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Chapter 8 : She is not my wife
Last Updated:
2025-01-02 17:43:52
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The cold metal cuffs snapped tightly around Serena’s wrists, the metallic clink jolting her into harsh reality. She stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes locked on the two uniformed officers.“Miss Alvarez, you’re under investigation for a hit-and-run,” one officer repeated, holding up a tablet displaying grainy footage of the incident. “This is the surveillance video. It shows clearly that at 6:25 p.m. you hit the Bentley’s rear and left without any contact information. The owner demands to hold you accountable.” Her heart sank as the video played. It clearly showed her car rolling forward and colliding with a Bentley after being struck from behind. But the angle failed to capture the speeding vehicle responsible for the initial impact, making her look solely at fault.“This is a mistake,” Serena said, her voice steady despite the growing knot of anxiety in her chest. “Another car hit me first. I didn’t—”The officer raised a hand, silencing her. “You can explain at the station. Plea
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The sun climbed over the skyline, casting long shadows across New York’s bustling streets. Jonathan adjusted his tie nervously as he paced outside Alexander’s office. The investigation into the hit-and-run had taken most of the night, but they finally had results—results that pointed to Miss Alvarez’s innocence. He knew Alexander well enough to understand how his boss hated being wrong, especially when it involved personal matters. He clutched a folder containing the results of a night-long investigation that finally shed light on the hit-and-run incident.With a steadying breath, Jonathan knocked on the door and entered. Alexander was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his hands tucked into his pockets, a cold morning light casting shadows across his sharp features.“Sir,” Jonathan began, holding out a folder, “we’ve identified the other vehicle involved in the incident. It belongs to Veronica Taylor, wife of Henry Taylor.” Alexander’s brow furrowed. “Veronica Taylor?” That na
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Later that afternoon, Jonathan returned to Alexander’s office with a report. “Sir, the police have officially delivered an apology to Miss Alvarez, and the charges have been dropped.”“Good,” Alexander replied, though his tone remained cold and detached. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the polished mahogany desk as he drifted into thought.Jonathan hesitated before speaking again, choosing his words with care. “Would you like me to arrange a call with Miss Alvarez? A gesture from you might go a long way in mending things.”Alexander’s eyes flicked toward him, sharp as ever but devoid of anger. Instead, there was something else—hesitation, perhaps? He loathed unresolved matters, and this situation felt particularly tangled. Yet, the idea of reaching out gnawed at his pride.“No need,” he said after a long pause. Jonathan gave a curt nod and quietly left the office, leaving Alexander alone with his thoughts.As the door clicked shut, Alexander leaned back in his chair, exhaling slow
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Serena’s parted lips trembled faintly, a delicate contrast to her shallow, erratic breaths. The effects of the psychedelic drug made her gaze misty, her usual sharpness was dulled. Her eyes, misted and unfocused, held a vulnerability that tugged at Alexander in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Alexander’s mind flickered with images he had deliberately tried to forget, but her current state brought them rushing back—memories of the way she had looked at him that night.For reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend, his heart skipped a beat.Feeling his steady warmth beneath her trembling fingers, Serena instinctively tightened her grip around him, her petite frame pressing closer against his rigid form. She wasn’t thinking—she couldn’t. All she knew was that Alexander felt like the only anchor in her swirling, feverish world. Michael, standing mere feet away, grew increasingly bewildered. His‘Didn’t Alexander deny that she was his wife earlier today? So what’s going on now?’ His mind spun with
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Alexander stood beside the bathtub, his trousers clinging to his legs, soaked from the water Serena had splashed. The damp fabric did little to hide his body’s involuntary reaction—a response he found both unexpected and infuriating. The faint memories of that night, which he had worked hard to suppress, now resurfaced with maddening clarity.He had never imagined that a simple word—honey—could unsettle him like this.“If you’re sober, get out,” he said gruffly, though his voice came out hoarser than intended.Serena’s wet clothes clung to her body, tracing every curve in stark detail. Her long black hair, slick and plastered to her flushed cheeks, made her look like a siren emerging from the depths of the sea—innocent and seductive in equal measure. She smiled faintly, her expression dazed, as if unaware of how disheveled yet alluring she appeared.Feeling the oppressive heat return, Serena shifted, preparing to climb out of the tub. But Alexander wasn’t about to let her. Without hes
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Serena stood barefoot, dripping wet, her long hair plastered against her back. Droplets of water trickled down her neck, soaking the towel clutched tightly around her chest. Her bare toes curled subconsciously, as if seeking stability on the cold floor. She looked fragile yet resilient, her discomfort betrayed only by the slight tremble in her posture. Alexander’s gaze flicked down, lingering momentarily on her soaked figure. Her drenched clothes clung tightly to her form, outlining every curve. He closed his laptop with a soft click, leaning back with a sneer. “Honey?” he echoed mockingly, his tone sharp. “You’re not even bothering to hide your agenda anymore, are you?” His words sliced through the already fragile atmosphere, making Serena flinch inwardly. Serena instinctively glanced down at herself, only to notice her current state—drenched, with the outline of her underwear starkly visible beneath the thin towel. Embarrassment surged through her like a tidal wave. Her face, pale
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Alexander froze, certain he had misheard her. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying Serena with a mixture of confusion and intrigue.Serena, unfazed by his silence, retracted her hand with practiced ease, her expression remaining composed. She had expected a reaction—just not this one.“I’ve tried reaching out to you several times, but you didn’t seem interested. Perhaps, since you still have my work in hand, this is a better time to discuss it,” she said smoothly, her voice even and professional. “If so, I assume I still have a chance to make it up to you.”In all his life, Alexander Vanderbilt had never encountered a situation quite like this. He, who always maintained control, now found himself momentarily caught off guard.The words interior designer echoed in his mind. His gaze dropped to the photo he was holding, and for the first time, he noticed the small, neat signature at the bottom—Ava Alvarez. Alongside it was a number, presumably her contact information.A frown creased hi
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The room grew silent, the ticking of the wall clock amplifying the tension. Alexander remained still, caught off guard by Serena’s composed response. For a moment, he wondered if he was hallucinating. Did she just call him her husband? Had she mistaken him for someone else, or was this part of a ploy he didn’t fully understand?Under the soft glow of the crystal chandelier, Serena’s face was serene as she continued. “I can’t remember what happened that night in detail, and I assume you’ve forgotten as well. I apologize for addressing you improperly earlier.”Her tone was even, devoid of any trace of awkwardness. She shifted the conversation effortlessly back to business. “If you’re interested in my design work, feel free to share your requirements.” Her professionalism made it clear that she had no intention of dwelling on what had transpired. Araminta’s scheming may have led to that night, but Serena wasn’t about to let it dictate her future.Alexander remained silent, his mind drift
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The nurse hesitated for a moment but then entered Alfonso’s hospital room, pushing the small stainless steel tray in front of her. The overhead fluorescent lights cast a sterile glow over the stark white walls, and the faint scent of antiseptic filled the air.The two bodyguards stationed outside barely spared her a glance. She was the same nurse who had been tending to Alfonso’s care for days, her presence routine and unremarkable.Inside, Alfonso lay motionless on the hospital bed, his breathing slow and mechanical. His face was gaunt, his skin sallow under the artificial lighting. The machines beside him hummed a rhythmic yet fragile tune, a constant reminder of his precarious condition.With practiced hands, the nurse reached for the syringe, carefully drawing the medication into it, preparing to inject it into the IV bag.But just as she brought the needle close to the drip chamber, Alfonso’s eyes shot open—wide and filled with sudden panic. His body convulsed, his chest heaving
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Ava made her way to Le Châteauesque Manor today. It had been a few days since she last checked in on Rex, and the thought of how his surgical wound was healing gnawed at her.As she stepped through the grand iron gates, the scent of freshly trimmed hedges and late-blooming roses filled the crisp afternoon air. The estate's sprawling gardens, once a place of quiet solace, felt strangely empty without Rex bounding through them.Aunt Torres's face lit up the moment she spotted Ava, her warm smile deepening the wrinkles around her eyes. "I just took Rex for a walk," she said, brushing her hands against her apron. "Rex has been restless."With Alexander still absent, Aunt Torres hadn't dared let Rex roam freely. Instead, the loyal dog had been confined to the spacious back room, his days spent pacing within its walls.As soon as Ava entered, Rex's ears perked up, and the sound of his frantic barking echoed through the manor. He recognized her instantly.Her heart ached.She hurried over, cr
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Ava reached for the car door handle but hesitated, her fingers lingering against the cool metal. With a deep breath, she sank back into her seat, turning to Alexander. "Mr. Vanderbilt, if Miss Victoria Laurent comes after me again… can I still count on you for help?"Her voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable weight behind her words. She wasn’t asking lightly. The Morales family couldn’t compete with the power and influence of the Laurents, let alone the Vanderbilts. Victoria was his girlfriend, and with his support, she could become even more ruthless.Alexander’s hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, his gaze unreadable. A silence stretched between them before he finally spoke. "Why do you think I would take your side?"Ava met his stare, determined. "It’s not about taking sides. It’s about doing what’s right. At least I never provoked Miss Laurent. She’s the one who sees me as a rival—even though, between you and me, Mr. Vanderbilt, there’s nothing going on."The mome
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The meeting, originally scheduled for two hours, stretched into three due to an unexpected change midway. By the time it finally concluded, Alexander shut his laptop and glanced out the window. Night had fallen completely, and the cityscape shimmered with golden lights, illuminating the skyline in a breathtaking display.He had informed Jonathan earlier that he would be driving himself tonight, so his assistant had already left. Now, the only person remaining in the office with him was Ava.Alexander rose from his chair and made his way toward her. She was curled up on the couch, fast asleep, her breathing soft and even. For a moment, he hesitated. She looked peaceful—almost fragile—under the warm office lights, and he didn’t want to wake her. But he had to.“Ava,” he called gently.Dressed in his impeccably tailored suit, he reached out a hand and nudged her lightly with his long fingertips. Instead of waking up properly, Ava instinctively reached out and grasped his hand, her finger
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Ava furrowed her brows slightly. Was losing her position such a devastating blow to Michelle?Tears streamed down Michelle's face, her expression twisted with rage and humiliation. "He actually sided with you—he actually sided with you! There must be something unspeakable between you two! You seduced him, you wretched woman! I hope you rot in hell!"Ava found the accusation almost laughable. Now, she fully understood—Michelle’s fury wasn’t just about losing her job. Alexander must have dismissed her personally, delivering a blow to both her career and her pride.Watching Michelle unravel, Ava decided she had tolerated enough. Striding forward as the security guards held Michelle back, she landed two sharp slaps across her face.The sound echoed in the tense air.Michelle stood frozen, her wide eyes filled with disbelief as she slowly raised a trembling hand to her stinging cheek. "You dare to hit me?"Ava smiled, a slow and deliberate curve of her lips. "Yes. I do."She leaned in slig
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The city stretched out beyond the vast floor-to-ceiling windows of the Vanderbilt family’s office, its skyline glowing against the velvet night. The twinkling lights reflected off the polished mahogany desk where Alexander sat, a stark contrast to his cold, impassive demeanor. Shadows from the skyscrapers flickered across the glass, but he remained motionless, focused on the papers before him.Jonathan entered the room, a stack of documents in hand, his expression tinged with hesitation. "Sir," he began cautiously, "I heard that PW Group has signed a cooperation agreement with the Morales family."Alexander didn’t even glance up. His fingers tapped idly against the edge of his pen, his attention still fixed on the contract before him.Jonathan hesitated before continuing. "Five hundred million dollars. That’s the Morales family’s two-year order volume, and they have to complete it within six months. If they fail, they’ll face severe penalties—possibly even bankruptcy."The silence tha
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Ava's forehead furrowed deeper as she scanned the document in front of her. It outlined a five hundred million dollar collaboration between the Morales family and PW Group, yet it was frustratingly vague on specifics.Her fingers tightened around the paper. What kind of deal required such an astronomical cash flow? Even during the last round of financing, the Vanderbilt family hadn’t invested this much. This project was larger than any she had seen before.A cold sense of unease settled in her chest. Something wasn’t right.Without wasting another moment, she picked up her phone and called Alexei Volkov. After acquiring Mr. Thompson’s company, Alexei had gained considerable insight into PW Group, far more than Rachel would know.When he picked up, there was an unmistakable smirk in his voice. “Ava, really? You only call me when you need something? What happened to our friendship?”His tone was teasing, but she didn’t have time for games.“Mr. Volkov,” she said, trying to keep her voice
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With his passport, bank card, and phone securely in his pocket, Kenny was just about to leisurely step into his car when—out of nowhere—a rough burlap sack was thrown over his head."Who?!" he shouted, his voice laced with sudden panic.There was no answer. Instead, a pair of strong hands grabbed him, dragging him backward into a dark alley. Before he could struggle, blunt blows landed on his body—hard, merciless strikes from what felt like wooden clubs. A dull, sickening pain spread through his limbs as the world around him became a blur of agony.Kenny's mind raced. He was supposed to be on a flight out of the country tonight. The money had already been transferred, and Alfonso could wake up at any moment. If Alfonso identified him, everything—years of careful scheming, countless manipulations—would be ruined. Who the hell was doing this? And why now, at the worst possible moment?Damn it!Fear coiled in his gut as he tried to bargain. "Stop hitting me! I'll give you fifty thousand d
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The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, mixing with the faint hum of medical equipment monitoring every breath Alfonso took. The dim lighting in the hospital room cast long shadows, making the space feel colder than it already was.Ava sat beside the bed, her fingers curled around her father’s frail, calloused hand. She had spent the last few days in a relentless cycle of worry, exhaustion, and hope, unsure whether he would wake up at all.Then, finally, a flicker of movement.Alfonso's eyelids fluttered before slowly, painstakingly, opening. His eyes, bloodshot and rimmed with exhaustion, locked onto Ava’s face. There was something in them—something urgent, desperate, almost pleading. But when he tried to speak, the oxygen mask stifled his words, reducing them to shallow gasps.Ava’s heart clenched at the sight."Dad," she said softly, squeezing his hand. "Please don’t push yourself. You're still recovering. You need to take it slow."Tears welled up in his eyes, spillin
