Chapter 4: But I was not satisfied with your... service

Serena followed quietly behind Alexander, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. The hallway was dimly lit, the overhead lights casting a warm, golden glow that reflected off the polished surfaces. Every inch of the 54 Club exuded luxury—gold-accented walls, velvet furnishings, and the faint scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air.

At the entrance to the main lounge, a biometric scanner beeped softly as Alexander swiped his black membership card. The staff at the door bowed deeply, their expressions neutral but their posture stiff with reverence.

Serena noted how effortlessly he commanded respect without uttering a single word. His presence alone carried authority—unshaken, unchallenged.

She lingered a step behind, observing him. He was dressed sharply in a tailored black suit, the crisp white of his shirt standing out against the dark fabric. His demeanor was as cold as ever, yet there was something effortlessly magnetic about him.

Alexander stopped abruptly, turning to face her. His sharp gaze locked onto hers, unreadable yet piercing. Serena met his stare with a composed expression, offering a polite smile.

"How much did Raphael pay you?" His voice was cold, clipped.

Serena blinked, momentarily thrown by the question.

“What?”

Alexander’s brows furrowed slightly, as though he found her response suspicious.

She had no idea what he was insinuating. Over the years, she had deliberately kept her distance from the Vanderbilt family’s affairs, making no effort to involve herself in Alexander’s world. If Raphael was connected to him, that was their business—not hers.

“My boss mentioned the order might be worth hundreds of thousands,” she said, her tone calm but puzzled.

Alexander’s expression darkened.

"You even have a boss?"

His disbelief was evident, and it made her stomach tighten in frustration.

Alexander had never cared to know anything about her. He had left the country right after their marriage and never once looked back. Yet now, he looked at her as though she was an anomaly, something outside his expectations.

She hesitated before responding, unsure why he was questioning her at all.

Meanwhile, Alexander’s thoughts flickered back to something Raphael had mentioned earlier. Supposedly, the 54 Club provided "special services" for elite clientele—a rumor Alexander had never cared to verify. But after last night, after waking up with Serena in his bed, her sudden presence here only reinforced the possibility.

He turned abruptly and strode deeper into the club, toward his private suite. Serena followed out of necessity, her confusion growing.

Then, without breaking stride, Alexander tossed another sharp remark over his shoulder.

“Raphael said you charge high fees and that your services always leave clients satisfied. Is that true?”

There was something biting in his tone, a cold amusement laced with accusation.

Serena, used to handling difficult clients, didn’t flinch.

Over the years, she had dealt with all types—wealthy men who thought money bought them control, businesswomen who expected the impossible, clients who demanded miracles from her designs.

“Mr. Vanderbilt, satisfaction is subjective,” she replied smoothly. “It depends on what each client values.”

Alexander stopped walking.

For a second, he simply stared at her, his jaw tightening. Then, slowly, he let out a scoff.

“Well, I wasn’t satisfied with your service.”

Serena’s fingers clenched around the strap of her bag, but her expression remained composed.

What the hell is he talking about?

Alexander tilted his head slightly, watching her reaction.

She was awkward in bed. I had to take control from start to finish. If this is her profession, shouldn’t she know how to please a client?

Sure, she’s attractive. But hundreds of thousands for that? Ridiculous.

Serena, unaware of the direction of his thoughts, merely arched a brow.

“Mr. Vanderbilt, if you could clarify your preferences, I’d be happy to make adjustments accordingly.”

The dim corridor lighting cast delicate shadows on her face, making her features appear even more refined—high cheekbones, a graceful neck, and lips that held the faintest hint of amusement.

Her poise, her complete lack of fluster, only irritated him more.

Alexander found himself pausing, his gaze lingering on her longer than he intended.

Memories of dawn flickered in his mind—her arms wrapped around his neck, her parted lips trembling, her breath warm against his skin. Her expression had been a delicate mix of pain and pleasure, a contradiction that had inexplicably burned itself into his memory. But it was her eyes that stood out the most—deep and luminous, shimmering like rippling water beneath long, delicate lashes. Like lotus petals trembling in the wind.

Serena, unaware of his momentary distraction, lifted her chin slightly, exuding quiet confidence.

"Many of my clients return with new orders because they're satisfied," she said smoothly.

Alexander's brow furrowed slightly.

Her words caught him off guard.

"You have other clients?" His voice was sharper than he intended, and irritation flickered across his face. "Wasn't this your first time providing... your service?"

Serena blinked, momentarily puzzled by his choice of words.

"Of course not," she said, her brows knitting slightly. "I've been in the industry for three years."

Alexander’s jaw tightened, though he couldn't explain why her response grated on him.

The thought of her doing the same thing for others—working with them, satisfying their requests, possibly even meeting them like this—stirred something unfamiliar in him. An inexplicable frustration simmered beneath the surface.

“Fine,” he said curtly. “Don’t follow me anymore. We’re done here. Don’t expect anything else from me.”

Serena tilted her head, confused by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

What had just happened?

His irritation had come out of nowhere, and she had no idea what had triggered it.

"Should I go find Mr. Richardson then?" she asked, genuinely uncertain.

The question was harmless—logical, even—but to Alexander, it felt like deliberate provocation. His frown deepened, his grip tightening at his sides.

"Is he also your client?"

"Sort of," Serena answered with a small nod.

She had no idea why the question seemed to darken his mood even further, but she didn’t dwell on it. In her profession, potential clients were just as important as current ones.

Alexander, however, seemed to take the answer differently. His face hardened, and without another word, he turned on his heel and strode off, his long strides eating up the distance between them.

Serena stood still for a moment, blinking in confusion.

What the hell just happened?

She replayed the conversation in her mind, trying to pinpoint what had set him off. They had barely spoken, yet something she’d said had clearly struck a nerve.

After a moment, she let out a soft sigh and turned in the opposite direction. Whatever his problem was, she didn’t have time to entertain it.

She had a job to do.