I Swapped His Fake Gift for a Real Life novel Chapter 90

I still didn’t die–though I’d aimed my head straight for the pavement.

That idiot Alexander, instead of fleeing after breaking free from his restraints, rushed forward and caught me.

I lived. His arms shattered.

Staring at his plaster–casted limbs now, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Benjamin lingered outside my hospital room for hours before finally entering. “Nathaniel said… he wants you to focus on

recovering.”

I knew he wouldn’t let me off so easily.

But it didn’t matter.

There were always other ways to die.

I’d never entangle myself with him again.

“Emily.” Alexander’s voice was raw, his eyes rimmed red, “is there really nothing left in this world worth staying for?”

For the briefest moment, something in me wavered.

Under Alexander’s relentless care, my body gradually healed.

After six months of rehabilitation, my hands could hold a pen again.

The following year, I entered the SKP competition–and won.

The trophy was heavy. My half–crippled hands trembled under its weight until Alexander steadied it for me.

Leaving the venue, I received a call from an unknown number.

Nathaniel’s assistant.

‘Mr. Hawthorne had his own limbs broken and tendons severed,” the voice trembled. “He’s lying in that alley where you

first met–the one you saved him in twice,”

A pause.

‘He asked… If he survives three days there would you consider forgiving him?”

Silence.

‘Miss Sinclair, he’s lost too much blood! He won’t make it without-

‘No.‘

I ended the call.

Chapter 23

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Turning. I found Alexander uncharacteristically flushed, fidgeting

“Emily, he blurted suddenly, ‘you’re still hopelessly clumsy. And… kind of broken. You shouldn’t be left unsupervised He

scuffed his shoe against the pavement. “So… wanna marry me?”

My heart stuttered.

When I didn’t respond, he quickly backpedaled. “Just a thought! Forget I-‘

‘Aren’t you afraid?” I whispered. “Of Nathaniel bankrupting you? Of him skinning you alive?”

Alexander’s eyes blazed. “Everyone dies. But a life without doing what matters? Without protecting who matters?” He

grinned, reckless and bright. “What’s the point of living long that way?”

I smiled. “Alright. I’ll marry you.”

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