Page 88 of The Alpha's Crimson Vow

I take a slow breath, smoothing my hands down the fitted black dress hugging my body.I’ll find a way.

And then, just like that, the hours vanish. Before I know it, I’m in a taxi, watching the city lights flicker through the window, my stomach twisting with nerves.

By the time I step into the restaurant, I take a glance at my reflection in a passing mirror—just a fleeting check. I look good. Collected. But my pulse betrays me, quick and uneven as I walk toward our reserved table.

Alex is already there. And my goodness, he looks immaculate. Dark suit, sharp lines, effortless elegance. He rises as I approach, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that makes warmth curl in my stomach. Then, he leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my lips.

My knees go weak.

For a second, I let myself sink into the moment.

He pulls back, smiling down at me, and then, in that effortless way of his, he pulls out my chair, his hand guiding me gently at the small of my back as I sit.

The heat of his touch lingers as he rounds the table, taking his seat, and for a moment, I just look at him.

God, I missed him.

We order, and as we start eating, I realize just how much I missed this, too. The easy intimacy of sharing a meal with him. Whether it’s salty ramen in my office at some ungodly hour or sitting across from him in a dimly lit restaurant. It’s always comfortable. It always feels like home.

Alex watches me, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You feel it too, right?”

I glance up, swallowing a bite of food. “Feel what?”

He leans forward slightly, his voice low, intimate. “How good this feels. I’ve missed having meals with you so much.”

My heart clenches, and I can’t help but smile. “Yeah. I feel it.”

For a moment, everything is perfect. But just then, his phone rings. He sighs, already reaching for it. “I’m just going to hang up. Tonight is about you.” But the second he sees the name on the screen, his expression switches.

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking up at me, his brows slightly furrowed. “I have to take this one.”

I nod, watching quietly as he lifts the phone to his ear.

“Jack, what is it?”

His tone is all business now. That controlled authority he wears so naturally. But then, as he listens, something changes.

It’s subtle—his jaw tightening, his brows drawing in—but I see it. Feel it. The way a seriousness settles over him, the way his entire posture stiffens. Whatever he’s hearing, it’s doesn’t seem good.

He barely says anything, just low, measuredhmm-hmms, absorbing whatever is being relayed to him.

Then, finally— “I’ll call you back, Jack.” He hangs up, staring down at his plate, his expression unreadable.

I hesitate before asking, “Everything okay?”

He glances up, forcing a small smile. “Yes. Everything’s fine. Just some little issues back in the kingdoms in Europe.”

It’s feels like a lie. Or at least, not the full truth. I can see it in the way his fingers tap against the table, the slight crease in his brow.

I press again. “Alex.”

He shakes his head. “Katherine, it’s fine. Tonight is about you. I won’t let anything get in the way of this.”

And just like that, he pushes it aside. We eat in silence for a bit, but I can barely focus. The pregnancy. The question I need to ask. It’s a constant drumbeat in my head, and finally, I can’t hold it in anymore.

“So,” I say carefully, “last night. Do you remember when I said I’d always wanted children? That I wanted to make sure they always feel special?”

Alex stills. It’s barely noticeable—the way his shoulders tense, the way his hand stills mid-motion—but I see it.

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