(In this chapter, Ava will only be referred to as Serena Morales when the context is about Alexander’s wife otherwise she will be referred as “Ava/Miss Alvarez”, the designer)
---
Ava jolted back to reality, her heart racing. She quickly straightened up, putting distance between them.
Alexander, still leaning against the couch, remained still, eyes closed, as if nothing had happened.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was exhaustion—but for a brief moment, she wondered if he had even been awake.
Her cheeks burned.
Hurriedly, she pulled the blanket over him, barely taking a breath before making her escape.
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, Alexander’s eyes flickered open. He glanced upward, a shadow of confusion in his gaze. But almost as quickly, he shut them again, dismissing the moment as a drunken dream.
Outside the hotel, the cool night breeze helped Ava collect herself.
Her fingers brushed over her lips.
The first time had been during that ridiculous truth-or-dare game—a deliberate, thirty-second kiss. This time, it had lasted mere seconds. Short, but far more intense.
She let out a heavy sigh.
What the hell was that?
For her sake, she prayed he wouldn’t remember.
The last thing she needed was another misunderstanding, especially now that she was about to ask for his help.
---The next morning, Ava had nothing to do.
With all her contracts canceled, there was no point in preparing for Charleston until she resolved the mess in New York.
By 11 a.m., she decided Alexander should be sober enough for a call.
On the other end, Alexander was in the middle of a meeting. He glanced at the caller ID, something flickering in his gaze.
Then, without hesitation, he silenced his phone and gestured for the executives to continue.
Ava, hearing the automated voicemail message, frowned.
Busy? Ignoring me?
Unable to wait, she decided to go to the Vanderbilt family office herself.
There, Jonathan greeted her. "The president is in meetings until five, but he’ll have a thirty-minute break at two. You can wait in his office."
Left with no other option, she sat and waited.
Thirty minutes later, the office door opened. She quickly stood up—only to find herself face-to-face with Diana.
Her stomach dropped.
Diana’s expression was cool, amused even. "Ava, are you aware that Alexander is married?"
Ava’s hands clenched.
Diana set her bag down and continued, "Do you need me to call his wife? There was already an incident in your studio with Patty. Do you really want another one? If this keeps up, no one in this industry will dare to work with you."
It was clear—Diana knew about Patty.
She also knew how easily Ava’s reputation could be destroyed.
"Mrs. Richardson, I can explain—"
Diana ignored her, pulling out her phone. "Father, give me Serena, Alexander’s wife’s number. I need to speak with her."
Serena.
Ava felt her pulse quicken.
Diana had never met Alexander’s wife, but Mr. Vanderbilt Sr. had spoken highly of her. Now, Diana intended to involve her directly.
Diana’s tone was calm, but her intent was firm. She had never met Alexander's so-called wife, but the old man had always spoken highly of her. If she was as reasonable as he claimed, then she needed to step in.
After all, someone was openly interfering with Alexander, and worse—he had allowed it. Letting Ava sit in his office like that? It was unacceptable.
Diana wasn’t one to meddle in his personal affairs, but Alexander was a married man. If word of this got out, the Vanderbilt family would be thrown into chaos. The others would start stirring up trouble, and she needed to put an end to it before it escalated.
If Alexander hadn't admitted it himself, Diana would never have even considered the possibility of him being involved in a one-night stand. That wasn’t like him. If there was another woman, it should have been Victoria—at least that would have made some sense.
Victoria was an old flame, someone Diana could understand. But this? A designer with a questionable reputation? It was unacceptable.
On the other end of the line, Mr. Vanderbilt Sr. frowned. Until now, no one in the family had ever asked for Serena’s contact information. Diana had never inquired about it before either. But now? Something was off.
His eyes narrowed as his mind immediately ran through the possibilities. "Diana," his voice came sharp and laced with suspicion. "Is Alexander messing around outside?"
Diana hesitated.
That single pause was all it took for the old man to confirm his worst suspicions. A deep, thunderous bang echoed through his office as he slammed his hand onto the table.
"Tell that brat to get back here immediately!" he roared then coughed loudly before continuing, "I want to see him within thirty minutes!"
Diana inwardly winced. If I had known he’d react this way, I wouldn’t have made the call.
Still, there was no turning back.
Leaving Ava behind, she strode toward the conference room.
---The meeting was abruptly cut short.
Alexander, frowning, listened to Jonathan’s whisper before sighing.
He already had a feeling what this was about.
Before leaving, he glanced at Ava.
"If you’re in a hurry, wait at my hotel tonight."
The statement was straightforward, but to Diana, who overheard, it sounded like an admission of guilt.
Her jaw tightened.
---By the time Alexander arrived at the Vanderbilt estate, Mr. Vanderbilt Sr. was already waiting.
"You bastard!" The old man’s voice shook with fury. "KNEEL!"
Alexander hesitated for only a second before obeying.
The butler silently handed the old man a whip.
Without another word, the first lash landed hard across Alexander’s back.
Pain burned through him, but he remained silent.
"You—" Another strike. "—dare—" A third. "—to cheat on Serena?"
Alexander’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t move.
The strikes continued, one after another, leaving angry red welts across his back.
From a distance, Grace gasped, eyes wide.
"Father—!"
"Shut up!" Mr. Vanderbilt Sr. barked. "No one pleads for this brat!"
He turned back to Alexander, breathing heavily. "Do you think marriage is a joke? Serena is your wife! And you—!"
Another snap of the whip. Blood seeped through Alexander’s shirt.
Grace wanted to intervene, but she knew better.
Minutes passed before the old man finally threw the whip aside, exhausted. His body trembled, his breath ragged.
Still kneeling, Alexander remained composed.
The old man exhaled, shaking his head.
"I don’t care how you feel about her," he said finally. "You’ve consummated this marriage. You have a duty to her. I won’t tell Serena about this, but you owe her an apology. Buy her a gift. Make it up to her. And if I ever hear about another woman again—"
A cold, furious glint flashed in his eyes.
"—you won’t just be the one paying for it."
Alexander’s stomach twisted.
For some reason, the thought of Serena being punished for something she had nothing to do with… unsettled him.
"Get out!" the old man snapped. "(Cough, cough.) And buy her something nice."
With that, he turned away, signaling that the conversation was over.
Alexander stood, his back throbbing in pain.
Diana offered him his coat. He didn’t take it. Instead, he looked at the old man one last time and said, "Take care of your health, Grandfather."
The old man scoffed. "I’ll live to be a hundred, you ungrateful brat."
Alexander said nothing as he started walking away.
Just as Alexander turned to leave, Mr. Vanderbilt Sr.’s voice rang out once more, firm and unwavering.
"Buy Serena a gift. You owe her for this disgrace. Even if she remains unaware, you still need to make amends."
Alexander's jaw tightened. His fingers curled slightly at his sides, but he showed no outward resistance.
He already wanted nothing to do with that woman—now, he was expected to compensate her?
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
A beat passed before he finally responded, his tone devoid of warmth.
"Alright."
---
Once they got out of The Vanderbilt Villa gates, Diana caught up with Alexander and sighed, "Xander, I didn’t think Father would get so mad. I’m really sorry.”
"Aunt Diana, this isn’t on you. It’s between Ava and me,” Alexander said coldly.
Diana’s face turned cold at the mention of Ava. "Look, I don’t mean to butt in, but you’ve already been whipped. Just let it go and break it off with her. Who knows what Cornelius Vanderbilt will do next time, and she might get caught up in it too.”
Alexander replied, "Aunt, I know what I’m doing.
Diana knew pushing it further would just make things worse, so she stayed quiet.
When he got into his car, he barely touched the seat. The pain radiated through his spine, making it unbearable to lean back.
His phone rang. It was Ava.
"Mr. Vanderbilt, I’m at the hotel. Are you coming back tonight?"
His grip on the wheel tightened. Cold sweat formed at his temple.
"Mm."
His voice was flat as he hung up.
Ava waited in the hallway, relieved when she finally saw him approaching.
"Mr. Vanderbilt, I wanted to discuss—"
Ignoring her, he swiped his keycard and stepped inside.
She followed, closing the door behind them.
Something felt off.
A faint, metallic scent lingered in the air.
Her brows furrowed.
Was that… blood?
Alexander casually removed his jacket but hesitated when he remembered she was there. Instead, he lowered himself onto the couch.
"Did my aunt interfere with your orders?"
Ava blinked.
He remembered.
"Yes," she admitted.
"Did your studio take a hit?"
Her heart warmed slightly at the unexpected question. "It’s alright, but because I wasn’t very well-liked there to begin with, some designers are upset with me."
Alexander exhaled. "I’ll handle it. My aunt won’t bother you again."
Relief washed over her. "Thank you, Mr. Vanderbilt."
For a moment, there was silence.
A heavy, lingering tension.
Ava quickly stood. "I won’t disturb—"
A knock at the door interrupted her.
"President, is your injury alright?"
It was Jonathan.
A first-aid kit in hand.
Ava froze. Injury?
Her eyes darted to Alexander, realization dawning.
That faint scent of blood. The stiffness in his movements.
He was hurt.
Upon closer inspection, Ava noticed the faint sheen of sweat on Alexander’s forehead and the unnatural pallor of his lips. Something was wrong.
Jonathan, who had just entered with a first aid kit, paused in surprise when he saw her. He hadn't expected Ava to be here. Seizing the opportunity, he turned to her with a hopeful smile.
"Miss Alvarez, since you’re already here, could you help the President with his medication? You’re more meticulous than I am, and your hands are gentler," he said smoothly, setting the medicine box down.
Ava hesitated. Alexander had helped her multiple times—how could she refuse now?
Without waiting for a reply, Jonathan conveniently found an excuse to leave. He had seen this woman in the President’s presence far too often for it to be a coincidence. Something was definitely going on between them. But whether it would develop further? That depended entirely on Alexander...
Whitney nearly dropped her phone.Her heart slammed in her chest as she stared at the message on her screen. Just five minutes ago, she had been trashing this exact person using a burner account—and now Serena was messaging her directly?Did she know? Could Serena somehow have figured out it was her behind those nasty posts?No... no way. That would be impossible.Then she looked again.Serena:Whitney, hey. I'm here to invite you to sign with E.A. Corporation.Whitney exhaled in pure relief. So it wasn't about the gossip. They were trying to poach her.Instantly, her panic gave way to smug satisfaction, and she slid into full diva mode.Whitney:Sorry, I’m currently the lead in a major TV drama. My schedule’s packed. Plus, my performance’s pretty phenomenal—maybe even award-worthy. I probably won’t have time to meet.She hit send and leaned back, sm
Cornelius let out a cold, derisive laugh. “So this is how it ends? I boasted to Serena about how outstanding you were, and what did it amount to? She still turned you down.”His words were sharp, each one slicing through Alexander’s composure like a blade. Alexander’s jaw tightened, a flicker of pain crossing his features. He forced himself to remain calm.“Grandpa,” he said slowly, “don’t you want Serena to be your granddaughter-in-law too?”Cornelius let out a scoff, this one harsher than the last. “I’m not the one forcing her. If you can’t win her back, then don’t waste my time—and don’t interrupt my meal.”The dismissal was absolute. No affection, no encouragement—just cold finality.Alexander stood, his posture rigid. He picked up the painting he had personally arranged to be delivered as a gift, ready to leave with it. But before he could step out the door, Cornelius slammed the floor with his cane.The sharp crack echoed through the room.Alexander paused, then silently set the
"Marilyn!" Serena rushed forward, catching her just as she stumbled. Mikhail was right behind, steadying her other side with a firm hand.Marilyn’s mind was a blur—static noise, white-hot and blinding. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything beyond the numbness sinking deep into her bones.They managed to get her into a hospital room. A nurse handed her a small bottle of sweet glucose water, and Serena gently helped tip it to her lips. Colors swirled around her field of vision like a kaleidoscope—too bright, too fast.The doctor stood at the bedside, clipboard in hand. “Her blood sugar dipped a bit, likely brought on by emotional shock. Nothing serious. What she needs now is rest, both physically and mentally.”Serena nodded silently, her gaze fixed on Marilyn, who sat pale and quiet against the starched white sheets. Her usually bright eyes were flat now, drained of their usual sparkle.Seven years.Seven years of love, trust, and promises—shattered in a heartbea
Alexander moved first, disappearing around the corner with a flick of his eyes—quick, calculated. His gaze lingered just long enough to catch Serena behind him.She didn’t follow.Instead, she said something softly to Simon and gave him a small, discreet wave to go ahead. No dramatics, no hesitation.Simon nodded, adjusted the cuff of his blazer, and turned the opposite way with her.As they walked off, Alexander’s jaw tightened. A muscle in his cheek twitched, betraying his restraint. He stood still, lips pressed thin, eyes locked on the empty hallway until their footsteps faded.Outside, Serena and Simon stepped into the crisp night air, leaving the heady din of Broadway Bar behind them. The city buzzed around them—horns in the distance, neon lights bouncing off wet pavement. They walked in silence for a bit before ducking into a quiet, artsy café tucked between a used bookstore and a flower shop.The café had an old-soul charm—warm amber lighting, mismatched wooden chairs, and the s
Whatever. I’ll win her back sooner or later, Alexander thought with arrogant certainty, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.He flicked his gaze toward the stack of documents on his desk, his voice sharp and commanding. “From now on, don’t even think about contacting her.”Liam stood there awkwardly, lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. The weight of Alexander’s tone pinned him in place. A beat later, he gave a stiff nod and backed out of the office, the door clicking shut behind him.Alone now, Alexander leaned back in his leather chair, his expression darkening as his thoughts unraveled.Alexei. Richard. And that damn actor—Austin.His jaw clenched.Why the hell are there so many men around her?The more he thought about it, the more the rage simmered beneath his skin. Not long ago, he had been her husband—her only man. Now, it felt like he had to queue up just to earn a sliver of her attention. The indignity of it grated at him.And Alexei—Alexander was convinced th
The next morning, Serena headed straight to E.A. Corporation.As soon as she stepped into her bright, modern office, her footsteps froze. Someone was already inside — sitting calmly in her chair. Alexander Vanderbilt.For a brief moment, she wondered if she was seeing things. Then reality struck: he’d found out about her true identity, and with Alexander’s resources, of course he would have dug deeper.He was lounging back in the chair like he owned the place, reviewing a thick contract folder, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar as though he had all the time in the world.So this is where she works now? Alexander mused, scanning the framed photos on her shelves, the scent of fresh coffee still lingering in the air.She had turned the Morales family’s crumbling company around almost single-handedly, now even venturing boldly into the film industry. Hugo’s screenplay had become a hit, and their current production was pulling in rave reviews.When she entered, Alexander finall