Page 15

“ A nd then he stood up in the middle of the session and accused the entire committee of corruption,” Oliver said, shaking his head with a short laugh. “Quite the sight, really. Papers flying everywhere. You’d have enjoyed it.”

Alexander was listening to his friend go on about some new gossip. Over the years that Alexander had known him, he had grown used to him rambling whenever he got the chance .

“I disagree,” Alexander replied. “I would much rather be uninvolved with such frivolous drama.”

It was a busy evening at the club, with guests walking in nearly every few minutes.The two friends had decided to meet there.

“That’s politics,” Oliver replied dryly. “A great performance with very little substance.”

Alexander leaned back in his chair, scanning the room out of habit. A handful of regulars lingered by the far table, playing cards. Another group sat by the bar. Everything was as it should be.

Well, almost.

“I assume you’ve heard about Lord Burk?” Oliver asked after a pause.

Alexander’s jaw tensed at the mention. “Yes,” he said flatly.

The Viscount had become a recurring problem in the past year. He owed Alexander a considerable sum and had made no effort to repay it. Worse still, he’d begun frequenting the club like it was his own, mouthing off to staff, and pretending his debts didn’t exist. A shameless man.

Alexander had tolerated his presence for longer than he should have. But tolerance had its limits.

“He tried to get in again tonight,” Oliver added, lifting his glass. “Said he was here to speak with you directly.”

“He knows better than that,” Alexander scoffed.

“I assume he was turned away?” Oliver probed further.

“Lewis handled it,” Alexander said, not elaborating further . When Lewis handled something, it stayed handled.

“That’ll leave a bruise,” Oliver gave a low whistle.

“He wasn’t touched,” Alexander said, though there was little sympathy in his tone. “Just reminded where the door was.”

“You’re being too patient with him, you know.”

“I’m not patient,” Alexander said. “I’m being as careful as I ought to be.”

“Of course, if you say so,” Oliver smirked. “Why do you keep him out instead of calling for the constables?”

“Because the Viscount wants a public fight. That’s how men like him survive. He owes more than just money,” Alexander looked down at the rim of his glass. “You drag a man like that to court, and suddenly everyone’s dirty laundry is out in the open, including people I don’t care to protect.”

“So you freeze him out,” Oliver nodded slowly.

“I make him irrelevant,” Alexander corrected. “That hurts him more.”

“Ah,” Oliver said, mulling over the words. “And what happens when that is no longer enough?”

“Then I stop playing games.”

Oliver didn’t press further.

Across the room, Lewis stepped through the side entrance briefly and gave a short nod in Alexander’s direction. Confirmation received. Alexander returned the nod, then leaned back in his chair again.

“Now,” he said, letting the tension roll off his shoulders, “I need to hit something.”

“ Is that an invitation or a warning?” Oliver arched a brow.

Alexander downed the last of his drink and set the glass aside. “Come on. You’ve been running your mouth all evening. Time you put it to use in the ring.”

“You always get too worked up whenever politics comes up,” Oliver chuckled, standing.

“I get worked up when entitled men think they can talk circles around me and walk away owing nothing.” Alexander rolled his sleeves as he walked toward the back hallway. “The Viscount is not the first man to mistake my silence for softness.”

They passed the familiar halls of the club, until they reached the heavy door at the far end.

Alexander pushed it open, revealing the training room.

In the center stood the boxing ring. It was his father’s once.

Now it was his. The difference was felt in how it was used, no longer for show or ego, but for control.

“Still not sure how you manage to run a proper gentleman’s establishment with a boxing ring in the back,” Oliver said, stretching his arms.

“You should not underestimate my abilities,” Alexander replied. “Regarding business or otherwise.”

“Oh, I would not dare to do such a thing,” Oliver laughed.

Alexander took off his coat, setting it to the side in anticipation of their sparring session. He loved moments like this, for it gave the clarity he needed in his mind.

“Get in.”

“You never ever ask nicely,” Oliver rolled his eyes.

Alexander just raised a brow. Moments later, they were both in the ring, gloves laced, circling each other with light steps. It started slow.

“So,” Oliver said between jabs, “how’s married life?”

Alexander didn’t answer at first. He ducked a punch and responded with a clean strike to Oliver’s shoulder.

“I’ll take that as complicated,” Oliver grunted.

“My marriage is just fine,” Alexander replied, not giving Oliver a chance to draw conclusions on his own.

“The fact that you even chose to marry,” Oliver grinned, “ still surprises me.”

“You and half of London.”

“She must be beautiful for you to fold like this,” Oliver said, teasing. “But how long do you think you can keep her hidden away?”

Alexander landed a soft punch just below Oliver’s ribs. “She’s not hidden. She’s being kept safe.”

“Ah,” Oliver said, retreating a step. “Overprotective of her already.”

Alexander didn’t deny it.

“You really think someone’s after her?” Oliver threw a lazy jab, which Alexander caught with ease.

“I’d be na?ve to think otherwise.”

“Always with the worst-case scenario,” Oliver lowered his arms, frowning.

“You think the Viscount is the only one who wants to see me fall?” Alexander asked, “There are men I’ve crossed, outsmarted, turned down, embarrassed. They don’t let things go.”

“You’ve made enemies. That’s not news.”

“I’ve made enemies who don’t play by society’s rules,” Alexander corrected.

Oliver’s grin faded.

“You don’t keep a place like this running as a duke unless you know how to make people fear you,” Alexander continued. “And you already know I’ve had to do that.”

Silence fell between them for a moment.

“Does the new Duchess know this about you?”

“She knows enough,” Alexander replied.

“Does she know about your father?”

The question caught Alexander off guard for a moment, and he froze. It was an unwelcome reminder, for Alexander did not like to think about the late duke.

“Not really.”

The man had been everything that Alexander did not wish to become. He was conniving, and unkind. Using people came naturally to him, and loyalty was not a word that meant anything to do.

Noticing the scowl on his friends’ face, Oliver continued.

“You know, for all your hatred for the man,” Oliver leaned back against the ropes, “You kept his club.”

“I didn’t keep it for him,” Alexander said immediately. “I kept it because someone had to clean up the mess. And because when he was gone, I needed a place that was mine.”

Oliver was quiet.

“You’re not him,” he answered finally.

“No, I am not,” Alexander asserted and then in a quieter voice, “But every day I have to remind myself.”

As much as he hated it, it was his father’s blood that ran in his veins. He glanced down, undoing the wrap on his wrist.

“I have a daughter who doesn’t trust easily. A wife who barely knows what she’s signed up for,” Alexander said, grimacing. “I do not think I can let my guard down, even for a moment.”

“You believe you have more to lose now that you have Penelope involved?”

Alexander looked up at that. Something about the weight in his eyes confirmed it.

“Exactly.”

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” Oliver shook his head. “ Most men like you would’ve sent their wife and child to the country by now.”

“I’m not most men,” Alexander reminded him.

“No,” Oliver said, lowering himself onto the bench just outside the ropes. “But you do have a weakness now. And everyone knows it.”

“I’ve always had weaknesses,” Alexander replied coolly. “I’ve just never given anyone the chance to use them. I keep my daughter protected, and I shall do the same for my wife.”

“Even now?” Oliver raised a brow.

“Especially now.”

“Odette listens to you because she is very young,” Oliver remarked. “But how do you plan on taming your wife?”

Alexander did not have an immediate answer to that. He let the silence hang for a moment.

“My father had weaknesses, too. But the difference is, he flaunted his.”

“You mean the drinking,” Oliver nodded slowly. “And the gambling.”

“And the debts, the women, and the pathetic need for admiration from men who hated him,” Alexander continued , “He sold respect for the illusion of power. And when that ran out, he begged for scraps.”

“I remember,” Oliver said quietly.

“I watched him lose everything,” Alexander went on. “ And even back then, I swore I’d never be like that. Not even close.”

“You’re not. But you do realize that keeping people close is not what made your father weak.”

“No,” Alexander agreed. “But needing them to survive did.”

He threw his towel to the ground, and continued .

“There is a difference between my conduct and his. I keep my people close and I protect them. But I don’t make them my crutch. Penelope and Odette aren’t weaknesses unless I start using them to excuse my own failures. And I won’t.”

Oliver studied him. “So it’s all just proof you’re not him?”

Alexander didn’t flinch. “It’s how I prove it to myself. Every day, I don’t gamble and I don’t drink to forget. I will never lose control.”

Oliver cracked a wry smile. “No, you just own half of London’s underground, and still manage to be a doting father.”

“Balance,” Alexander’s mouth curved slightly.

Oliver let out a laugh.

“Must be exhausting, walking that line.”

“Can’t say I can complain,” Alexander said. “It keeps me sharp.” He glanced at the wall clock, then reached for his coat. “And for now, it keeps them safe.”

“Just make sure you let them in,” Oliver said as they started toward the back hallway. “It’s not just about protecting them. But maybe they can protect you from yourself.”

Alexander didn’t reply. He had enough on his mind to mull over Oliver’s opinions.