Page 10 of Alpha’s Fake Marriage

In my dreams, Octavio was a beacon of warmth and passion, his touch igniting a fire within me that blazed with a fervor I had never known. Together, we navigated a labyrinth of ecstasy, our bodies entwined in a dance of desire that knew no bounds. This was not just a kiss. It was so much more and I truly did not want it to end. I wanted to remain with Octavio forever…

The feel of him, the taste of his lips, the sensation of his body pressed up against mine… it was electrifying.

But just as quickly as the flames of passion had ignited, they were extinguished by the chilling winds of something else. In the depths of my subconscious, a darker force lurked, waiting to claim me as its own.

Suddenly, the scene shifted, and I found myself trapped in a nightmarish tableau. My father’s face loomed over me witha malevolent glint in his eyes. Beside him stood a man named Damien, his presence radiating an aura of danger and menace.

But Damien... Damien was different. His presence was like a shadow, dark and foreboding, his eyes gleaming with a malevolent light that sent shivers down my spine. In my dreams, he was a harbinger of fear, a figure of menace whose very presence filled me with a primal sense of dread.

He wanted me. But to own me. To force me to have lots of children with him.

He wanted me as a possession, but I’d spent my whole life being my father’s possession. I didn’t want to do that anymore. I wanted more for myself and my life. I didn’t want to be married to a gray-eyed monster.

As the two figures converged, their forms merging and shifting in the shifting mists of my mind, I felt a rising sense of panic grip me. Octavio’s comforting presence seemed to wane in the face of Damien’s malevolence, leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed in the face of an unknown threat.

A threat that I feared was going to come for me, no matter how far I ran…

As the morningsun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room, I found myself enveloped in a sense of contentment unlike any I had ever known. The memory of last night’s date with Octavio lingered in my mind like a sweet dream, filling me with a sense of joy and anticipation for the days to come.

As I made my way to the kitchen, the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted me, mingling with the comforting scent of home. My mother was already there, bustling aboutthe room with her usual energy, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she greeted me, her voice filled with a thinly disguised worry. “How did your date with Octavio go last night?”

A blush crept into my cheeks at the mention of Octavio’s name, a telltale sign of the excitement still lingering within me. “It was wonderful, Mom,” I replied, unable to conceal the happiness in my voice. “We went to Maple Creek café and talked. It was perfect.”

My mother’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she poured us each a cup of coffee, her expression a mix of concern and genuine interest. “That sounds lovely, Irina,” she said, her tone gentle. “But are you sure you’re okay? You seem... different somehow.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her observation, reassured by the warmth and familiarity of her presence. “I’m more than okay, Mom,” I assured her, reaching out to squeeze her hand affectionately. “I’m happy. Octavio makes me happy.”

My mother studied me for a moment, her gaze filled with a mixture of pride and concern. “I do want you to be happy, Irina,” she said softly, her voice tinged with emotion. “You deserve nothing less. But I’m worried about letting anyone close to us. Don’t forget we’re hiding here.”

“I trust Octavio, Mom. And I think when you meet him, you will as well.”

She stared at me with distrust in her eyes. It would take a lot for her to trust anyone again, but I hoped she would get there. I really did think that this town was going to be just what we needed. Right now, she was clearly struggling with all of this, but that would change. Given time, I felt like her heart would open up, and she would feel this as her home, just like I did.

I just needed to be patient.

We both did.

SIX

OCTAVIO

The hum of the office seemed distant as I sat at my desk, the glow of the computer screen casting a pale light across the room. My fingers moved deftly over the keyboard as I conducted routine background checks on my new employee, a task I had performed countless times before without incident. It was something I needed to do for paperwork reasons and nothing more.

But as I sifted through the data, my heart skipped a beat as I stumbled upon a discrepancy that sent a shiver of unease coursing down my spine.Irina. Her name blinked back at me from the screen, accompanied by a red flag indicating inconsistencies in the information provided.

I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach as I delved deeper, my mind racing with a thousand questions. Could it be a mistake? Or had Irina intentionally deceived me? What on earth was going on here?

With trembling hands, I pulled up the file, my heart pounding in my chest as I scanned the details. And there, glaring back at me, was the undeniable truth: Irina had given me fake information, fabricating details about her past that didn’t align with the records.

A sense of betrayal washed over me like a tidal wave, leaving me reeling in its wake. I had trusted Irina and believed in our connection, only to discover that she had been hiding something from me all along? She had been given plenty of chances to tell me the truth, even on our date, but she had not done so.

Why?

Anger boiled within me like a tempest as I stared at the screen, the revelation of Irina’s deception twisting like a knife in my gut. How could she have lied to me? Betrayed my trust so callously? The weight of her deceit pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket, threatening to choke the very air from my lungs.

But as the initial wave of fury began to ebb, a different emotion stirred within me, softer yet no less potent: compassion. I couldn’t shake the memory of the fear in Irina’s eyes, the evasiveness in her voice whenever the topic of her past came up. Even in that first interview, and especially on our date.

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