At the old mansion, Alex was a storm barely contained. The fury boiling inside him after the phone call was palpable—Emma, of all people, being blamed for his father's illness? His hands clenched the steering wheel the entire drive, and by the time he arrived, the tension rolling off him was enough to make every subordinate avoid his path like the plague.
The staff bowed low as he entered, their gazes fixed to the ground. No one dared speak. They all knew one wrong word could turn them into his next target.
Only one man had the courage to step forward.
"Welcome home, young master," said Frederick, his father's long-time assistant, bowing with practiced courtesy.
"Drop the pretense. Where is my father?" Alex snapped, his voice cold and clipped.
Before Frederick could answer, a softer, familiar voice spoke from behind.
"He's resting now, Alex. Please don't disturb him. Wait until he wakes up—you two might end up hurting each other otherwise. You know how your father's temper can be."
It was his mother.
Alex turned toward her, his anger momentarily disarmed. "Mother…" he sighed, pulling her into a hug. "I'm sorry for all the trouble. How is he?"
"He was just upset, that's all," she said gently, stroking his back. "But I think there's been a misunderstanding. Your secretary might not be to blame."
At the mention of "secretary," the storm threatened to return to Alex's eyes.
"You don't know her like I do," he muttered. "But what I don't get is… how could she possibly be the reason for his high blood pressure?"
"Let's not talk out here," she said, motioning him inside. "Come. Sit with me."
Inside, the house smelled like citrus and rosewood—his mother's usual scent. She headed into the kitchen and began washing some fresh fruit.
"You didn't have to do this, Mom," Alex said, watching her with concern. "You could've had one of the staff prepare something. Don't overwork yourself."
"Oh, hush. Am I not allowed to spoil my only son a little?" she teased, giving him a playful glare. "Don't make me mad, Alex."
He chuckled. "Sorry, Mom. You win."
He sat at the kitchen island, watching her. "Alright, now spill it. What happened between my father and Emma that got him so riled up?"
She placed the fruit bowl down before him and sighed. "I overheard your father on the phone with Mr. Blossom. Apparently, his daughter—Lucy—was assaulted at your office… by your secretary."
Alex blinked, then slowly leaned back with a smirk tugging at his lips. "Ah. So Lucy went sniffing around where she shouldn't have. If she tried to provoke Emma, well… that woman doesn't take insults lying down."
The smile lingered, unbidden.
"Alex…" his mother said, studying him. "What's with that smile? Who is this Emma, and why are you grinning like a schoolboy?"
"She's… my secretary. And despite everything, I honestly don't think she'd lift a finger unless someone really asked for it. Lucy's just a brat who's used to getting her way—she finally met her match."
"But Lucy is your fiancée, isn't she? Don't say such things."
Alex rolled his eyes. "Mom, not you too. What happened to my strong, no-nonsense mother? Who replaced you with this peacemaker?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I'm still me. But what if—just what if—you fall in love with this secretary of yours one day? Will you regret speaking about her this way?"
"Love?" he scoffed, the word bitter in his mouth. "I don't believe in that anymore. Not after… her. I'm just trying to protect whatever's left of me."
"I know, my son." Her voice was soft, motherly. "But don't shut yourself off completely."
She paused. "Are you staying for dinner?"
"I wish I could, but I have to head back. There's unfinished work waiting. If Father wakes up, tell him I'll handle things with Mr. Blossom personally."
She walked him out to his car, arms wrapped around him in one last hug.
"Take care, my son. And please, consider settling down. The other ladies at my dance class are already showing off pictures of grandchildren. Some even bring their daughters-in-law!"
He groaned playfully. "Mom…"
"I'm serious," she said, half-laughing, half-sighing. "And don't skip your meals either. You're not invincible."
"I hear you, Your Highness. Goodbye, Mom."
Once back in his car, Alex felt calmer. His mother's presence always had that effect on him. But the moment her voice faded into the background, his thoughts snapped back to Emma.
That woman. That damn woman.
He told himself it was just about putting her in her place. He told himself it was about control. But deep down, he already knew that wasn't the whole truth. The way she looked when flustered, the fire in her eyes when she stood up to him—it stirred something in him. Something inconvenient.
Still, he wouldn't let her get too comfortable.
He drove straight to the office, his mind made up. Most employees had left, and the building was quiet. Perfect.
As he passed her desk—empty and annoyingly neat—his irritation spiked.
He pulled out a key card from his wallet. It was for the apartment next to hers. After all, the building was his. He had his ways.
Driving to the apartment complex, his gaze briefly caught a shadow on the pavement—a figure that seemed oddly familiar.
No. It couldn't be.
She wouldn't dare return. Not after what she did to him.
He shook the thought off and parked, glancing at the building's sign: ALEXISA.
His stomach turned.
What a foolish name.
Flashback
"Baby, I've just bought a new apartment building. I need a name. Any ideas?"
"How about… ALEXISA?" she'd said, eyes twinkling. "It sounds sexy, don't you think?"
Alex grimaced at the memory.
Sexy? No. It sounded like betrayal now.