Chapter 12

HIS PRESENCE.

~LAUREN'S POV~

The rest of the ride was quiet and uncomfortable, broken only by Rosette's angry looks and Fatimah's occasional laughter. Lilac sat quietly, avoiding eye contact, but her presence still added to my stress.

I turned my attention to the water, leaning forward against the railing. The sea stretched out endlessly before me, shimmering under the golden sunlight.

Despite the day spiraling from bad to worse, the view was stunning. The salty breeze kissed my skin, and for a moment, the anxiety in my chest eased.

"You should be careful."

A voice startled me, deep and close, pulling me out of my brief reprieve.

I turned to find Alexandro standing behind me. His phone, the obvious source of his earlier distraction, was nowhere in sight. He looked at me with a casual, unreadable expression that I was beginning to hate.

Right. Him. I'd almost forgotten he was here, which was saying something, considering how impossible it usually was to ignore him.

I should have been grateful for his earlier silence—having him lurking around, protective and overbearing, would have only made this nightmare worse.

"We'll be touching land soon!" the captain called, his voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere.

I turned back toward the horizon, where the faint outline of a dock came into view. Beyond it, a small, lively town seemed to beckon.

Relief washed over me.

Finally. Space. A moment away from all of this—Rosette's judgmental looks, Fatimah's smirks, and, most importantly, him.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I imagined walking away from the group, even just for a little while.

"Are you happy?"

The question came low and soft, catching me off guard.

I flinched, turning to face Alexandro, only to find myself caged. His arms were on either side of me, gripping the railing as he leaned in.

His face hovered far too close, his green eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch.

God, this man was going to drive me insane.

"Do you have any concept of personal space?" I snapped, trying to sound annoyed but hearing the slight tremor in my voice.

"You didn't answer my question," he murmured, ignoring my protest.

"You're so close," I said, more a frustrated exhale than a proper sentence.

"Does that bother you, love?" His tone was teasing now, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he was enjoying my discomfort.

I folded my arms, summoning every ounce of composure I had left. "Why would it bother me? You think your Playboy charm works on me just because it works on everyone else?"

His smirk deepened, and I immediately regretted my words.

"Well, news flash, Romeo," I continued, trying to regain ground, "you're not that attractive, and your tactics are tired."

His brow arched at that, his expression shifting into something equal parts amused and intrigued. The weight of his gaze pinned me in place, and suddenly, I was all too aware of how close he was.

The wind picked up, brushing against my skin, but it wasn't the cold that made me shiver.

"Sweetheart," he began, his voice dropping to a low rumble, "why would I bother with tactics? You're already mine."

My stomach twisted at his words—not with fear, not with anger, but with something far more confusing.

"I'm not yours," I shot back, lifting my chin defiantly. "I'm not one of your properties, Alexandro."

His smirk vanished, replaced by something darker, something sharper.

"Lex," he said, cutting me off.

"What?"

"Call me Lex," he repeated, his tone soft but firm. "If we're going to keep up this charade, it's only natural you'd use my middle name. It's what the public will expect."

I stared at him, caught somewhere between fury and disbelief.

Of course, he'd find a way to twist even this ridiculous fake relationship to suit him. He'd already trampled every boundary we'd set, and now he wanted to dictate how I addressed him.

For a moment, I imagined saying something cutting, something that would knock that self-assured look off his face. But his eyes—sharp and green, locked on mine—made the words stick in my throat.

Instead, I scoffed, brushing past him. "I'll call you Lex when hell freezes over."

His laughter followed me as I stomped across the deck, rich and infuriatingly warm, carrying easily over the sound of the waves.

"It's not funny," I said in annoyance.

"Oh, cupcake, it is funny. This resort keeps getting more fun, and I was planning to tear it down," he said.

The dock loomed closer with every passing second, the town ahead buzzing with life. I focused on the colors of the market stalls and the movement of people, desperate to distract myself from Alexandro's presence.

The man had an infuriating way of getting under my skin, making it impossible to think straight.

"We'll be having dinner when we touch land," Alexandro said, breaking the silence.

I turned to him sharply, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Dinner?"

He nodded, his expression calm, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

"Just the two of us?" I asked, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. "Would you prefer the entire group join us, love?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. I wasn't sure what unsettled me more—his casual assumption or the way my heart skipped when he said "love."

From the corner of my eye, I caught movement. Patrick was looking at me. His gaze lingered, sharp and intense, like he was trying to read my mind.

My stomach twisted. I quickly looked away, fixing my attention back on the dock. Why was he staring at me now? After everything he'd said?

His words from before echoed in my mind, cold and cutting. I'd spent hours trying to forget them, trying to convince myself they didn't matter.

But the tightness in my chest told me otherwise.