips curling into that wicked, knowing smirk, and my thoughts scattered like ash in the wind.

She was a vision in her wedding gown—white satin clinging to her figure, the elegance of the dress contrasting with the fire in her eyes. I'd tried to focus on the toasts and the endless parade of guests, but the proximity of her, the way she claimed me with every look, made my resolve crumble. She knew exactly the power she held over me.

"Alexander," she purred, stepping closer, her voice thick with a magnetic heat. "You've been so tense all day. Let me help you relax."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "Victoria, we shouldn't... this is our wedding. People are right outside—"

She pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me. "They are celebrating. No one is going to notice a few missing moments." Her hand slid up my chest, loosening my tie with practiced ease. "Besides, you are my husband now. Why look back?"

That word—husband—hit me like a heavy weight. She was my reality now, a choice I had made, yet the shadow of the past still lingered. But looking at Victoria, the sheer intensity of her presence drowned out the whispers of my conscience.

As she leaned in, our connection became a whirlwind of shared heat and desperate motion. The quiet lounge became a sanctuary where the outside world ceased to exist. Every touch was a silent battle between the man I used to be and the life I had stepped into. I felt the heat surging through me, a primal response to her touch that overwhelmed the nagging guilt in my mind.

We lost ourselves in the shadows of the room, the air growing heavy with a desperate, all-consuming energy. It was fierce and unyielding, a collision of two people bound together by more than just a marriage certificate. For those few moments, I let the fire consume the memories of what I had lost, focusing only on the sharp, electric reality of her presence.

When the intensity finally began to fade, we stayed like that for a moment, breathing heavily in the dim light. My heart pounded, the rush of the moment crashing into a wave of reality. Victoria looked up at me, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"See?" she said, her voice husky. "The world is still turning."

I forced a nod, straightening my clothes as that familiar ache of regret crept back in. Summer. She was out there somewhere, living a life I was no longer a part of, while I stood here, sealing myself into this new life with every breath.

Victoria stood, smoothing her hair and adjusting her gown with effortless grace, returning to the persona of the perfect bride. "Zip me up," she requested.

I obeyed, my fingers brushing her skin, sealing her back into the facade. As we prepared to slip back out into the reception, the sounds of our secret retreat still echoing in my mind, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was chasing a ghost I could never outrun—not even in the arms of my new wife.