After My Husband Made Me Seduce His Rival

I spent the night scouring through every piece of information I could find about Alexander Blackwood. My fingers trembled as I typed his name into search engines, business registries, and social media platforms. Each photo I found sent a jolt through my system—the same storm-gray eyes that had haunted my dreams for fifteen years. The same small scar above his left eyebrow from when he'd fallen during a particularly intense chess match at boarding school.

After five hours of research and three cups of strong black coffee, I confirmed his penthouse address at the top of a sleek tower overlooking Central Park. The information had come from an old private investigator's report I'd found buried in Daniel's desk—apparently, he'd been researching Alexander for months before approaching me with his proposition. The irony wasn't lost on me. Daniel had unknowingly handed me the key to my freedom, to my past, to the boy who had promised me forever under a sky full of stars.

I booked a discreet black town car for the following afternoon, giving myself just enough time to choose my outfit carefully. Not too provocative—that would be playing into Daniel's expectations. Instead, I selected a simple emerald silk dress that brought out flecks of gold in my eyes. Alexander had always said they reminded him of sunlight through autumn leaves.

The ride to his building passed in a blur of anxiety and anticipation. My heart pounded against my ribs so violently I was certain the driver could hear it through the partition. When the elevator doors finally opened to the penthouse floor, I took a deep breath and walked the long hallway to his door, each step echoing with fifteen years of separation.

I raised my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could make contact, the door swung open.

And there he was.

Taller than I remembered, broader through the shoulders, with subtle threads of silver at his temples that only enhanced his striking features. But those eyes—those I would have recognized anywhere. They widened slightly at the sight of me, his composed expression faltering for just a moment.

"Sophia," he said, my name on his lips sending electricity down my spine.

We stood frozen in the doorway, neither of us moving, as if a single breath might shatter the moment. Fifteen years of unspoken words hung in the air between us.

"You knew I was coming," I finally managed, noting the lack of surprise beneath his shock.

"I have cameras in the elevator," he replied, his voice deeper than I remembered. "Security protocol."

He stepped back, gesturing for me to enter. "Please, come in."

I moved past him into a minimalist living room with floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the Manhattan skyline. The space was immaculate, cold even, with sleek furniture and abstract art. Nothing like the warm, chaotic spaces we'd created as children.

"Daniel sent you," he said. Not a question.

"Yes." I turned to face him. "Though I suspect you already knew that too."

Something flickered across his face—a hardness I didn't recognize from the boy I'd known. "I've had you watched for years, Sophia. For your protection. I couldn't risk direct contact, but I never stopped—" He cut himself off, jaw tightening. "There were reasons I had to disappear. Dangerous ones."

"Fifteen years without a word," I whispered, the old wound throbbing beneath my carefully constructed composure. "I thought you'd abandoned me."

"Never." The single word carried such fierce conviction that I nearly staggered. "I left to protect you. My family's enemies would have used you to get to me. They nearly did once before."

"And now?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

Alexander moved toward the window, his reflection overlapping with the glittering city below. "Now I have the power to protect what's mine." He turned back to me, his gaze intense. "I'd like to offer you dinner, Sophia. Here, privately. To discuss Daniel's proposition—" his lip curled slightly at the name, "—and perhaps to remember what it feels like to be in the same room again."

His words hung in the air between us, an invitation that was so much more than a meal. It was a chance to reclaim fifteen years of lost time, to understand why the boy who had promised me forever had vanished without a trace.

"Yes," I said, my pulse a mixture of fear and joy. "I think we have a lot to talk about."

He nodded once, tension visibly easing from his shoulders. What Daniel had intended as a business transaction, a final humiliation in our farce of a marriage, was transforming into something neither he nor I could have predicted—the resurrection of a promise made under starlight fifteen years ago.