* FREE - Appreciation for Our Readers * Chapter 98 : You’re just like every other girl in New York, falling for that face, huh?

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’s behalf. But before she could dial, her phone rang again. Aunt Torres was on the line.

"Miss Morales, Mr. Vanderbilt Sr. sent another round of gifts to Le Châteauesque Manor," Aunt Torres informed her.

Ava let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. It didn’t take much to figure out the reason behind this.

The old man must have felt guilty for lashing out at Alexander and was now attempting to make it up to her in the only way he knew how—lavish gifts.

Though it was amusing, the situation was frustrating. If only he had sought the truth before punishing his grandson.

After ending the call, Ava abandoned the idea of speaking with the old man. If she brought up Alexander’s injuries, it might only raise suspicions about how she knew, and that would create an entirely different problem.

Instead, she turned to her laptop, scrolling through reviews for scar removal creams. Those wounds weren’t going to fade easily, and knowing Alexander, he wouldn’t take the time to treat them properly.

Finding the best-reviewed one, she placed an order and had it delivered to Alexander’s hotel.

---

That evening, a knock sounded on Alexander’s suite door. Assuming it was Jonathan, he opened it, only to find the hotel manager standing there.

"Mr. Vanderbilt, a delivery just arrived for you," the manager informed him, handing over a small bag.

Alexander took it and closed the door. He was about to check the sender’s name when another knock echoed through the room.

Expecting the manager again, he opened it—only to be met with Valentina.

She stood there in a thin, barely-there coat, her red cheeks flushed under the corridor lights.

"Mr. Vanderbilt," she purred, her voice laced with intention.

Alexander’s expression darkened instantly. His jaw tensed, and without hesitation, he reached for the door to shut it.

But Valentina pressed her palm against the frame, desperation creeping into her voice.

"The hotel manager let me up," she blurted out. "The ointment you received… You need someone to apply it for you, don’t you?"

Her gaze flickered toward the small package in his hands, mistaking it for something she had sent.

Alexander followed her eyes before scoffing under his breath. His grip on the package tightened as realization settled in.

Without a word, he tossed the bag toward her feet and slammed the door in her face.

"Get lost," he said coldly.

---

By early morning, Valentina had already stationed herself in the lobby, waiting for Alexander.

Sure enough, at precisely seven o’clock, he emerged from the suite, dressed sharply in a black suit, with Jonathan trailing closely behind.

Just as the elevator doors were about to slide shut, Valentina darted forward, wedging her hand between them.

"Mr. Vanderbilt," she said with a forced smile, stepping inside. "Heading to work?"

Alexander's expression remained unreadable, but his entire demeanor shifted to an icy detachment.

The air inside the elevator grew heavy.

Silence stretched between them, the only sound being the soft hum of the elevator.

Valentina swallowed, suddenly feeling suffocated by the weight of his presence. She had rehearsed several ways to approach him, but now, standing beside him, words failed her.

By the time the elevator reached the ground floor, her confidence had crumbled entirely.

Alexander exited without so much as a glance in her direction.

Sliding into the backseat of his car, he stared straight ahead, his brows furrowed in irritation.

But as they neared an intersection, his gaze unexpectedly softened.

On the sidewalk, Ava was walking Rex. 

Ava had gone to Le Châteauesque Manor earlier that morning to pick up Rex. Now that her business issues had been temporarily resolved, she had some time before heading to Charleston.

Squatting down, she reached out to pat Rex’s head, but before she could, the dog suddenly perked up—his tail wagging wildly.

Without warning, Rex bolted toward the curb, straight toward Alexander’s car.

Ava’s heart skipped a beat as she quickly tightened her grip on the leash.

"Rex!" she called, but the dog was already standing on its hind legs, paws resting against the car window, tongue lolling out excitedly.

The window was down just enough for Rex to shove his nose inside.

Alexander sighed as a few strands of white fur drifted onto his expensive suit. His brows knit together slightly, but instead of pushing the dog away, he simply rested his arm on the windowsill.

"Mr. Vanderbilt," Ava greeted him, slightly breathless from pulling Rex back.

She gave her dog a reprimanding look, but Rex was undeterred—his enthusiasm was almost embarrassing.

"Sorry," she said, cheeks warming. "I don’t know why he always gets so excited when he sees you."

Alexander tilted his head slightly.

"Has everything been resolved with the partners?" he asked, ignoring the dog hair now clinging to his sleeve.

Ava nodded. "Yes, it’s all sorted out."

"My aunt hasn’t come looking for you again?"

"No," she assured him. "Thank you, Mr. Vanderbilt. I owe you a lot for this. Let me treat you to a meal sometime."

Before Alexander could answer, Rex let out a series of excited barks, tail wagging furiously, as if urging him to agree.

A flicker of amusement crossed Alexander’s eyes.

"We’ll see," he said, his voice smooth.

Jonathan, sitting in the driver’s seat, glanced at the rearview mirror.

He had spent the entire morning dealing with Alexander’s tense, brooding silence. Now, after a mere two-minute exchange with Ava, his boss’s mood had noticeably improved.

As the car pulled away, Ava remained standing on the sidewalk, watching it disappear into the distance.

Finally, she crouched down and cupped Rex’s fluffy face.

"You’re unbelievable," she muttered.

The dog wagged his tail, completely unbothered.

Ava narrowed her eyes playfully. "You’re just like every other girl in New York, falling for that face, huh?"

Rex barked, as if in agreement.

Ava sighed, rubbing his head with a fond smile.

"I didn’t realize you were into appearances too." 

---

A few days later, they crossed paths again—funnily enough, at the exact same spot.

Having met twice, and with him helping her last time, Ava felt uneasy about owing him a favor. She hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Mr. Vanderbilt, I mentioned earlier that I wanted to treat you to a meal. I happened to be passing by and was about to call you. Are you free?"

The dim lighting where she sat cast a soft glow on her features. Her eyes, still damp from unshed tears, looked luminous—almost too transparent, as if they could be seen through with a single glance.

She had been crying. That much was obvious. But the moment she noticed his presence, she quickly concealed that fragility.

Was it work? Family? Alexander’s thoughts wandered.

Unbidden, the image of her husband surfaced in his mind. If it weren’t for the night he had picked her up, Alexander would never have associated that kind of man with her.

It wasn’t that Alexander looked down on ordinary people, but in his world, social status mattered.

Liam was a college graduate, an average-looking, low-ranking employee at a construction company. In contrast, Ava Alvarez was a rising star in New York’s design scene—a former top student of the prestigious Academy of Fine Arts. Just one project from her could earn millions.

In theory, a man like Liam should have no connection with a woman like Ava. And yet, she was his wife. A devoted one at that.

Alexander couldn't understand it.

Do women today no longer care about compatibility in marriage?

He didn't usually indulge in late-night meals. His strict routine and stomach condition prevented it. But this time, he responded without hesitation.

"What do you want to eat?"

Ava blinked, taken aback.

Under normal circumstances, Alexander would never eat this late. She had only extended the invitation to ease her own discomfort about their previous encounter, never expecting him to accept.

Now that he had, she didn’t know how to respond.

Eventually, they settled on a restaurant near the office building.

As Ava sat down, the reality of the situation hit her. Was she really having supper with Alexander Vanderbilt?

Across from her, he flipped through the menu, casually ordering for them both.

He had never been to a place like this before. In fact, he rarely dined out at all, especially with women.

Neither of them realized that this particular restaurant specialized in romantic dining experiences.

Only when a server arrived, scattering fresh rose petals onto their table, did Ava freeze...