Page 49 of Semper

He nodded, wrapping me in a plush robe that was waiting for me, its softness and warmth a perfect match for the temperature of the estate. Alexander led me to the lower level, where I had seen the theater room days ago, tucked away and so pristine that I had assumed it was just for decoration. But no, it wasn’t. He guided me to the oversized, ridiculously plush sofa and tucked me beneath a large throw blanket, placing a remote in my hand. "Pick something," he said softly.

I glanced at him as he moved to the far side of the room, already pulling out the shiny popcorn machine and preparing it for use.

The sound of kernels popping quickly followed, the aroma filling the room as he poured himself a drink while waiting forthe popcorn to finish. He wasn’t in his usual suit, but a simple pair of black sweatpants.

His tattoo, the shaded Devil etched across the right side of his chest and down his arm, stood out in stark contrast against flawless, deep bronze skin. His dark hair was as usual styled impeccably with little effort, the thick strands pushed back.

The sight of him like this—relaxed, almost domestic—was hard to look away from. I found myself staring before quickly turning my attention to the screen in front of me, pretending to search for a movie. My eyes widened when I spotted a curated list under my name that included TV shows.

Home Alone.

Edward Scissorhands.

The Lost Boys.

Wayward Pines.

He had nearly all of my favorites. I should have been bothered. I should have been shocked that he had gone to such lengths to know this about me, to weave himself further into every aspect of my life.

I couldn’t pretend to be. Not after the job and house revelation. Alexander had been brutally honest about having watched me, learning all he could before taking me. I was curious, though.

“How did you get this list?”

"I make it my business to know everything about you." His voice was calm, as if this level of intrusion into my life was perfectly normal. "Your preferences, your habits, your likes, your dislikes… it’s all part of understanding you. Anticipating your needs."

He turned, watching me intently, gauging my reaction. "Besides," he added with a hint of amusement, "you had a Netflix account among other subscriptions, didn't you? That made things easier."

I swallowed, realizing just how deep his reach had been, even before I stepped foot on the Isle. The invasion of privacy should have made me furious, but instead, I felt something far more dangerous—a dark, twisted sense of intimacy.

I didn’t think there were too many things Alexwouldn’tdo for me, within reason. Or secrets he wouldn’t find out.

“What else do you know about me?”

His smile widened, a gleam of satisfaction flickering in his eyes. "I know you hate the mornings, but you love the way the light comes through the curtains. I know your favorite color changes with your mood, and that you used to hum when you were nervous—until you taught yourself not to. I know the way you bite your lip when you’re trying to make a decision, and that you’ve always dreamed of seeing the world, even though you never thought you’d have the chance."

His gaze darkened, his voice lowering to a murmur. "I know you think about running... but you won’t. Not because you can’t—but because deep down, you don’t want to. You want this. Me. Even if you’re not ready to admit it to yourself."

I could feel my heart pounding as he spoke, every word cutting deeper into the truth I hadn’t yet fully confronted. Whatever expression I had on my face made him chuckle.

“There’s much more. Should I keep going?"

"There'smore?" I was half-joking.

"You’d be surprised at how much I've learned, Lola. Like how you used to stay up until dawn reading books because it was the only way you could escape. Or how you always feel a little out of place, like you don’t truly belong anywhere."

"I don’t know what to say to that.”

He smiled. "You don’t need to say anything. We both know how you feel."

He came back over with a bowl of popcorn, a bottle of water, and the drink for himself with a coaster, setting everything on the coffee table before settling onto the sofa.

His arm draped behind my shoulders, tucking me into his side—casual, but undeniably possessive. It was like every touch of his had a purpose, a reminder that no matter how relaxed the moment seemed, I was still very much under his control.

“Is this one, okay?” I asked, my tone light.

“I’m fine with whatever you want,” he replied softly.

I swallowed, quickly turning my attention to the remote. My fingers hovered over the titles he’d carefully selected for me, lingering for a moment before settling on Resident Evil.