I stared down at the shattered pieces of glass and ceramic on the floor, my chest tightening in panic. I didn't even know how it happened. One moment, I was excitedly exploring the room, and the next, my elbow hit the pedestal, sending the beautiful sculpture of a woman holding a baby crashing to the ground.
My hands trembled as I crouched down, trying to gather the pieces without cutting myself. What would I say to him when he came back? What would he do to me? I hadn't known him for a long time, but I knew he wasn't the kind of person to mess with. He even made that clear when he left earlier. And I didn't listen. Now look at the terrible mess I put myself in. I bit my lip to suck in the whimper as the glass piece cut through my finger. Tiny beads of blood began to form at the tip.
I stood up to wipe it and stop the bleeding when suddenly the door flew open. It was him.
My mouth fell wide open as his eyes swept around the room, down to the mess on the floor before returning to me.
"What," he began, his voice low and dangerous, "did you do?"
I swallowed my spit to moisten the dryness in my throat.
"It was an accident… I didn't mean to."
He stepped inside, slowly and deliberately, like a ticking time bomb. "That sculpture was one of a kind. Do you have any idea what you have done?"
"I'm sorry…" I muttered, my voice shaking.
"Sorry?" He repeated, his tone laced with mockery. "Does that make a difference?"
I looked down, feeling frustrated and ashamed of myself. "It's not like I did it on purpose…"
He stopped in front of me, towering over me. His expression was cold, and his eyes blazed with fury. "You shouldn't have done it. You shouldn't have breathed near here in the first place," he hissed. "I think I have been too lenient with you, and you're taking it for granted. Anyone there?"
Lenient? Before I could even process what he meant, two guards in security attire entered the room. Alexander didn't move; he didn't take his eyes off me. Then, out of nowhere, he said, "Take her to the basement."
My eyes widened. Basement? What? No.
But no matter how much I tried to free myself from them, I couldn't. Their grip was so strong. They dragged me down the stairs without pity, even when I was screaming and crying for them to let me go. They didn't. And before I knew it, they threw me into the darkness and locked the door.
"No… please wait… don't leave me here…" I cried in panic, yet they never came back. No one came.
****
"It's been two days since you've been like this. Aren't you going to tell me what happened?" Linda complained, walking closer to the table with a tray of teaware in her hands.
"I brought Jasmine tea for you; it will help you relax and soften your mood." She set the tray on the table and started brewing the tea.
"I don't think it will," Alexander said. "You should know something like this doesn't work for me." At least not even now. He hadn't been himself since Anna broke the sculpture in his room. He had hoped spending some time with Linda would help distract him from the frustration.
That sculpture meant everything to him. It was frustrating that he couldn't replace it; the original craftsman was dead.
Sad that it was the only thing he had left of his mother, something he had protected all his life even after being thrown out of Ford's property. He had hidden it in the chapel for safekeeping, only for it to be broken in his own home.
"Just try this one, Alex… It will really work…" Linda strode toward him and put her arms around his neck as she pressed her body close to him. "Or maybe you can skip that… I will make you feel good tonight. It has been a while. You need to vent out your emotions." She leaned in, trying to kiss his cheek, but he moved his head away slightly, giving her a side glare.
She should know the rules: he wouldn't do anything affectionate with her, and he didn't like to be kissed. He hated that gesture to the core.
They had known each other since his days on the street. He was fourteen, and Linda was a twelve-year-old orphan. She had helped him through tough times and made many sacrifices for him.
But their bond never evolved beyond friendship; what they had was rooted in sexual desire and comfort. For him, he started doing this with Linda for only one reason: he needed to vent out his desire. He had made that clear to her from the very beginning because he didn't want any affectionate bond with anyone.
Linda pulled away from him and went to sit down in the chair facing him. Alexander could see the hurt and sadness in her eyes.
"You know I'm just trying to help," she said quietly.
"I know. I am not in the mood, Linda."
"Always. It has been a long while since we last saw each other… But it's okay, just drink the tea and have some rest. I won't disturb you again." She slowly pushed the tray toward him.
Alexander just stared at her, unsure of what to say to her. She was getting it wrong. He wasn't rejecting her; his emotions right now weren't meant to be vented. They would die down naturally, and he would come around.
Before he could think further, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and answered the call.
"Good evening, boss," Ethan greeted. From the slight panic in his voice, Alexander could tell something was wrong.
"What is it?" he asked. The phone was on speaker, so Linda could hear him clearly.
"Your wife has fainted in the basement."
Alexander furrowed his brows.
"She might not make it past tonight if she's not treated."
"You have a wife?! When? How?" Linda's face went pale as she stared at him with wide eyes.
"Take her out and call the doctor for her," he said and ended the call, which even surprised Linda the most.
"You're not going to answer me? Who is your wife?"
"She's not important. She is George Steele's daughter," he simply replied.
Linda's face hardened.
"Claudia… Your fiancée?" The words came out bitterly from her mouth.
"No… her sister."
"George has another daughter?" she asked, surprised.
"Yes."
Linda seemed to think for a while before nodding her head.
"You married her to get revenge on her father, didn't you? If that's true, then why do you care if she fainted?"
Death would be too easy on her, he hadn't even started, he wanted to say, but instead, he exhaled sharply. He didn't want to discuss that at the moment. So he stood up without drinking the tea and turned toward the door.
Linda's brows furrowed. "Where are you going? We aren't done talking?" But he didn't stop.
"Just do your thing. I will send for the driver to come take you to your place." He pulled the door open and walked out.
Linda stared at the empty space Alexander had just left, and her fist clenched into a ball. A wife? Though she was Steele's daughter, a man Alexander harbored a deep hatred for since the beginning, that didn't change the fact that he made his daughter his wife. It made her blood boil. That woman wasn't supposed to. She should be the one bearing the title of his wife and not someone else.