Married To The Billionaire Alpha King Chapter 15 - just my wife

15

~Darlon’s POV

I studied her face, trying to read what she wasn’t saying, but she quickly looked away again.

Then she exhaled quietly. "I’m not feeling all that great. I think I’ll head back to the mansion."

I wanted to stop her. To ask her to stay. To tell her that she had no idea how much I wanted her there. But I didn’t.

I nodded slowly. "Alright. I’ll have the maids check on you."

She turned and began walking back, her hair swaying gently in the breeze. I stood there for a long ti, watching until she disappeared into the distance.

Then I looked down at my cara. The pictures were still there, her smile, her laugh, her peace.

I scrolled through them slowly, one by one, until I stopped at the last one.

She had been looking at the ocean in that photo, her eyes full of light, her lips curved softly. She didn’t even know I’d taken it.

I sighed and muttered under my breath, "You have no idea how much I love you, Elara."

I strolled back to the mansion. I paced around the living room, trying to focus on anything else, literally anything, but her face kept flashing in my head. The way she looked when she turned and saw earlier by the ocean... that stiffness in her shoulders, that quick drop in her smile. It burned in my mind like a damn mark I couldn’t shake off.

I had tried to respect her space, to give her ti, but it felt like the more I did, the further she drifted away from . And I hated it. I hated how quiet the house felt without her voice, how empty the air seed when she wasn’t near.

I sighed and picked up my phone, dialing David again.

"Yeah, Alpha?" his voice ca through, half curious, half scared, because I rarely called twice in one day unless sothing big was up.

"When will the clothes and the bags and all those things get here?" I asked, my tone low but impatient. I could hear him tapping on his keyboard in the background.

"Uh, the supplier said they’ll deliver everything in the next one hour, Alpha. The brands are top-notch, the kind you ntioned...."

"Good," I cut in, running my fingers through my hair. "Make sure everything’s arranged properly before it’s sent to her room."

"Yes, Alpha. But... there’s one more thing."

I sighed. "What is it now, David?"

He hesitated for a second. "It’s about the dia thing. You said you’d ask your wife before I put out any official statent about the marriage. Did you talk to her yet?"

I leaned against the wall, the mory of her soft but firm voice hitting again: ’It’s better if we keep it a secret.’

"Yes," I said finally, my tone quieter now. "She said we should keep it private. No press, no pictures, nothing."

David was silent for a long mont, probably shocked out of his mind. Then he spoke, voice laced with disbelief. "Wait... you an, like, totally private? As in no announcent at all?"

"Yes," I replied sharply. "That’s what she wants, and I’ll respect that."

There was a pause, then a nervous chuckle. "Uh, wow. Never thought I’d live to see the day the great Alpha Darlon takes orders from soone."

"David," I warned, my tone dropping.

"Right, right. I’ll shut up," he said quickly. "Privacy it is then. No statent until further notice."

"Good." I ended the call before he could say another word.

For a mont, I stood there staring at the phone in my hand, wondering when the hell I had started letting soone get under my skin like this. But she wasn’t just anyone. She was my wife.

I tossed the phone on the table and exhaled slowly. I couldn’t keep sitting around, watching her avoid like I was so monster. I needed to fix this now.

So I made up my mind. If she wouldn’t co to , then I’d bring the mont to her. I’d take back control of this honeymoon before it turned into a disaster.

I stepped out of the room and called one of the senior maids. She bowed the mont she saw . "Sire?"

"Go to my wife," I said, trying to sound calm but firm. "Tell her to get ready for an evening at the lounge. We’ll be watching the sunset together."

Her eyes widened slightly, probably shocked that I was planning sothing that actually sounded... romantic.

"Yes, Sire. Should I prepare refreshnts too?"

"Yes," I said imdiately. "Sothing light. Small chops, fruit, maybe a few drinks. Nothing heavy."

"Of course, Sire. It will be done."

"Good."

As she hurried off, I stood there for a mont, imagining Elara’s reaction when she heard the ssage. She’d probably be nervous again, or maybe even think I was forcing her into sothing. I didn’t want that. I just wanted her to see that I wasn’t the monster everyone said I was. I wanted her to enjoy the monts.

I wanted her to see .

I wanted her to smile again, the way she did by the ocean before she realized I was there.

I exhaled deeply and looked toward the window. The evening light had begun to soften into gold, and for the first ti that day, a small smile tugged at my lips.

"Alright," I muttered under my breath. "Let’s make this evening count."

Then I turned, heading toward my wardrobe to pick sothing simple yet decent. Not too intimidating. Not too Alpha. Just... .

For her.

I stood in front of my open wardrobe for what felt like forever, just staring at the rows of clothes that suddenly looked like they belonged to soone else.

Dozens of suits, black, navy, charcoal. Crisp shirts lined up like soldiers. Every one of them scread Alpha. Power. Control. Distance.

I rubbed the back of my neck, muttering under my breath, "Why the hell is this so hard?"

Normally, I’d just pick the first thing that looked clean, button it up, and move on with my day. But tonight wasn’t like that. Tonight, I actually cared about how I looked.

I pulled out a black shirt, then imdiately tossed it aside. Too harsh. Then a white one, too plain. Then a grey one, it was too dull.

"Damn it," I said quietly, running a hand through my hair. "I’ve faced rogues and wars with more confidence than this."

I caught my reflection in the mirror, half-dressed, frowning like an idiot, and I couldn’t help but laugh a little under my breath. "Get it together, Darlon. You’re not going to war. It’s just your wife."

Just my wife.

But those words carried more weight than I wanted to admit.

I tried again. This ti, I pulled out a light blue shirt. It wasn’t sothing I wore often, too soft, too... approachable. But maybe that was the point. Maybe I needed her to see a different version of tonight.

I buttoned it slowly, watching how the fabric hugged my fra without feeling too stiff. Then I picked a pair of dark trousers, not the usual tailored ones I wore to etings, but sothing looser, more relaxed.

I turned to the mirror again. Not bad. Not intimidating. Still neat, but softer. I rolled the sleeves up to my elbows and nodded a little.

"Yeah," I murmured. "That’ll do."

But then I paused again, staring at myself. The thought hit , what if she doesn’t like it? What if she doesn’t even want to go?

I shook my head quickly, pushing that thought away before it could ruin everything.

"She’ll co," I said quietly to my reflection, trying to sound confident. "And this ti, I’ll make sure she actually enjoys it."

I grabbed my watch, slipped it on, and took one last look at myself.