Alpha Billionaire Series

CHARLES

“So that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I am forever grateful for your votes! Thank you!” The roar of the crowd as I accepted the nomination for the conservative party was tremendous. The entire stadium was filled with people cheering me on. Whether it was because they fully supported me as a candidate or just the ticket I ran on, I didn't care. Peter had been right. Willow had won us the primaries and all she had to do was show up and be herself.

I had my arm locked around her waist, a huge grin on my face. She seemed happy enough to wave at the constituents with me as the applause continued. The party had booked a local community band to play, and they offered a rendition of a popular fight song as I guided Willow down the steps of the platform. People greeted us as we walked, Peter and Nina bringing up the rear.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“That was intense,” she muttered. I looked down at her plastic smile but saw right through it. She looked tired and ready to eat, but her hand continued to shake each hand extended toward her. We still had the meet and greet with select voters and media.

“You want to stop off at the greenroom and get a snack? You look famished.” We didn’t need her passing out from low blood sugar, though that wasn't the only reason I offered the break. Over the past few months, I'd grown more comfortable with Willow and I realized the more I cared about her as a person, the more heart she put into this act. Maybe I'd never win her over, but given the s*x we'd had last week, I thought I might have been making a dent in the mountain of emotional debt I racked up with her.

“Nah, I'm okay.” Her smile brightened and she shook another hand. “Thank you.” She rose up on her tiptoes robotically and pecked my cheek. I wasn’t surprised by the action because Peter had literally brainwashed us both into certain public displays of affection, but it felt different after that last sexual encounter—hollow.

“Are you sure?” I hugged her more tightly to myself when we stepped away from the ropes that separated us from th constituents. “Because I don’t mind. You look tired.”

Her smile tightened and she glanced at Peter. “I'm fine, Charles. I just want to do my job and get this over with so I can go home.”

I nodded, understanding perfectly how she felt. She wasn’t a pawn in anyone's scheme but her own, and despite our physical relationship heating up a little, I could see in her eyes that she still had a wall around her heart. So, I led he onward toward the small staging area where we were supposed to meet the press. Willow pulled away from me a bit. I tried not to let it bother me, but it did more than I cared to admit.

“Mr. Perish! Congratulations on taking the primary. Well done!” Victor Hughes, party leader and huge supporter, shoved his hand out to me. “And this must be your wife I keep hearing about.”

I grasped his hand firmly and shook it and he turned his attention on Willow. Her navy pantsuit did her justice, fittin; her curves well and highlighting her fair complexion. She had her hair swept up in a French twist, which left her elegant neck exposed. Victor leaned in, offering a kiss to each cheek, as Willow's eyes flicked my direction, casting ar uncomfortable glance at me.

We had briefed her on each person at this meet and greet, and she'd voiced her disdain for this man in particular. I didn’t know why. Peter had coached her to play nice, and from the looks of it, she was.

“How on earth did this guy manage to nail you down?” He held her at arm's length, hands on her elbows.

“What would you say if I told you I'm the one who captured him?” There was a playful sparkle in Willow's eye as she said it. She used to say that all the time when people asked what a beautiful woman like her was doing with a loser like me. I got that a lot in college. I was the nerd who always hit the books while my friends were out drinking and partying.

“Ah, a tricky one here. I bet you're a little vixen in bed.” Victor winked at me and that was my cue to remove my wife from his paws.

“That's for me to know and you never to find out.” I ushered her away from him and she sighed heavily.

“Sleazeball,” she muttered under her breath, and I couldn't have agreed more. The man was a magnet for scandals. He probably had a fixer on retainer.

“Alright, just a few hands left to shake, and we can go feed you.” I smiled at Willow, placing my hand in the small of her back.

The smile she gave me was genuine, like I'd read her mind. “Perfect, I'm starving.”

I glanced at the entrance to the staging area as Willow and I took our seats in a circle of couches. Three reporters hovered with microphones and their cameramen at the ready. A few people who'd won a contest to “meet the next US Senator” sat waiting for the cameras to begin rolling. I would have just as soon skipped this part, but Peter made both Willow and I promise we'd humor the press.

“Mr. Perish, I'm Leslie Newman, channel six news.” She thrust out her hand and the cameras started rolling. Flash photography outdoors on a sunny day wasn’t necessary, but I hid the sarcastic eye roll.

“Ms. Newman, nice to meet you.” I greeted her with a handshake, and she smiled.

“The constituents have a few questions for you, and then we'll let you go.” She backed away and turned to a younger woman, maybe just voting age, and gestured. “You're up, Kenzi."

The younger woman grinned and leaned forward in her seat. “Mr. Perish, I'm so happy to meet you. As a young mother I want to thank you for the way you will handle school lunches. Kids today need to be fed a nutritious meal at school, not vending machine garbage.”

“Your question, Ms...2" I cocked my head at her, remaining patient.

“Payne, McKenzie Payne.” She smiled stupidly as if I even cared about her name, and then continued. “My question is actually for your wife. Mrs. Perish, do you intend to have children and how do you feel about your husband's policies in the future? Would you support them for your children and the kids of the state of Maryland?”

Willow blushed, glancing at me. There was an awkward silence before she replied with a very calculated response, fo which neither Peter nor I had prepared her.

“Sure, Kenzi. Such a great name, by the way. I think Charles is right on the money with his education stance, and I'd be delighted if my children attended any school in his influence.”

My chest tightened as I listened to Willow speak about having children. There was a lightness about her speech, and a seriousness all the same. She really did want kids; I could tell by the look in her eye. Which only needled away at the suspicion Peter had planted in my mind that she had potentially aborted my baby years ago.

It didn't matter what question was asked after that; every single one of them was an irritant. I became irrationally irritable and moody. Willow and Peter both tried to snap me out of it, but I knew the only way to dislodge the thorn in my saddle was to just talk to her about it. But I wouldn't.

I couldn't. I didn’t want to know the answer.

So, I took over the act of being the robot, running a code that forced my physical body to perform in the appropriate method until we returned home and I crashed. This time, in my own bed. I wasn't sleeping on the couch ever again. And when Willow came to bed, she didn’t say a word. She slept under the covers, and I slept over the covers.