Chapter 5

‎‎Alice’s POV

‎I was halfway through reviewing a contract when my office door burst open, slamming against the wall.

‎I flinched, my pen slipping from my fingers.

‎“Alice Smith,” a sharp female voice rang out, dripping with mock amusement. “You really do have some guts.”

‎A tall blonde woman strode into my office like she owned it. My secretary hurried in behind her, breathless.

‎“Ma’am, I tried to stop her...."

‎“It’s fine,” I said, even though my heart was already pounding. “You can go back to work.”

‎The door clicked shut, leaving the stranger and me alone.

‎I leaned back slowly, forcing calm into my posture.

‎“Good day. And who are you?”

‎She folded her arms, her gaze sweeping over me with open contempt.

‎“You don’t need to know me. Just stay away from my man.”

‎Confusion flickered through me. “What man? I’m not with anybody’s man.”

‎She laughed....loud, mocking, certain.

‎“You think you can fool me?”

‎Something about the certainty in her voice made my chest tighten. Still, irritation rose to the surface first.

‎“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Explain yourself, or I’ll call security. You can’t barge into my office and start throwing accusations. You’re embarrassing yourself… and you’re embarrassing me. And I hate to be embarrassed.”

‎She smiled wider, like she was enjoying this.

‎“Alice,” she said, her tone dropping into a warning, “stay away from my man. Consider this your only warning.”

‎Then she walked out and slammed the door.

‎The sound echoed in the room long after she left.

‎Silence pressed in.

‎I stared at the door, my jaw tight.

‎“What nerve,” I muttered.

‎“What audacity.”

‎But the anger didn’t sit cleanly in my chest.

‎It tangled with something else.

‎Something heavier.

‎I exhaled slowly and pressed my fingers to my temple.

‎Why did that feel so personal?

‎Why did it sting?

‎Her face lingered in my mind.

‎Familiar.

‎Too familiar.

‎I leaned forward, frowning.

‎“No… it can’t be.”

‎Then it clicked.

‎My eyes widened.

‎“Amelia Coke. The celebrity actress.”

‎I let out a disbelieving laugh, but it sounded hollow even to my own ears.

‎“No way. Her man? What would I be doing with her man?”

‎Yet unease crawled under my skin.

‎My hand moved to my phone almost on its own. I opened social media and scrolled.

‎Then I froze.

‎There it was.

‎A picture of Amelia and Victor.

‎They stood close, smiling at each other like they shared something private… something real.

‎My stomach twisted.

‎For a moment, I just stared.

‎A strange ache spread through my

‎chest...sharp and unwelcome.

‎Of course Victor had women.

‎I knew that.

‎Everyone knew that.

‎So why did seeing it… hurt?

‎I swallowed hard.

‎Why did it feel like I had just been humiliated over something I didn’t even choose?

‎Why did it feel like I had been dragged into a drama I never asked for?

‎Why did it feel like he had allowed this to happen to me?

‎“Oh no,” I whispered.

‎Understanding settled in slowly.

‎“Victor did this.”

‎My grip tightened on the phone.

‎“Victor caused me this embarrassment.”

‎But beneath the anger was something softer.

‎Something I didn’t want to name.

‎A quiet sting.

‎A bruised pride.

‎And, annoyingly… a flicker of disappointment.

‎I scoffed at myself and quickly shoved the feeling down.

‎Why should I care?

‎He wasn’t mine.

‎I didn’t even want this marriage.

‎Still… being publicly mistaken for the other woman didn’t feel good.

‎Not at all.

‎I locked my phone and leaned back, forcing my expression into something cool, controlled.

‎Slowly… a smile spread across my face.

‎Not a happy one.

‎A strategic one.

‎“Well,” I murmured, folding my hands on the desk, “I just might have found exactly what I need to change my father’s mind about this whole marriage.”

‎

‎I walked through the quiet house, my heart heavier with every step, until I found Dad in his study. Papers were spread across his desk, his glasses low on his nose as always.

‎“Hi, Dad.”

‎He looked up immediately, his face softening.

‎“How are you, my little pod?”

‎Despite everything, I smiled faintly at the nickname. It always made me feel five years old again.

‎“I was fine this morning,” I said, closing the door behind me, “but I’m not so sure now.”

‎His brows knitted together as he leaned back in his chair.

‎“What happened?”

‎I hesitated, rubbing my palms together.

‎“Dad… you won’t believe who came to my office today.”

‎“Who?”

‎“Amelia Coke. The celebrity actress.”

‎Recognition flashed across his face and he nodded.

‎“Oh, I know her. You made me watch some of her movies.” He gave a small amused huff. “Well, what did she want?”

‎I swallowed.

‎“She came to warn me to leave her man.”

‎Dad straightened slowly.

‎“Which man is she talking about?”

‎I stared at him, searching his face.

‎“Dad… who do you think she’s talking about?”

‎“I don’t know, Alice. You tell me.”

‎I exhaled shakily and pulled out my phone.

‎“Well… I asked her, but she refused to explain. She was so upset. She just stormed out of my office.”

‎My fingers trembled slightly as I unlocked the screen.

‎“Then I remembered something. I once stumbled on a picture while scrolling through social media. I saved it.”

‎I stepped closer and handed him the phone.

‎“Let me show you.”

‎“Okay.”

‎He adjusted his glasses and looked down. The photo showed Victor and Amelia standing close, smiling at each other like they shared some private joke.

‎“Dad…” My voice came out softer now. “Don’t they look so happy together?”

‎He handed the phone back slowly, confusion lining his face.

‎“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, Alice.”

‎I felt my chest tighten.

‎“All I’m saying is… Victor and Amelia look happy together. So I don’t understand why Victor is so determined to marry me.”

‎Dad’s expression hardened slightly, the warmth leaving his eyes.

‎“Alice, we’ve already talked about this. Victor wants to honour his father’s last wish, and so do I.” His voice turned firm. “Besides, the marriage is already a done deal.”

‎A cold wave ran through me.

‎“Dad… what do you mean?”

‎“I mean,” he said, folding his hands on the desk, “I already gave Victor the go-ahead to start preparations.”

‎My breath caught.

‎“He even asked about your inheritance,” Dad continued, as if discussing something ordinary. “And I plan on handing everything over to him. He’s going to be your husband soon.”

‎“Dad, no!” I stepped forward quickly, panic rising in my throat. “Don’t give my inheritance to him. I think… I think that’s what he truly wants.”

‎He tilted his head, studying me.

‎“Really?”

‎“Yes, Dad.” My voice shook now. “Think about it. Why rush the marriage? Why ask about my inheritance already?”

‎Dad’s face closed off completely.

‎“Alice,” he said, his tone final, leaving no room for argument, “there’s nothing to think about. You are marrying Victor. And that is final.”

‎The words landed like a door slamming shut.

‎I stood there, frozen, my fingers tightening around my phone as a knot formed in my chest.

‎

‎After talking to my father and realizing his decision wasn’t going to change, frustration burned low in my chest like trapped smoke.

‎That left only one person.

‎Victor.

‎I stared at my phone for a long moment, my thumb hovering over his name. Calling him felt like stepping into a cage and locking it myself.

‎But I pressed dial anyway.

‎He answered almost immediately.

‎“Hello, Victor. Alice speaking,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.

‎A soft hum came from the other end, slow and knowing.

‎“Hmmm… my little Allie.”

‎The nickname slid over me like warm poison. My cheeks heated instantly, and I hated that reaction.

‎“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, gripping the phone tighter. “Anyways, we need to talk. Let’s meet at Fine Diner Restaurant near my place. Five p.m.”

‎Silence.

‎Not empty silence. The kind that feels like someone is studying you.

‎Then he spoke again, voice lower now.

‎“Little Allie… are you asking me out on a date?”

‎My jaw tightened. “No. Not a date. A talk, Victor. We need to talk.”

‎“At a dinner place,” he repeated, amusement curling in his tone. “You always did like dramatic settings.”

‎I exhaled sharply. “Victor....."

‎“Alright,” he cut in smoothly. “Five p.m.”

‎Relief barely had time to touch me before he added, softer… almost possessive:

‎“And little Allie… wear yellow.”

‎I frowned. “What....”

‎“You’ve always looked good in yellow,” he continued, voice dipping into something darker. “Soft. Bright. Easy to spot in a crowd.”

‎A chill ran down my spine.

‎Easy to spot.

‎Before I could respond, the line clicked dead.

‎I lowered the phone slowly, my heartbeat louder than the quiet room around me.

‎This is going to be harder than I thought.

‎You’ve always looked good in yellow.

‎The words replayed in my head, tangled between warmth and warning. Butterflies stirred in my stomach, but they weren’t gentle anymore. They felt sharp. Dangerous.

‎Why does he remember things like that?

‎I pressed a hand to my stomach, annoyed at my own reaction.

‎This is not how I’m supposed to feel.

‎Victor isn’t just a man from my past anymore.

‎He’s calculated. Controlled. And far too confident for someone walking into a forced marriage.

‎Which means he wants something.

‎And I need to know what it is.

‎Only then can I find leverage.

‎I refuse to enter this marriage blindly.

‎I need weapons.

‎Not knives. Not guns.

‎Secrets. Weaknesses. Truth.

‎Something that can shake Victor the way he keeps unsettling me.

‎But how do I find those weapons?

‎My eyes dropped back to my phone.

‎Maybe… I don’t start by fighting him.

‎Maybe I start by letting him think I’m soft-hearted.

‎And then I watch.

‎