Page 47 of X: Command Me through Alexander’s Eyes

Chapter Seventeen

The entire family is here. Why do bastards always get so much attention? I’m not naive enough to believe the people gathered here came out of love. My father is a hard man to love and an impossible man to like. I suspect the only reason I tolerate him is our shared blood. Duty binds us together. If it wasn’t for our birthrights, tragedy would have torn us apart a long time ago. He’s not responsible for the loss of my mother or sister. I’m to blame for Sarah’s death. But I’ll never forgive him for how he treated me after. And while no one killed my mother, that’s never stopped him from treating my brother like the unwanted third wheel.

We look nothing alike, except our eyes, I’m told. He’s British in every sense of the word. His light hair, once sandy blond, is now fading to grey. Lines crease his face. He stands like he owns the place, a trait that came with his crown. Maybe that’s why we’ve never gotten along. No one owns me. He knows it. That’s a trait that came with my mother’s Greek blood. It’s why the man will probably outlive me out of sheer determination to keep the throne from falling into my hands.

He says I’m too volatile to be King. He’s right.

Edward is dutiful by his side, and guilt washes over me. I can only imagine how many insults he already endured. I thought when I came back to England I might find their relationship had changed, but it’s worse than ever. Edward might keep his romance a secret, but he can’t hide anything from our father. No one can. It’s a perk of having a secret service at your disposal. My brother raises an eyebrow, his face written with warning as though I’m not already expecting whatever hell is about to be unleashed. “Remember, this is about me, Clara,” I whisper.

She nods, but she’s too busy gawking at the others to mean it. I can’t blame her, but I need to get through to her. This is going to be ugly, and most of the nastiness will be directed at her. It’s my family’s favorite strategy: bully the new blood until they break—or prove as indestructible as they are. I take her chin in the palm of my hand, turning her eyes toward mine. I’ve resolved that Clara is part of my life. Everyone else will have to fall in line with this reality—especially her.

Her eyes flutter wider, framed by dark lashes, and she stares through me like she can see everything I try to hide. I feel something inside me slam closed, unwilling to feel so vulnerable.

I can’t. Not here. Not now.

Her gaze dances over me, momentarily puzzled, before the slightest smile appears on her lips as if she’d seen that thought, too. It’s as though she witnessed my defenses raising. Is the smile congratulatory? Is she pleased to have figured me out? No. It’s something else. For a moment, I’m reminded of my mother, and that’s when I understand what the smile means: she’s reassuring me. One simple smile to let me know that she’s here with me. For a second, I let myself believe it will be okay, and I can’t help but lean to kiss her softly. She’s everything I need without even trying. “Good girl.”

“Alexander,” my father calls, stealing the moment like he always does. “You’ve kept us waiting long enough.”

“I’m sorry, father,” I force the apology out. I’ll play nice and keep my claws retracted until we’re alone. Brushing a hand down Clara’s arm, I try to give her an ounce of the reassurance she just gave me. “I lost track of my date.”

“How careless.” He beckons me away from the others. “May I speak with you?”

I shoot Edward a look, and he tips his head so slightly no one will notice. He’s on Clara duty for the moment. I can trust him with her. The others? Not so much. They’re already closing in from all over the room, drawn like sharks to blood in the water.

My father waits until we’re out of earshot before he begins. “I don’t remember telling you to bring a date.”

“I don’t remember caring,” I say, adjusting a cufflink that loosened during the ride to the party. My mind flashes to Clara’s bare skin, the feeling of her warm sex clamping over my cock. Suddenly, I’m looking for a fight. It will be an excuse to leave—to take Clara back to her flat and fuck her until all memory of tonight is gone.

“You have a reputation to consider,” he hisses, his eyes darting out over the pawns he’s gathered for this sham of a celebration.

“Clara is an Oxford graduate whose family is worth several millions and who works in philanthropy. Might your standards be a tad high?” I ask.

“Don’t pretend she’s not a slut. I saw those texts. It doesn’t matter what her file says. Any woman who allows that isn’t suitable,” he says, his voice rough with rage. “She’s not the kind of woman you marry, Alexander.”

“That would be a shame, wouldn’t it? I wouldn’t want to disappoint the family,” I storm.

“Your proclivities are an embarrassment,” he lowers his voice again. This is one subject he’s desperate to keep quiet. It’s why he sent me away. “If you need a woman to fulfill your perverse fantasies, so be it. Pay someone. Someone discreet so that I don’t have to hear about it. But don’t walk them through the front door.”

“Is that how you keep Pepper quiet?” I’ve been saving this slight for the right moment—waiting to use it.

“I have no idea what you’re on about.” His eyes dart away, his body going rigid. I’ve cornered him.

“I’m talking about the fact that you’re shagging your daughter’s best friend.” I won’t allow him to feign ignorance. It’s time for a reckoning.

“I have no idea where you heard this—”

“It’s more about who confirmed it,” I stop him. “I think you might want to aim your discretion lecture toward your bitchy bedfellow.”

“You think you’re so clever with your poisonous barbs and little games, son, but you have no idea how unprepared you are for your role in this family,” he warns me. “That girl will only be a distraction. It’s time for you to get serious about your duty to your country.”

“To this country or to you?” I spit back.

“I am the King. I am the country.”

“You’re a mascot for a dying breed. No one needs the monarchy.” I mean it. Every word. He can’t deny we’re little more than ceremonial puppets who serve for photo ops and charity functions.

“You have no idea how wrong you are,” he says, shaking his head. “No idea what this family is up against.”