Bianca's POV
I spun around so fast I almost tripped over my own heels.
Alexander.
He stood there in that perfect black suit, looking every bit the groom who just sealed his vows not even an hour ago. His grey eyes locked onto mine, and I felt my stomach drop straight through the floor.
"I…" My voice came out all wrong, squeaky and desperate. I cleared my throat. "Nothing. Just talking to myself."
He took a step closer. Then another. The hallway suddenly felt way too small, like the walls were closing in and stealing all the oxygen. I could smell his cologne, that same scent from the hotel room, and my body remembered things I desperately needed to forget.
"You're a terrible liar," he said quietly.
I laughed, but it sounded hollow even to my own ears. "Yeah, well, you're a terrible groom. Shouldn't you be out there with your wife? You know, the woman you just married?"
Something flickered across his face. Guilt maybe, or was it annoyance. Hard to tell.
"Chloe's busy with her aunt," he said. "Thought I'd check on you. You looked upset during the ceremony."
"I'm fine."
"Bianca."
The way he said my name made my chest tighten. Soft. Almost tender. Like we were something more than what we actually were, a mistake wrapped in expensive sheets and regret.
I crossed my arms, trying to put some kind of barrier between us. "Look, I don't know what you want from me, but this," I gestured between us, "this can't happen. You're married. To my sister. So whatever you think you saw on my face, you're wrong. I'm perfectly fine."
He stepped even closer, and I pressed my back against the wall. Nowhere left to go.
"That night," he began.
"Stop."
"We need to talk about it."
"No, we really don't." My voice cracked, and I hated myself for it. "It was a mistake. A really, really stupid mistake that we're both going to forget. You're going to go back to your wedding reception, smile at your beautiful wife, and pretend I don't exist. And I'm going to do the same thing."
"Is that what you want?"
The question hung in the air like smoke. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him that what I wanted didn't matter anymore. That ship had sailed the moment Chloe introduced him as her fiancé.
But the truth was, I didn't know what I wanted. My head was screaming one thing, but my body, my traitorous body, was whispering something completely different.
"What I want," I said slowly, "is to not ruin my sister's life. So yeah. That's exactly what I want."
He studied me for a long moment, and I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Then he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card.
"If you need anything," he said, holding it out, "call me."
I stared at the card like it was a live grenade. "Are you serious right now? You just married Chloe, and you're giving me your number?"
"You're her sister. Family. If you need help with anything, legal documents, housing, whatever, I can make it happen."
"Oh." I felt stupid. Of course that's what he meant. What else would he mean. "Right. Family stuff."
I took the card, careful not to let our fingers touch. But they did anyway, just for a second, and that brief contact sent electricity shooting up my arm.
He noticed. I know he did, because his jaw tightened and his eyes darkened in that way that made my knees weak.
"Bianca," he said again, softer this time.
"Don't." I shook my head, fighting back the burning in my eyes. "Please don't make this harder than it already is."
For a moment, I thought he might argue. Might push. Might do something reckless that would destroy all three of us.
Instead, he nodded once and stepped back. The distance between us felt like a physical relief and a terrible loss all at once.
"Take care of yourself," he said.
Then he turned and walked away, back toward the music and laughter and his new wife.
I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor, the business card clutched in my shaking hand. I should throw it away. Tear it into a million pieces and flush it down the nearest toilet.
But I didn't.
I stared at his name printed in elegant black letters. Alexander Knight. CEO. A phone number. An email address.
"You're an idiot," I whispered to myself. "A complete and total idiot."
I don't know how long I sat there. Could've been five minutes, could've been twenty. Time felt weird and stretchy, like my brain couldn't quite process reality anymore.
Eventually, I heard footsteps. Different ones this time. Lighter. Faster.
Chloe rounded the corner, her face lit up with joy. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you."
I scrambled to my feet, shoving Alexander's card into my bra. Classy. Real classy, Bianca.
"Sorry," I said, plastering on a smile. "Just needed a breather. Crowds aren't really my thing."
She grabbed my hands, squeezing them tight. "I know this is overwhelming. But I'm so glad you're here. It means everything to me."
The guilt hit me like a freight train. She looked so happy, so beautiful, so completely unaware that her new husband and her newly found sister had a secret that could destroy her.
"I'm glad too," I lied.
Chloe pulled me into a hug, and I hugged her back, trying not to think about how I'd already betrayed her in the worst possible way.
"Come on," she said, linking her arm through mine. "Let's go dance. It's my wedding day, and I want to celebrate with my sister."
She led me back to the reception, and I followed because what else could I do. The music was loud, the champagne was flowing, and everyone was laughing and dancing like this was the happiest day in the world.
Maybe for them it was.
For me, it felt like I was watching my own slow motion car crash, unable to stop it, unable to look away.
Alexander was talking to some business associates near the bar. He glanced up as we entered, his eyes meeting mine for just a split second before he looked away.
That one look said everything we couldn't say out loud.
This wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
And somehow, I knew that the worst was yet to come.