* FREE - Appreciation for Our Readers * Chapter 104 : If I could have one night with her, I’d gladly spend three years in Africa

As soon as Alexander got into the car, his phone rang. It was Victoria.

"Alexander, I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes. Where are you?"

He glanced at his watch. "The meeting just ended. I’ll be there in twenty minutes."

"You’re still so devoted to work," she huffed, her voice carrying a hint of grievance. "How can you bear to let me stand here waiting?"

"Find a place to sit," he replied, rubbing his temple, his tone flat and devoid of emotion.

Victoria fell silent for a moment, then her voice softened, tinged with something unspoken. "Alexander, you’ve changed. You weren’t like this before."

He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I’ll be there soon. The restaurant is already reserved."

Her mood seemed to brighten. "Okay, I’ll wait for you."

After hanging up, Alexander sat motionless in his seat, staring blankly ahead. Jonathan, sitting in the front, caught his expression in the rearview mirror but remained silent, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

Twenty minutes later, the car pulled up to the airport.

Victoria stood outside, her sharp eyes spotting the familiar car immediately. Her lips curved as she hurried over, pulling open the door. "Alexander!"

With a bright, affectionate smile, she threw her arms around him, pressing herself close. "I really missed you," she whispered.

Alexander stiffened, his arms unmoving at his sides.

Victoria held onto him a little longer than necessary before stepping back, still smiling. "Come on, let’s go eat. Jonathan, drive a bit faster—I’m starving."

She settled into the seat beside him, and he reached over to place her small suitcase at his feet instead of in the trunk.

Watching this, Victoria felt a warmth spread through her chest.

Alexander had always been the epitome of composure—reserved, polite, yet with a quiet charm that drew people in. Even after all these years, he still had that effect on her.

Blushing slightly, she glanced at him. "I take back what I said earlier. I thought you’d changed, but you haven’t. You’re still so good to me, Alexander."

He gave no response, merely adjusting his seat.

Victoria pouted playfully. "If I hadn’t called, would you have ever reached out to me?"

Alexander sighed. "How have you been overseas?"

"If I answer that, will you actually listen?" she teased, tilting her head. "Or will you just pretend to be interested?"

When he didn’t respond, she chuckled softly. "Typical."

The car soon pulled up in front of a familiar restaurant, one that held many memories for her. Victoria’s eyes sparkled.

"You still remember," she said softly, touched. "This is my favorite restaurant."

A white-gloved waiter promptly opened the door for them.

Victoria stepped out but suddenly turned to Alexander with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "By the way, after dinner, do we need to go meet your wife?"

She wanted to see for herself what kind of woman had taken her place, what kind of woman had dared to stand beside Alexander Vanderbilt.

His expression turned cold. "Why would I see her?"

Victoria’s heart fluttered at his dismissive tone.

So, he truly didn’t care about that woman.

"I just thought it would be interesting," she said coyly, linking her arm through his. "I’m curious about the woman who caught Cornelius Vanderbilt’s attention."

"She only saved my grandfather’s life," Alexander replied indifferently.

Victoria beamed, satisfied. She had spent years worrying about another woman taking her place, but it seemed her fears had been unfounded.

As they reached the restaurant entrance, someone suddenly blocked their path.

Alexander's gaze sharpened as he recognized the man standing before them—Alexei Volkov.

The Russian businessman smirked, twirling a set of car keys in his hand.

"Miss Laurent, back in New York at last?"

Victoria straightened, tucking her hair behind her ear with a poised smile. "Mr. Volkov. It has been a while."

Alexei's gaze shifted between her and Alexander, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Well, well… congratulations, Vanderbilt. The woman you’ve been waiting for all these years has finally returned. I assume that means you’ll be getting a divorce soon?"

Alexander’s expression darkened instantly.

Victoria, sensing his silence, quickly filled the gap. "The woman at Alexander’s house was only chosen by Cornelius. It was never Alexander’s decision."

Alexei let out a low chuckle. "Is that so?" He looked directly at Alexander. "Then I assume you wouldn’t mind if I took her off your hands?"

Victoria tensed, momentarily caught off guard.

Alexander’s voice was cold. "If you’re interested, she’s yours."

Alexei’s smirk deepened. "I’ll hold you to that."

Victoria barely contained her scoff. Was this woman really that desperate? First Alexander, now Alexei?

She leaned closer to Alexander. "Mr. Volkov seems… intrigued by her," she said lightly, feigning innocence.

Alexander didn’t respond, simply pushing open the restaurant door and walking inside.

Victoria glanced back at Alexei with a polite smile. "You don’t need to worry, Mr. Volkov. Alexander won’t regret letting her go. Their marriage was forced on him. He never wanted it." 

As she spoke, a glimmer of satisfaction flickered in her eyes—subtle but unmistakable to Alexei, who had an eye for such things.

Alexei chuckled, but his eyes held something unreadable. 

He lingered at the entrance for a moment before stepping inside, casually following them. After all, he had come here to dine as well.

His seat, deliberately chosen, was positioned just close enough to observe the scene unfolding at Alexander’s table. The restaurant’s warm, ambient lighting cast a golden glow over the polished wood and crisp white linens, highlighting the soft gleam of crystal glasses and the quiet elegance of the setting. From this vantage point, Alexei had a perfect view of Alexander sliding the menu across the table toward Victoria, his movements smooth and deliberate. Victoria, in turn, glanced up at him, her lips curling into a soft smile as she spoke—eyes filled with something that could be interpreted as familiarity, or perhaps something deeper.

Alexei, ever the observer, saw an opportunity. He angled his phone just right, capturing the moment with expert precision—Victoria’s expression open and engaged, Alexander’s unreadable but undeniably present. The framing was impeccable, making it appear as though they were locked in a quiet, intimate exchange. Satisfied, he sent the image to Ava with a single caption:

[Your husband is about to have a girlfriend soon.]

He leaned back, waiting for a reaction. With the kind of convoluted relationship Ava had with Alexander, surely this would rattle her. After all, whether they admitted it or not, there was something there—something unspoken, something unresolved.

Alexander was a man who commanded attention without trying. A presence like his was magnetic, drawing people in with a quiet pull that was hard to resist. And Victoria? She was practically leaning into him, her body language betraying her eagerness.

Alexei smirked, watching, waiting.

But time passed, and his phone remained stubbornly silent. It wasn’t until the end of the meal that a reply finally came through.

One word.

[Congratulations.]

Alexei blinked, then let out a quiet chuckle.

So, Ava wasn’t shaken at all? She didn’t even care?

The irony of it amused him. Here was Alexander, a man trying to cut ties with Ava by any means necessary, and yet it seemed that she, of all people, was the least affected by him.

Now that was interesting...

---

News of Victoria’s return spread quickly, igniting gossip across New York’s elite circles.

At a high-end bar, a group of wealthy socialites sipped on expensive liquor, their conversation buzzing with speculation.

"How long do you think it’ll take for Victoria to officially become Mrs. Vanderbilt?" someone asked, swirling their drink.

"A month, tops," another chimed in. "Alexander never even acknowledges his wife. She must be too ashamed to show her face in public."

"Exactly. Has anyone even seen her? Not once, not even at Alexander’s welcome banquet."

"She must be plain-looking," one of the women sneered. "Otherwise, why would Alexander keep her hidden?"

Alexei, lounging nearby with a glass of red wine, smirked as he listened to their chatter.

"You’re all so sure that Alexander’s wife is desperate to cling to him," he mused. "But what if she’s the one who wants out?"

The group fell silent, before bursting into laughter.

A woman scoffed. "Please, Mr. Volkov. Any woman would kill to be Mrs. Vanderbilt."

Alexei took a slow sip of his wine, his smirk deepening.

"I’ve seen her," he said casually.

All eyes snapped to him.

"And if she ever divorces," he continued, "I’ll be the first in line to pursue her."

His words sent a ripple of disbelief through the group.

One man chuckled. "Come on, Alexei. You only go for supermodels. What could possibly interest you about her?"

Alexei's gaze darkened slightly as he thought of Ava. She was unlike any of the women here—unbothered, independent, and undeniably intriguing.

"If I could have one night with her," he murmured, swirling his drink, "I’d gladly spend three years in Africa."

The bar went dead silent.

A few people exchanged stunned glances before someone finally spoke.

"Wait… are you serious?"

Alexei leaned back lazily. "Alexander himself told me he’d give her to me."

Gasps and murmurs filled the room.

A woman clutched her glass tighter. "Then why would you say he’d regret it?"

Alexei smirked, finishing his drink.

"Because once he realizes what he let go of," he said smoothly, "it’ll be too late." 

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Dear Gentle Readers, what do you think of Alexei Volkov?