Please Divorce Me, Alpha! {BL}
Chapter 129: Home Sweet Heavily Guarded Home
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"Uh...well, because there are simpler ways to fight over a title. He could undermine your authority, turn allies against you, or try to make you look pretty damn incompetent. None of those would be pleasant, but they’d make more sense than blowing up a ballroom full of innocent people and arranging for me to be kidnapped."
I thought about Blair, remembering how it felt to grow up as the one who was denied a certain life while she got it all.
I resented her for ages, and there were times I wished she would know what it felt like to be viewed as the family nuisance, but I never wanted her dead.
Well not that dead...but still.
"Besides," I continued, "if Dante just wants your position, what’s the point of killing that many people just to kill you? Why go through all that trouble to keep me alive? There’s got to be something deeper, or someone else involved who wants something from both of us."
Lorenzo fell silent, his thumb absently moving over my waist as he thought about what I said.
For once, he didn’t brush off my opinion or insist he understood his family better than I did.
Instead, he stared out the window, contemplating the possibilities, and I felt a small rush of pride for having contributed something meaningful to a discussion that wasn’t about pastries or historical landmarks.
"You may be right," he finally conceded. "We’ve been focused on Dante because the evidence points to him, but we don’t know if he’s acting alone or if someone’s using his resentment for their own gain."
"See? My history degree is finally useful to the mafia!"
Timothy looked up from his phone. "Your degree has always been helpful, Alex. We’ve learned a ton about European architecture against our will."
"That’s because you lot refuse to see educational opportunities."
Lorenzo’s chest moved beneath my cheek, and I lifted my head suspiciously. "Are you laughing at me?"
"No."
He kissed my forehead, and I settled back against him, feeling a bit lighter even though Dante still loomed over us.
The warmth under my skin hadn’t fully faded, and I became increasingly aware of Lorenzo’s scent as our flight stretched on.
Lorenzo seemed to notice when I got restless, asking if I needed water or wanted to shift positions, but he never pushed me to divulge anything I wasn’t ready to talk about.
His protectiveness was a bit much at times, but a part of me found comfort in knowing he was paying attention.
Once we reached the estate, it was clear why Lorenzo insisted we leave Paris.
The security was doubled, guards were positioned along the gates and within the corridors, and extra patrols roamed the grounds.
Even the staff was being checked more thoroughly, with several doors restricted and strangers questioned before entering certain areas.
The estate looked the same, but it felt different.
I had slowly started to enjoy the freedom I found there, discovering quiet spots to read and meeting people who made me feel like I belonged.
Now, the house felt tense and closed off, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the next threat.
As we entered, Lorenzo placed his hand over mine.
Later, while Lorenzo was at a security meeting, I was resting in my room when Leon came in with lunch.
He halted the moment he saw me, his gaze moving over the bandage on my arm and the bruising near my temple before his expression collapsed.
"Sir...!"
He set the tray down and hurried over, enveloping me in a hug so tight that I had to remind him about my recovering ribs.
"Leon, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but let’s keep my remaining skeleton intact!"
He loosened his grip immediately but didn’t fully let go.
"When we heard about the explosion, no one knew if you were alive because the guards weren’t saying anything to us!" he said, his eyes shining. "I was so worried!"
My heart tightened as I realized how terrifying my disappearance must have been for everyone back at the estate.
"I’m okay," I assured him. "A little bruised, slightly traumatized but who isn’t? But otherwise perfectly fine."
He laughed through his concern and began inspecting my visible injuries, asking if the doctors had checked everything properly.
After I reassured him, I decided to distract him by recounting how I fought back against the kidnappers and refused to leave the ballroom without helping those still trapped inside.
By the end, Leon was staring at me wide-eyed through his glasses. "You did all that?"
"Of course. They made the unfortunate mistake of thinking I was an easy target."
"Wow! You’re the toughest omega I’ve ever seen!"
I grinned, sitting a little straighter despite the ache in my side. "Humph, finally, someone appreciates my talents!"
His laughter filled the room, and then I remembered the souvenirs I had brought home.
I grabbed the little Eiffel Tower keychain I bought in Paris and placed it in his hand, then offered him one of the fruit-shaped pastries from Lorenzo’s excessive collection.
"I brought you something."
Leon’s eyes lit up as he examined the tiny tower. "You... bought this for me?"
"Of course! I couldn’t come back empty-handed. That would have been embarrassing."
He accepted the pastry with equal delight, looking at me with such genuine gratitude that I couldn’t help but smile, even through the weight that followed me home.
"Thanks, Alex."
He hugged me again, this time gently, avoiding my injuries.
"You know, sir. If I may be so bold..." he said quietly, "you’re my best friend here. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you."
For a moment, I was at a loss for words.
Best friend.
I’d never had one of those before.
I’d spent years feeling like the person people tolerated rather than someone they genuinely wanted around, so hearing Leon say that so effortlessly touched something within me that I didn’t realize was still seeking acknowledgment.
I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight.
"Thank you, Leon," I murmured, hoping he understood how much those words meant to me.
Unfortunately, our moment was interrupted by a guard knocking at the door, calling Leon back to his duties.
I tightened my grip on him.
"Nooo. Tell them you’re busy."
Leon chuckled softly. "I have to go, Sir. I promise I’ll come back later."
"Betrayal! I just got a best friend and the kitchen is already trying to steal him away!"
"I promise I’ll return."
He tucked the keychain into his pocket, gave me one last careful hug, and left with the empty tray.
Once the door was shut, I settled back against my pillows, staring out the window, listening to the distant footsteps moving through the guarded hallways.
Just a couple of days ago, I had been wandering through Paris, enjoying pastries and complaining about my bodyguards.
Now, I was back in a heavily fortified estate, waiting for an accelerated heat cycle without even knowing that I was, wondering if Lorenzo’s brother had tried to kill us, and realizing that I had found a place among people I never expected to trust.
I had wanted a divorce, a bit of freedom, and a quiet life without kidnappings or explosions, yet my husband had become more protective than ever, and the estate I was starting to see as home felt increasingly perilous.
Still, Leon had called me his best friend, and Lorenzo had spent an extravagant amount of money on desserts just because he noticed I was feeling down.
Maybe my life had turned out to be far more complicated than I ever intended, but as I lay back and closed my eyes, I found myself thinking about how I had ended up here, and why, despite everything that had happened, a part of me still felt like I had finally found where I belonged.
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