Bonds of the Alpha Billionaire (Maya and Alex)

My body felt like it was encased in ice. Every muscle screamed to move, to react, but I was rooted to the spot. My ears throbbed, a relentless drumbeat against the backdrop of the muffled sounds emanating from the room. A strangled gasp escaped my lips, barely audible even to myself.

"Amaya?"

The voice, sharp and sudden, ripped through my paralysis. I whipped my head around, heart leaping into my throat as my gaze collided with Ivan's. He stood a few feet away, surprise etched clear on his face. His presence, unexpected and real, threw me into further disarray.

My gaze darted back to the door, the source of the sounds that had sent my world into a spin of chaos. Back to him. My throat felt like sandpaper, the words I wanted to say lodged there, refusing to form "What are you doing here?" His voice broke the suffocating silence, a question hanging heavy in the air.

The sounds from the room seemed to amplify, a contrast to the unnatural quiet between us. A heat that had nothing to do with the hotel's temperature rose to my cheeks, burning under his gaze. Shame pressed down on me, a suffocating weight.

"1, uh," I stammered, "I thought you were..." The words wouldn't come, the image in my head too raw, too shocking to articulate.

He frowned, confusion deepening the lines etched on his forehead. Then, a flicker of understanding dawned in his eyes. "Oh," he breathed, the single word holding a universe of unspoken meaning

The dam inside me burst. Words tumbled out in a torrent, a jumbled mess of emotions and fractured explanations. "Natalia and I called a bunch of hotels," I blurted, the need to justify my presence fueling my frantic babbling. "She's really good at knowing her way around the city, so she figured you'd pick one of the fancy ones because, well, you are rich. And then the receptionist told me you were in room 202 after I practically begged for an hour, and I came here and..." I trailed off, my voice catching in my throat. "I thought you were the one in there."

Silence fell again, heavier this time, thick with unspoken questions and a tension that crackled between us. He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

"I'm in room 201," he finally said, his voice low. "She must have gotten the room number wrong." He let out a long sigh. Then, as if remembering something crucial, he added, "We are still married, Amaya. I would never do that to you."

His words, a declaration of loyalty meant to reassure, landed with a thud in the pit of my stomach. Shame morphed into a different kind of burning sensation, a prickling mix of anger and confusion.

I stared down at my feet, the plush carpet blurring into an indistinct mass. Another sigh, heavier this time, escaped his lips.

"Look," he began, his voice laced with a weariness that mirrored my own. "Let's go into my room and talk." He didn't wait for a response, turning on his heel and heading towards the elevator bank.

I stood there for a moment longer, a statue caught in the headlights of my own turmoil then with a defeated sigh, I picked up my pace and followed him, my head hanging low, the weight of the situation pressing down on me with every step.

and he closed the door before turning towards me, his gaze

1/3

Mon, 24

Chapter 109.

61%

filled the sudden silence, each sound echoing in the cavernous space of my guilt. He poured himself a generous amount of amber liquid,

asked, his

I watched him, the weariness etched on his face. He didn't speak, didn't look my way. He just kept drinking, each swallow a silent testament to the pain I'd

by the weight of my actions and the unspoken words hanging heavy in the

grasp. He didn't react, didn't flinch. It was as if

silence.

by an invisible force, I did something completely unexpected, I wrapped my

The silence stretched on, each passing second fueling the realization of the devastation I'd caused. My grip tightened, a silent plea for forgiveness, for understanding. Slowly, the tension

so sorry, Ivan," I whispered, the words thick with regret. "I... I just want

to move on.

to build a life with

frustration lacing my words. "I'm so tired of it, Ivan. So tired

a response at last. His arms came up hesitantly, wrapping around me in a loose embrace. The gesture,

his voice low and rough.

know," I choked out, "I know, and I'm so

hollow. I hated myself for the pain I'd caused

for a long moment, a tangled mess of emotions held together by the fragile thread of our embrace. Finally, I lifted

1," he replied, his voice heavy with unspoken

voice trailed off,