Page 5 of Alpha’s Fake Marriage

But amidst the laughter and easy banter with my boss, I couldn’t help but notice there lingered an undeniable tension—a spark of attraction that crackled between us. At first, I tried to ignore it, dismissing it as nothing more than a figment ofmy imagination. Yet, as the days passed and our interactions grew more frequent, I could no longer deny the truth—there was something between us, something that overstepped the boundaries of boss and employee.

I liked him. I really liked him, and I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like he liked me too.

It was in the lingering glances and the subtle touches, in the way our laughter lingered a little longer than necessary, that I realized the depth of our connection. And as the realization washed over me, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in the pit of my stomach. But even as the attraction between us simmered beneath the surface, Octavio was ever the gentleman, always mindful of our professional relationship. He never pushed the boundaries, always ensuring that I was comfortable with each flirtatious exchange before proceeding.

“So, Irina,” Octavio began, a playful twinkle in his hazel eyes, “tell me, do you have any hidden talents I should know about?”

I chuckled, rolling my eyes playfully. “Oh, you know, the usual—juggling chainsaws, tight rope walking over lava pits. Just the basics.”

He laughed, a rich, melodic sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Impressive. But I think I’ll pass on the lava pits for now.”

I grinned, feeling a warmth spread through me at the easy banter between us. “Probably a wise choice. Wouldn’t want to singe those perfectly styled locks of yours.”

Octavio feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “Hey now, these locks are a work of art. It takes hours of meticulous grooming to achieve this level of perfection.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within me. “Well, it’s definitely paying off. You’re practically glowing.”

He flashed me a dazzling smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Why, thank you, Irina. You’re not looking too shabby yourself, if I do say so.”

I felt a blush creep in to my cheeks at his compliment, suddenly acutely aware of his proximity to me. “Oh, stop it, you’re making me blush.”

Octavio grinned, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “And what a lovely shade of red it is. Matches your eyes perfectly.”

I bit my lip, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of my lips. “You’re too much, Octavio.”

He shrugged, a playful smirk playing on his lips. “Just calling it like I see it.”

But beneath the surface, there was a constant undercurrent of tension. Occasionally, in an attempt to get closer to me, Octavio would ask about my past or my family. I was forced to weave another web of lies to conceal the truth. I hated deceiving him, but the fear of what might happen if our secret were revealed outweighed my guilt.

As we spent more time together, Octavio’s curiosity about my background only seemed to grow, and I found myself dodging his questions with increasing frequency. Each evasion felt like another blow to our budding friendship, but I couldn’t risk exposing the truth.

This didn’t help the constant nightmares I was experiencing either—the memories of the night we fled, the terror of being hunted, the desperation of knowing that our lives depended on our ability to disappear without a trace. They haunted me every time I closed my eyes, a constant reminder of the danger that still lurked in the shadows… it was always there as a reminder that even though life was good now, it might not always stay that way…

As the week progressed,a glimmer of hope appeared on our horizon in the form of a wired transfer from a distant relative of my mother. With the newfound funds, we were able to secure a small apartment in this little quaint town, allowing us to get out of that hotel at long last to our own little sanctuary away from the prying eyes and looming threats that had plagued us for so long.

Entering the modest space for the first time, I watched as my mother’s eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. The apartment was cozy, with sun-drenched windows that spilled warmth into every corner. A quaint kitchenette nestled in one corner boasted a small stove and refrigerator, while a worn but comfortable sofa beckoned invitingly in the living area.

But it was the bedrooms that truly stole our hearts. Hers had a soft, queen-sized bed that dominated the space, draped in crisp linens and piled high with plump pillows. A single window overlooked a narrow alleyway, casting gentle rays of sunlight on the polished hardwood floor. Mine was smaller, but the views of the mountains really clinched it for me.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I allowed myself to exhale, the weight of the world slipping from my shoulders as I took in the sight of our new home. It wasn’t much—a far cry from the opulent mansions of my childhood—but it was ours, and that was all that mattered…

Relief flooded through me as we settled into our new apartment, but beneath the surface, a current of worry churned relentlessly. The wired transfer, though a lifeline in our time of need, was also a beacon that could potentially lead my father and his associates straight to our doorstep. It was somethingtangible, a paper trail that could honestly lead them right here—right to us.

With each passing day, the nagging fear gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, a constant reminder of the precariousness of our situation. My father was not one to let go easily, especially when it came to matters of pride and control. The thought that he and his cronies could somehow trace the transaction and discover our whereabouts weighed heavily on my mind, casting a shadow over our newfound sense of security.

Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound outside our window, sent a shiver of apprehension down my spine. I found myself constantly checking over my shoulder, half expecting to see my father’s menacing figure looming in the shadows, ready to drag us back into the suffocating embrace of his control.

But despite the fear that threatened to consume me, I refused to let it dictate our lives. We had fought too hard, endured too much, to allow ourselves to be cowed into submission once again. With each passing day, I resolved to be vigilant, to stay one step ahead of my father and his relentless pursuit.

As I watched my mother go about her daily routines, her smile a beacon of hope in the darkness, I knew we would weather this storm together. We had faced adversity before and emerged stronger for it. As long as we had each other, I was confident that we could overcome whatever challenges lay ahead, no matter how formidable they may seem.

Even if it was my father…

I hoped.

An idea lingered in the recesses of my mind, tantalizing yet terrifying in equal measure. Could I trust Octavio with the truth? Would he stand by me, unwavering in his support, or would he recoil in horror at the extent of my past? He would be good to askfor help in this mess because he was so nice and kindhearted, but what if it ruined everything?

What if my past destroyed my future?

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