Dear ex-Wife please be mine again

Chapter 145

Alexander’s POV.

Heads turned, conversations stopped, and the soft music playing in the background seemed to fade.

I rose from my seat instinctively, my stomach twisting into knots. Sebastian, seated next to me, froze. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, his gaze darting to me, silently pleading for some kind of guidance. I knew he felt out of place….how could he not? This wasn’t supposed to happen, not like this.

“Mother,” I began, trying to keep my voice calm, “what are you doing here?”

She stopped at our table, her hands trembling with rage. “What am I doing here? I should be asking you that, Alexander! You’ve been hiding things from me, haven’t you?”

“Mother, please,” I said, holding my hands up, trying to de–escalate the situation.

But she wasn’t having any of it. Her eyes shifted to Sebastian, narrowing with contempt. “And this must be him.” Her voice was full of venom. “The bastard son of your father.”

Sebastian stiffened, his shoulders squaring as he tried to maintain composure. He didn’t speak, but the look on his face said it all…hurt, embarrassment, and a desperate need to disappear.

“Mother, stop,” I said firmly, stepping between them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t know?” she snapped, her voice rising even further. “I’ve had to piece it all together because my own son couldn’t tell me the truth! You’ve been protecting him…this shame to our family…while keeping me in the dark!”

I clenched my jaw, my patience wearing thin. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d react like this. You’re proving me right.” She let out a bitter laugh. “React like this? How else am I supposed to react, Alexander? My husband cheated on me, fathered this… this mistake“—she gestured harshly toward Sebastian-“and you thought it was fine to keep it hidden from me?”

“Enough!” I barked, my voice sharper than I intended. “Sebastian is not a mistake. He’s my brother, and you will not talk about him like that.”

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably behind me, his face pale. He was completely silent, clearly unsure how to handle the scene unfolding before him.

Madam Margret grabbed a glass of wine from a nearby table, her hand trembling. “This bastard doesn’t belong here. He’s a stain on our name!”

Before I could react, she raised the glass, her intention clear. “You have no place here, you-”

I stepped forward, shielding Sebastian just as she flung the wine in his direction. The liquid splashed across my chest, soaking my suit. Gasps rippled through the room as diners watched the spectacle unfold.

“Alexander!” she shrieked, her face a mask of disbelief.

I wiped the wine from my face, glaring at her. “If you want to throw wine, throw it at me. But you will not touch him. Not now, not ever.”

Her lips trembled, her eyes darting between me and Sebastian. Before she could launch into another tirade, Christiana appeared, her face a mixture of shock and concern.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, her voice steady despite the tension.

Madam Margret turned her anger on her instantly. “And you!” she spat, pointing a finger at Christiana. “You knew, didn’t

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you? You knew about this bastard and said nothing! Leading my son on while protecting that… that son of a…”

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“Stop it!” Christiana’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade. She stepped forward, her posture straight, her chin high. “Your have no right to come here and hurl insults at people who have done nothing to you.”

Madam Margret looked taken aback, but Christiana didn’t stop. Sebastian is not at fault for what happened between your husband and some other woman. He is a good man, and he doesn’t deserve your hate. And Alexander? He’s your son. He was protecting his brother because he knew how unfairly you’d reac That’s on you, not him.”

Christiana’s words were calm but laced with steel, her eyes firm as she stared Madam Margret down.

“This is none of your business,” Madam Margret hissed, her voice losing some of its edge.

“Oh, but it is,” Christiana countered. “You’re attacking my family. I won’t stand by and let you do that.”

Sebastian finally found his voice, stepping forward hesitantly. “Madam, I…”

“No,” Christiana said, cutting him off gently. She looked at him with a kind smile. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t owe her an explanation.”

Sebastian’s lips parted, but he nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude.

I couldn’t help but smile at Christiana, my chest swelling with pride and love. She had a way of standing her ground, of making you believe that everything was going to be okay, even in the midst of chaos.

Madam Margret’s face was red, her fury simmering just beneath the surface. She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it. Instead, she spun on her heel and stormed out, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

The room remained silent for a moment, the tension hanging thick in the air. Then, Christiana turned to Sebastian and smiled warmly. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

I exhaled deeply, my shoulders relaxing as I looked at Christiana. “You handled that better than I ever could have.”

She smiled at me, brushing her fingers against my arm. “That’s what I’m here for.”

And just like that, the chaos began to fade, replaced by the quiet strength that Christiana always seemed to bring with her.

The air still felt heavy as the murmur of conversations returned around the restaurant. Eyes lingered on us, no doubt drawn by the dramatic exit of Madam Margret Alistair. I glanced at Sebastian, who stood awkwardly beside me, his hands shoved into his pockets, looking as though he wanted to melt into the floor.

“Sebastian,” I said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Ignore her. She’s angry, but it’s misplaced. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

He nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I know,” he muttered. “It’s just… I didn’t expect this.”

“None of us did,” Christiana said, her voice soft and soothing as she stepped closer to him. “But you handled it well. Better than most people would.”

Sebastian gave a small, grateful smile, though his eyes still held a shadow of discomfort. “Thanks,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I let out a breath, my fingers tightening slightly on his shoulder. “Let’s sit back down. We’ve had enough theatrics for one evening.”

We returned to our table, the three of us easing into our seats. My suit was still damp from the wine Madam Margret had thrown, but I hardly cared. I flagged down a waiter and asked for a napkin, wiping myself off as best as I could.

Christiana leaned over, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “I in the line of fire.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Gallant or soaked?”

“Both,” she replied with a laugh, reaching over to straighten my me that everything would be fine.

Christiana had a

way of lightening the mood, drawing Sebastian into the discus

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Christiana leaned over, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “I have to admit, you looked rather gallant back there, standing in the line of fire.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Gallant or soaked?”

“Both,” she replied with a laugh, reaching over to straighten my tie. Her touch was light, reassuring, as if silently reminding me that everything would be fine.

Christiana had a

way of lightening the mood, drawing Sebastian into the discussion with her warmth and charm.