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“No,” I shake my head. “And my terms still stand.”
He pauses in the process of taking another sip of the coffee.
“What?”
“I want to meet him. Just once. He doesn’t have to know who I really am.”
“That’s not happening,” he says, eyes flashing.
“Alexander.”
“No. You’re not his mother. You have no relation to him. The only thing you did was give birth to him but that doesn’t make you his mother. Do you understand?”
My fists clench. “Then we don’t have a deal.”
He gets to his feet angrily. “You know a part of me really hoped you weren’t as horrible a person as I thought. But you are. You’re using my son as a bargaining chip to fulfil your own wants. He’s not an object you can just pick and choose whenever you feel like it. He’s a child, a little boy, my little boy. You have no right to demand to meet him.”
My throat dries. I start to speak, to try to explain but he doesn’t wait to hear what I have to say. He walks away heading for the elevator. I get to my feet as well, hurrying after him and managing to get there just before the doors close. He pretends not to notice my presence.
“You think I’m a bitch,” I start. He doesn’t reply. “I am. I’m a terrible person for what I did to you. And what I did to Nathaniel-”
His eyes meet mine sharply. “Don’t fucking say his name. You have no right.”
I only just found out his name a couple of years ago. The Steele’s made sure there was no mention of him anywhere before that. I was going crazy trying to catch a glimpse of him, to know one thing about him. When he was five I even went to D.C to see him. But I didn’t make it very far.
He was exposed to the public not long ago. He started accompanying his father in functions and they didn’t seem intent on burying news articles about him anymore. Since then I’ve seen pictures, videos of him on his aunt’s Instagram. Every single one making my heart hurt. I’ve tried my best to be strong.
But those short glimpses haven’t been enough. I just want to see him, look into his eyes. Even if it’s just once. I know I don’t have a right to it. But I can’t help wanting it regardless.
Alexander’s looking at me now, green eyes filled with fury. I swallow softly, trying to give off some semblance of control.
“You have every right to be angry,” I start.
“Don’t patronize me, Katerina. This conversation is over.”
I take a step towards him and place my hand on his arm. The touch is searing, the first in almost a decade. “Please,” I say softly, uncaring how desperate I sound.
In one split second, he’s wrenching his arm away and shifting our positions so I’m pressed against the wall. My breath leaves me in a rush. I try to push back but he’s bigger and much stronger than me. I blink up into his eyes and swallow softly. His body presses into mine, his chest warm against my heaving breasts. The musky scent of his cologne invades my senses as he renders me unable to move.
I straighten my spine, making sure to look him in the eyes, despite how stunned I am by the turn of events.
“If you go anywhere near him, Katerina. I’ll end you.”
A chill runs through me at the words, at the brutality in them. He’s changed so much. But I also need to remember who I am.
“Calm down, Alexander. And let me go,” I order, raising my hand to push him away.
He captures my wrist in his hand and raises it up the wall, effectively rendering me immobile. My stomach start to churn. Out of nerves from the proximity. I swear I turn into the biggest idiot when he’s around. And I can’t believe he’s still able to affect me this much.
Just when I’m about to kick him in the balls or something, anything so he’ll back off. He releases me on his own, taking a step back, then another until his back is on the opposite side of the elevator doors. It dings at the exact moment as we arrive on the ground floor. The doors open but he doesn’t immediately exit.
“He’s in New York,” I say softly. “Isn’t he?”
His expression doesn’t change but he doesn’t reply which is enough confirmation.
“I don’t want to hurt him. The last thing I want to do is hurt him.”
Xander looks me up and down and scoffs.
