Chapter 98

Brandon's POV

The world outside—the scandals, the photographs, the shadow of the Stark family—faded into nothingness. There was only the heat of her skin and the rhythmic pulse of our shared breath. In the quiet of our bedroom, the intensity between us reached a breaking point.

Every touch was a confession, every whispered breath a promise. I carried her to the bed, the sheer force of our connection overwhelming any need for words. It wasn't just about desire; it was about the profound trust she placed in me, and the possessive need I felt to protect what was ours.

As we moved together, the world narrowed down to the sensation of her hands in my hair and the way she called my name. It was a fire that burned away the last remnants of her past, leaving only the two of us. In that moment of absolute surrender, I knew she was mine, not because of a contract or a name, but because our souls had finally found their rhythm.

We collapsed together in the aftermath, the room smelling of rain and the musky scent of deep intimacy. I held her close, tracing the curve of her back as her breathing slowed, her head resting on my chest. I felt a sense of peace I hadn't known I was capable of.

Suddenly, the silence was sliced by her phone buzzing again. Unknown number.

I kissed the corner of her mouth. "Rest a bit. I'll take care of it."

Summer nodded drowsily, already drifting off. I swiped to answer the call, and immediately, Alexander's frantic voice came through the speaker.

"Summer, you finally picked up? Is this really necessary? Calling the police on me? Summer, you—"

I glanced at Summer. She was fast asleep. I carefully laid her down, but her hand instinctively caught mine. "Where are you going?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Go to sleep. I'm not going anywhere," I whispered.

"Who are you? Why are you with Summer?" Alexander’s voice turned sharp and angry. "Who the hell is this?"

I narrowed my eyes and ended the call without a word. He called back instantly, but I silenced the phone. Let him shout into the void.

When Summer stirred again a few minutes later, the phone rang once more. This time, she reached for it herself, her drowsiness clearing into sharp irritation.

"Alexander, are you insane?" she snapped. "What is wrong with you?" She caught my eye and stood her ground. "Enough. You're being ridiculous. I never called the police. And by the way, that was my husband who answered. It’s none of your business. Goodnight."

She tossed the phone aside, but it rang yet again. This time, her expression shifted from anger to confusion. "Oh, officer, hello," she said, her tone transforming. "I'm sorry. He's my sister's fiancé. If you need anything, you should contact her."

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching her. "Who was it?"

"The police," Summer replied, reaching up to touch my hair. "That man actually borrowed an officer's phone to call me. Can you believe it?" She turned back to the phone. "My husband and I need to rest now, officer. If that’s all?"

As she hung up, a satisfied smile played on my lips. She had claimed me as her husband twice in one night, with a certainty that left no room for doubt. Alexander was the past; I was her present and her future.