Chapter 29 – Cracks in the Walls of the Heart

Celeste gazed out of the slightly open window, allowing the night air to creep in and brush against her weary skin. How long had she been by Alistair's side? How many plans had she made, only to realize that every step she took always led her back to the same place?

Alistair was not a man easily penetrated. Like an impenetrable fortress, he always knew how to keep her within his grasp. But lately, something had been bothering her.

His gaze.

His touch, which should have felt demanding, but sometimes… felt warm.

Celeste shook her head quickly. No. She couldn't fall into this game. But as she turned around, her eyes met his—standing at the doorway, watching her.

"Why aren't you asleep?" His voice was softer than usual.

Celeste remained silent before finally replying, "I can't sleep."

Alistair exhaled quietly. He walked closer, and somehow, Celeste didn't move away like she usually did. There was something in his face tonight—fatigue, or perhaps… loneliness?

"Then sit down," Alistair motioned toward the sofa near the bed.

Without protest, Celeste obeyed. Something that even surprised herself.

Alistair sat beside her, silent for a moment before finally speaking. "I know you hate me, Celeste."

She turned to him, startled by the confession. Alistair stared straight ahead, as if avoiding her gaze.

"You think I only want to imprison you, control you, and make you submit. I don't blame you." He let out a quiet sigh. "I'm not good at this. I only know one way to get what I want—by taking it."

Celeste bit her lip. For the first time, she saw something different in him. Not just dominance or unwavering ego, but a vulnerability that had always been hidden behind his walls.

"I don't hate you," she whispered, unsure why the words slipped so easily from her lips.

Alistair finally turned to face her, and for the first time, Celeste didn't look at him with fear or anger.

Maybe… just maybe, something within her was beginning to change.

Celeste didn't know what was happening to her. She should have pulled away. She should have held on to her hatred for this man. But tonight, something kept her sitting beside Alistair without trying to run.

Silence hung between them.

Alistair stared straight ahead, while Celeste stole glances at him. He looked different tonight. Not like the man who was always in control, always dominating. Tonight… he looked human.

"Why do you treat me like this?" Celeste finally asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Alistair was silent for a moment before answering. "Because I can't lose you."

That answer should have made Celeste angry. Should have. But instead, her heart beat faster.

Alistair turned to her. His dark eyes locked onto hers as if searching for something. "I've lost too much in my life, Celeste. I won't let the same thing happen with you."

Celeste bit her lip, trying to calm the strange fluttering in her chest. "But you can't have someone this way… by force."

Alistair smirked, but there was no arrogance in it. "Maybe you're right."

Celeste was stunned. This was the first time Alistair admitted something without trying to argue.

"I…" Alistair took a deep breath before continuing. "I never learned how to love someone without demanding ownership over them. I only know that when I want something… I have to make sure it's mine."

His words only confused Celeste further.

Did this mean… Alistair truly cared about her?

Or was this just another game he was playing?

Celeste lowered her head. "I'm tired, Alistair."

He nodded slowly, then stood from the sofa. "Go to sleep."

Celeste looked up, slightly surprised. There was no force tonight. No tight grip or commanding words demanding her obedience.

As Alistair turned to leave, Celeste instinctively reached out, her fingers grazing the edge of his suit jacket.

Alistair stopped.

Celeste didn't know why she did it. But when he turned to face her, she only whispered, "Thank you… for not forcing me tonight."

For a moment, something flickered in Alistair's eyes—something Celeste couldn't quite understand.

Then, without another word, he walked out of the room, leaving her alone in the deepening confusion.