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Chapter 04

Author: Mrs JM
last update publish date: 2026-07-18 19:41:49

My body went hot and cold. The thoughts racing through my head were the same ones clearly echoing through the room.

I knew that style of dress well. It was a seasonal set from a high-end boutique.

As it happened, I owned the exact same dress. The one bought as a matching pair to the outfit Alex was wearing right now.

Could Alex have bought two of the same sets and? My thoughts began to spiral into madness.

The tension in the VIP room, thick enough to cut with a knife. Suddenly evaporated as Alex flashed that winning smile of his.

With the effortless composure of a man who owned the room, he shut down the provocative questioning without missing a beat.

"We didn't come together," he said, his voice light and casual, shattering the wild speculations in an instant.

"We just happened to arrive at the lobby at the same time, so I suppose it looked like we were a pair."

Without even glancing at my cousins' prying eyes, Alex walked over to me.

He produced a fresh, long-stemmed red rose from inside his jacket, a tiny, practiced detail he always used to make me feel like the only woman in the world.

He handed it to me and pressed a warm, lingering kiss to my cheek.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Babe. That meeting really dragged on," he said, loud enough for the whole table to hear.

Seeing the performance, I could hear the sharp intake of jealous breaths from my cousins.

That was Alex. He knew exactly how to pedestalize me in public, making everyone believe that I was the center of his universe.

The warmth bled back into my chest, extinguishing the suspicions that had flared up in the lobby earlier.

Even my stepsister greeted me with her usual saccharine warmth. If she were really guilty, surely she couldn't be this relaxed.

But my peace didn't last long.

"Alex, I heard Zeena’s working at your firm now? Is that true?" Serly piped up, deliberately tossing a match into the silence.

My heart dropped into my stomach. I turned to Alex, demanding an explanation with my eyes, though I kept my voice steady to avoid sparking a scene.

"Is it? Why didn't you ever mention that to me?"

Alex arched a brow, his face a masterclass in natural confusion.

"Oh? I’m only hearing about this now myself," he replied, his tone so incredibly convincing I almost believed it.

"Wait, come on, Alex," Serly scoffed, her smirk widening.

"A CEO who doesn't know who’s on his own payroll? That’s rich. Or, maybe there’s something you’re hiding from Zoya?"

The direct hit left me breathless. Before the air could thicken, Zeena cut in with a light, breezy laugh.

"It’s no surprise Mr. Alex doesn't know, Serly," Zeena said, stepping into the spotlight with graceful poise.

"He’s the CEO. I’m just a low-level staffer in the marketing division who started last week. It’s not like a big boss gets involved in the hiring of a nobody like me, right, Alex?”

“Oh, sorry. I mean, Mr. Alex. You’re my boss now," she added, her tone playfully formal.

Logically, Zeena’s explanation made sense. A massive corporation obviously had an HR department to handle entry-level hires.

But my wife-instinct caught a phantom signal. When Zeena said "Mr. Alex", there was a flash in her eyes and a curve to her smile that didn't feel right.

It was an expression far too intimate for a mere subordinate to direct at her superior.

I snapped my head toward Alex to gauge his reaction. I caught the corner of his mouth twitch, a fraction of a second where a faint smile threatened to break through.

But with terrifying speed, he smoothed his expression back into a mask of cold, professional indifference.

Uneasy. The unsettling feeling crawled back into my mind, and my chest constricted.

My phone vibrated inside my clutch. With a subtle flick of my wrist, I glanced at the screen. Shane’s name again.

Shane: Don't fall for his bullshit, Zoya. They definitely arrived together tonight. My source saw them leaving the same hotel downtown an hour ago. Open your eyes!

I choked on my own breath. But my ego and my terror rebelled.

I retreated into the sanctuary of denial. I wasn't ready, maybe I’d never be ready, to accept the bitter truth.

What would happen if my "perfect" marriage crumbled?

What about my reputation as a powerhouse career woman, the one who inspired thousands with her tales of marital bliss?

If the public found out my husband was a cheat, everything I’d clawed my way up to achieve would collapse into a punchline.

No! Shane was lying. He was just trying to poison my happiness.

My appetite vanished. As dinner wore on, I just pushed the food around my plate, my nerves frayed.

My suspicion morphed into a fever dream. I noticed Zeena, sitting a few chairs down, stealing glances at Alex every few minutes.

Then, out of nowhere, a sharp clack echoed under the long table.

"Oh, heavens! So sorry!" Zeena gasped, her face flushing crimson with embarrassment.

I looked down. One of Zeena’s bright red high heels had somehow slipped off and skittered across the floor, landing right under Alex’s chair.

My blood thrummed, bracing for my husband's reaction. But my fear went unfounded.

Alex was ice-cold, utterly indifferent. He didn't even shift his body to retrieve it. Instead, he signaled a waiter nearby.

"Please grab that shoe under my chair and return it to the lady over there," he ordered, his tone flat, never even sparing Zeena a glance.

Seeing Alex’s detachment, I exhaled a long breath of relief. Thank God, my husband clearly had zero interest in my stepsister.

Even though Zeena was the daughter of my stepmother, we’d always had a decent relationship. She was a pleasant girl. Good at winning people over, always sweet to me.

I convinced myself she would never have the guts to play with fire like that.

"My apologies, Zoya, Mr. Alex," Zeena said, sounding mortified as she slid her shoe back on.

"My foot was itching like crazy, and when I tried to scratch it with my other foot, the shoe just flew right off. I’m such a klutz."

I gave a polite, tight smile and nodded. I accepted her excuse just to keep my own sanity intact.

But that fake tranquility was shattered the moment dinner ended. As we prepared to leave, a new notification from Shane slammed into my defenses like a wrecking ball.

Shane: I know you’re too much of a coward to face the truth, Zoya. So, I’m challenging you. Meet me at the Savoy Hotel tomorrow night at nine.

Shane: I’ve got verified intel that Alex is meeting his mistress in room 404 tomorrow night.

Shane: Show up and see it for yourself, or keep living in this disgusting lie.

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