(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...
Ava hesitated for a moment before picking up the medicine box. She had no choice but to go through with this. “Mr. Vanderbilt, where are you injured?”The scent of blood in the air suddenly made sense—his old wound must have reopened. But Alexander said nothing. Instead, after a moment of silence, he slowly turned his back and shrugged off his jacket.Ava’s breath caught in her throat.The deep, crisscrossing wounds covering his back were brutal—angry red gashes that hadn’t yet begun to heal. Her hands trembled, and the medicine box slipped from her grasp, hitting the floor with a sharp clatter.“Mr. Vanderbilt, what happened to you?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.Alexander didn’t respond, but through the mirror in front of him, he could see her expression—genuine shock, her pupils quivering with worry. For some reason, that look unsettled him.Ava quickly bent down, grabbing the medicine box with shaky hands. The fabric of his shirt
The next morning, Ava awoke to find Alexander already seated on the opposite sofa. His posture was composed, his face unreadable as he scanned through a stack of documents.She quickly rubbed her eyes, straightening up. The air between them was oddly quiet. She stole a glance at the clock on the wall.Six o’clock.Even on a day off, he was up this early?"Mr. Vanderbilt?" Her voice was still laced with sleep, soft and uncertain.Alexander didn’t look up, merely responding with a low grunt as he neatly folded a document.Realizing she should freshen up, Ava hurried to the bathroom. When she emerged, she hesitated before asking, "Mr. Vanderbilt, would you like some breakfast? I can bring something up for you. Also, your back injury—should we go to the hospital today?"Alexander flipped another page, his tone indifferent. "Whatever’s fine."Taking that as permission, Ava grabbed her coat and headed downstairs to fetch breakfast. ---The hotel's breakfast buffet was already bustling, but
Dear Gentle Readers, Please enjoy... Soon Alexander’s proposal to Ava will come! Grazie mille. Yours, E. C.--- Back at the Upper West Side, Ava allowed herself a moment of rest before her phone rang. It was a call from one of her former business partners—the same one who had recently canceled their order. This time, however, they were calling to reinstate it.She exhaled in relief, pressing her fingers against her temples to soothe her lingering tension. At least things were looking up on that front.But as she leaned back against the couch, her thoughts drifted to Alexander’s injuries. The scars on his back had been brutal, and while she knew Mr. Vanderbilt Sr. was strict, punishing Alexander without investigating the truth was harsh.More than anything, she understood the underlying reason for Alexander's tolerance toward this marriage—it wasn’t for love or companionship. It was for his grandfather.As the clock neared seven, Ava debated calling the old man to speak on Alexander’
Alexander, unfazed, merely shot the waiter a glance.The waiter smiled knowingly. "Enjoy your meal."Ava cleared her throat. "Mr. Vanderbilt, you probably don’t go out to eat with women much. This restaurant caters specifically to couples."She spoke lightly, without a trace of embarrassment, as if it were nothing more than an amusing coincidence.Alexander remained composed. "You seem familiar with this place. Do you come here often with your husband?"Her fingers stiffened slightly around the menu."Um… maybe once or twice."Once or twice?His frown deepened.Her husband had only brought her to a place like this once or twice?It didn’t sit right with him, but he let it go. It wasn’t his concern.Ava quickly redirected her focus, her eyes falling on Alexander’s hand.His fingers rested on the table near the scattered red roses. The contrast—the stark white of his skin against the deep crimson of the petals—created a visually striking image.It was… artistic.She wanted to paint it la
A week passed without incident. Both Ava and Alexander were in Charleston for business.Ava was overseeing a project when Aunt Mona suddenly appeared, visibly distressed. Her eyes were red from crying as she clutched Ava’s hands desperately."Ava, I beg you! You know Mr. Vanderbilt, don’t you? He has connections. Please, help me—Jared has been detained. If he goes to jail, his life will be ruined!"Ava tensed at the mention of Jared. Her cousin had never brought anything but trouble. Yet, seeing Aunt Mona so desperate, she couldn't turn away completely. She sighed, rubbing her temples."I’ll try," she said, reluctant but unable to ignore her uncle and aunt’s kindness in the past.Aunt Mona’s grip tightened as she wiped away fresh tears. "Jared only came back for a visit, and now this… If something happens to him, I won’t be able to go on living!"Ava exhaled sharply. "Aunt, crying won’t solve anything. I’ll see what I can do, but Jared assau
The night stretched over the city in a quiet hush, the skyline dotted with the glow of distant skyscrapers. At a private high-rise hotel, Alexander had just finished showering. Dressed in a loose silk robe, he stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, skimming through the last of the documents on his tablet. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows over the elegant furnishings of the suite, giving the space a warm yet distant ambiance.A persistent knock at the door broke the silence. Lynne.Alexander’s jaw tightened. He ignored it at first, but her voice floated in through the heavy wooden door."Alexander, you don’t seem in a good mood tonight. Do you need me to keep you company?"Her tone was laced with careful seduction, but it only deepened his frown. With an air of finality, he set his tablet aside and walked toward the door, pulling it open.Lynne’s face lit up, her delicate features painted with hope as she instinctively clung to
Alfonso’s health had been deteriorating, and yet after spending several days in the hospital, he decided to return to the Morales estate without informing anyone. Araminta had insisted he remain hospitalized for at least a week, especially since Valentina was in the ward upstairs and Josh was occupied with work at the company. Yet, despite their protests, Alfonso quietly left.As he stepped into the grand yet eerily silent Morales estate, his brows knitted in confusion. The place was unsettlingly quiet—none of the servants were in sight. He didn’t recall giving them leave. A feeling of unease settled in his chest as he ascended the grand staircase, following the faint sound of voices from his bedroom.Pausing outside the door, he recognized Araminta’s voice, sharp and conspiratorial."That old fool has liver cancer and won’t last more than a year. The doctor said at most twelve months. Once he’s gone, the company w
(From here, Serena will be referred to as Ava or Miss Alvarez, as Alexander recognizes her as “Ava Alvarez,” the designer.)Ava stood quietly in the corner, her posture still and her gaze lowered. Shadows clung to the delicate contours of her face, and despite her natural beauty, an air of exhaustion dulled her usual radiance. She looked fragile, like a fractured gem left in the dark, waiting to be forgotten.Alexander’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, recalling the previous day when he had seen her standing outside in Charleston. The sunlight had bathed her in a soft glow, making it seem as if she would dissolve into the light at any second and vanish. Now, here she was again—silent, distant, detached.The elevator reached the top floor, and Alexander stepped out first. He didn’t expect her to follow, but the faint sound of footsteps behind him confirmed that she had. When he reached his door, he finally broke the silence."Is there something you need?" His voice was quiet, laced
Colton barely spared a glance at the chaos unraveling behind him. With a cool indifference that only years of elite breeding could cultivate, he stepped around Ava Alvarez, still on the ground, and disappeared into the nearby private room as if she were nothing more than a misplaced handbag.Ava knelt slowly, her trembling hands reaching for the scattered items Rachel had so carelessly stuffed into the gift box. The embarrassment crept up her spine like ice. She hadn’t even unwrapped the gift, let alone imagined its contents tumbling across polished marble for the world to see.Just as she reached for one of the smaller items—a sleek, suggestively shaped accessory—she heard Alexander Vanderbilt’s voice, cold and commanding.“Hugo, go inside.”Hugo’s chuckle was low and teasing as he passed them. “Oh boy, someone’s in for it now.”Now only Ava and Alexander remained in the corridor, the air heavy with unsaid words. One of the items had landed near Alexander's polished leather shoe, and
Meanwhile, Alexander had just touched down on foreign soil. The sleek wheels of the private jet had barely cooled before he was ushered into a waiting car—Victoria trailing a few steps behind.The sun was beginning to dip below the skyline, casting a golden hue over the glass buildings around them. But the warmth of the city didn’t seem to reach Victoria’s mood.The auction had been a disappointment.Those who had flown in from all over the world had come chasing one thing—a rumored masterpiece by the elusive Master Remington. The buzz had been relentless, the anticipation feverish. Collectors, curators, and connoisseurs all gathered under one roof, poised to outbid one another for a chance at owning a piece of immortality.But the pièce de résistance had never arrived.Instead, the organizers had presented a different set of paintings—fine works, certainly, but none carrying the master’s signature. Whispers swirled through the crowd: the Remington piece had already been given away. P
Ava had just stepped out of the shower, the steam still curling around her from the bathroom. Wrapped in soft pajamas and with her damp hair towel-dried and tousled, she was about to unwind for the evening when a message lit up her phone.It was from the property management office:“Dear resident, we’ve prepared a small gift for you. Please collect it in the underground garage.”It wasn’t unusual in this kind of upscale community. Services like this—holiday gifts, complimentary deliveries—were standard perks. She assumed it was another seasonal gesture and didn’t think much of it.She threw on a light cardigan over her pajamas and slipped into house slippers. There was no need to dress up just to walk through her own building. The community was secure, and the garage private—no one would bat an eye.The garage, however, was packed.Dimly lit rows of polished luxury vehicles stretched in every direction. She stepped carefully between them, the click of her slippers echoing softly. As s
Alexander sat at his sleek glass desk, a shaft of afternoon light slanting across the surface. His fingers moved with precision as he reviewed the final pages of a thick document. With a quiet finality, he pushed the folder forward.Jonathan, ever efficient, stepped forward to take it, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment. As he turned to leave, the door opened and another figure appeared.Victoria.She stopped short, clearly startled to find Alexander at the office today—especially considering he had been at the hotel earlier. And it was Saturday.Recovering quickly, she walked in with her usual grace, her heels tapping softly against the polished floor."Alexander," she began, her tone casual but calculated, "news just came in from Spain. Master Remington’s painting is officially going up for auction. Everyone’s flying in for it this week—even Colton’s confirmed his attendance. When are you planning to leave?"She studied his face as she spoke, carefully watching for a flicker
Ava shot upright in bed, her heart thudding as her eyes scanned the breaking news headlines on her phone.Ryan Kuzmin Detained in International Crime Probe—PW Group Offices Raided.Details unfolded line by line like a script in a legal thriller. Ryan had been arrested on suspicion of overseas criminal activity. That morning, the authorities had swept through PW Group’s towering headquarters, raiding offices and seizing documents. The scandal was larger than anyone had anticipated.Further investigations revealed damning evidence: years of tax evasion, vast embezzlement schemes, and a tightly knit circle of executives siphoning company funds for personal gain.The outcome was swift—and brutal.PW Group had been slammed with devastating penalties. Their bank accounts frozen. Assets forcibly liquidated. Half their senior executives were already behind bars.And Ryan? He now faced the terrifying possibility of a twenty-year prison sentence.All of it—undeniably—was Alexander’s doing.With
Ava was completely drained. Every inch of her body ached as if she’d been taken apart and reassembled—twice.Alexander Vanderbilt, she thought bitterly, was not someone an ordinary woman could keep up with.She was still lying in bed, limbs heavy and muscles sore, when her phone lit up. The name Rachel flashed on the screen.Ava groaned internally but forced herself upright and answered the call."Ava! I brought something up for you—I’m downstairs and on my way up!" Rachel's cheerful voice burst through the speaker.Snapping out of her haze, Ava quickly sprang to her feet and checked her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She smoothed her dress, adjusted her hair, and ensured nothing about her appearance betrayed her disheveled morning. With a small breath of relief, she stepped back just as the doorbell rang.She hurried over and pulled open the door.Rachel stood there glowing in high-waisted designer jeans and a black camisole with delicate lace sleeves hugging her arms. Her outfit
Alexander rose from his chair and made his way toward the bedroom.The room was a blend of understated elegance and quiet opulence—decorated with muted colors, gilded moldings, and a custom-made European-style bed that looked as though it belonged in a palace. A long row of mahogany cabinets lined one wall, their polished surfaces gleaming under the soft light.An air of subtle luxury hung over everything, understated yet unmistakable.Alexander opened one of the cabinet doors. The scent of expensive wood polish and crisp linen filled the space. Neatly arranged inside were rows of impeccably pressed suits—his armor for the world outside.But tucked beneath them, nearly hidden among the shadows, sat a beautiful woman.Ava.She was curled up against the side of the closet, her knees drawn tightly to her chest, wrapped in nothing but his oversized white shirt. Her bare feet were tucked under her, her shoes hastily kicked somewhere under the bed in her rush to hide.For a long moment, nei
Alexander leaned in, brushing his lips against Ava’s earlobe—a whisper of a kiss, soft and lingering like a lover’s secret murmur.Ava stiffened slightly, unaccustomed to this kind of closeness.In truth, she had never been this intimately connected with anyone before. The sensation of his warm breath against her sensitive skin felt almost foreign, startling.Despite her naturally cool and reserved demeanor, her body betrayed her easily. A soft pink hue blossomed across her cheeks, spreading down her neck, making her look even more delicate under the sunlight.Without daring to meet his gaze, Ava slipped away, heading toward the bathroom, still dressed in his oversized white shirt.Alexander watched her go, his dark eyes trailing her graceful movements. He never would have imagined that his stiff, formal shirt could look so sinfully beautiful draped over a woman’s body.She was the very picture of effortless allure—elegant, yet undeniably tempting.Inside the bathroom, Ava quickly spo
Ava rushed out of the hospital, her heels clicking against the pavement as she hurried to her car. Once inside, she started the engine with shaking fingers and glanced at her phone. Her heart dropped. The roads were packed—an evening traffic jam clogging the city like a pulse grinding to a halt.Her fingers clenched the steering wheel, frustration bubbling up. She honked the horn more times than she could count, each one sharper than the last. A twenty-minute drive had now turned into a maddening forty-minute crawl.Alexander had given her exactly one hour.With every passing minute, her heart beat faster, the pressure building like a kettle about to boil over.And then—bang.Her car lurched forward. She’d been rear-ended. The sudden jolt slammed her head into the steering wheel, sending a flash of pain through her skull. Her eyes stung with tears, but she blinked them away, biting down on her panic. The driver behind her got out, waving his arms and pulling out his phone to call the