Shackled To The Enemy King

Roxana pressed her lips together, holding the box tightly against her chest as though it were something alive, something that might slip away if her grip loosened even slightly.

"Did you really apply for the marriage license?" she asked, her voice quieter now, stripped of its earlier sharpness.

Alexander nodded. "I don’t trust your father anymore. He definitely will—"

"I get it," Roxana cut in gently.

She didn’t need him to finish. She knew her father far too well; she knew the kind of man he was when his authority was challenged, when his pride was wounded. He wasn’t someone who simply let things go. He erased them. Permanently, if necessary.

She moved to sit on the bed, pulling the shirt closed over herself, though her attention remained fixed on the ring in her hands. For a long moment, she said nothing.

"I’m putting your life in danger," she admitted softly.

Alexander reached for her hand, his fingers closing around hers, but even then, he could feel it, the way she refused to let go of the box.

He shook his head.

"It doesn’t matter," he said, steady and certain. "I’ve already decided I’m not letting you go. I’ll do whatever it takes to marry you."

Roxana looked up at him, searching his face—his eyes, his expression, every small detail that might betray hesitation.

There was none.

"You’re serious."

"I’ve already wasted ten years," he said quietly. And more than that, though he didn’t say it aloud.

In another life, he had lost her without even understanding what she meant to him. This time, he knew. And he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

"I love you, Roxana," he said, his voice soft but unwavering. "I don’t want to wait anymore."

Her throat tightened. "What changed?" she asked. "Why out of nowhere?"

Alexnader held her hand. "I never forgot you even for a second the past ten years."

Roxana sniffed, as tears slipped down.

"Me too... The past ten years..." she began, her gaze dropping briefly before returning to him. "I hated you. Or at least, I thought I did. But I couldn’t move on. You were always there... in my thoughts, in everything."

She let out a shaky breath.

"It was torturous."

Something in his expression softened further.

"I won’t hurt you again," he said. "Will you take this first step with me? For the rest of our lives?"

He reached for the box, but Roxana pulled it back immediately, holding it protectively against herself.

"Why are you trying to steal my ring?" she demanded.

Alexander blinked. "Your ring?"

And just like that... There was her answer.

A small smile touched his lips. "I was thinking of getting you another one. Something more—"

"What’s wrong with this?" Roxana cut in, clutching it tighter. "This is perfect."

"It’s small, and—"

"I love it," she said firmly. "You worked for this, didn’t you? Every cent."

He hesitated. Then nodded.

That was all she needed. Her eyes filled, her voice softening as she held the box close.

"This is my ring. This is enough."

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she didn’t look away.

"And yes," she whispered, her voice trembling but certain, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

For a moment, Alexander didn’t move.

Then he pulled her into him, his arms tightening around her as if anchoring her there, as if this was something he refused to ever lose again.

"It’s my honor," he said quietly.

Roxana buried her face against his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric as though she needed to feel something solid beneath her.

"My father will do everything to destroy you," she murmured. "Do you still want me?"

Alexander drew back just enough to cup her face, lifting it so she had no choice but to meet his eyes.

"Oh, honey..." His thumb brushed lightly against her cheek. "You have no idea how much I’d enjoy beating your father at his own game."

There was something steady in his gaze—something unshaken.

Because he wasn’t just Alexander Preston, the composed attorney people saw.

There was far more behind that name.

"Then let’s get married in a courthouse first thing tomorrow," Roxana said, urgency slipping into her voice now. "Once it’s registered, even he won’t be able to undo it."

Alexander nodded slightly, though his expression softened. "That was my plan too. But, Roxana... you deserve more than that. A real wedding."

She shook her head without hesitation. "I want you. Everything else is secondary." Then, after a pause, quieter, "What about your family? Will they accept me? Won’t they be upset if we just... eloped?"

Alexander let out a small breath, almost amused. "Why would they be?"

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

"My father hinted the other day that he might have to walk me down the aisle himself," he added with a faint smile. "I think he’d be more than happy if I showed up with a bride."

Roxana let out a soft laugh at that, the tension easing just enough for something lighter to slip through. She leaned into him again, holding him tighter this time.

"I can’t believe this..." she whispered. "I can’t believe I’m actually going to marry you, Alex. I thought I lost you."

"There, there..." he murmured, his hand moving gently along her back. After a moment, he shifted slightly, glancing down at the box still in her hands. "Try the ring. Let’s see if it still fits."

Roxana nodded and slipped it onto her finger.

It settled, but not quite perfectly.

"A little loose," Alexander noted, frowning slightly. "Did you lose weight?"

He remembered how careful he had been back then, how much effort it had taken to get her size without her noticing. It wasn’t something he could have gotten wrong easily.

Roxana only smiled, her gaze softening.

"I did," she said lightly. "Because I missed you."

Alexander narrowed his eyes slightly, unconvinced, his hand lifting to her face. "Oh, really? Then why is your cheek still so full?" he teased, his thumb brushing against it. Then he leaned closer to her neck and kissed it. "And your neck..."

They teased, they laughed, they planned their future. Warmth filled that room.

-----

Catherine stepped out of Richard’s house without looking back, leaving Joanne behind as though that Chapter had already been sealed. The morning had passed in an uneasy quiet, through breakfast, through the drive back. Joanne hadn’t said a word, and that silence had lingered even after Catherine walked away.

Beside her, Maximilian watched her with quiet adoration, the kind that didn’t demand attention but was always there, steady and unwavering.

"I won’t let her hurt you," Catherine said, turning her head slightly to look at him.

"I know," he replied simply.

He extended his hand, and she took it without hesitation, their fingers interlocking as naturally as breathing.

"We haven’t checked the distance lately," Catherine murmured after a moment.

They had been too close physically and emotionally, and neither of them dared to test what would happen if they stepped apart.

Maximilian hummed softly, glancing at her. "That’s not what’s bothering you."

He knew her well enough by now.

Joanne was no longer the real issue. Not after everything that had just happened. Whatever threat she posed had been shaken, if not completely dismantled.

Catherine’s gaze drifted away.

"Alexander isn’t answering," she said, her voice quieter, threaded with something uncertain. "I thought it would be better to tell him about Joanne... but..."

She hesitated, her brows drawing together faintly.

"He saw me yesterday," she continued. "He saw me having a panic attack. And... it’s strange he hasn’t called. Not even once."

Maximilian shrugged lightly. "He might be busy."

But Catherine didn’t look convinced.

"What if he’s in danger?" she asked, the concern slipping through before she could stop it.

Maximilian studied her then—really studied her.

She cared.

That much was clear.

But beneath that concern, buried deeper, there was something else. Something quieter. A hesitation that hadn’t fully disappeared.

A wariness.

It lingered like a shadow she hadn’t entirely let go of.

His grip on her hand tightened, just slightly.

That hesitation was still there, still lingering beneath everything she said.

And no matter how softly she smiled... he could feel the part of her that hadn’t chosen him completely.