Chapter 15

**Alexander**

I leaned back in Arthur Santini’s chair, making myself comfortable as if I already owned the place. In a way, I did. His empire was crumbling, his power slipping through his fingers, and all that was left was for him to acknowledge it. The leather creaked under my weight as I propped my feet up on his polished mahogany desk, exuding the kind of ease that only came when you knew you had already won.

Across from me, Arthur stood stiffly, his wrinkled hands clenched at his sides, trying to mask his fear with anger. 

It wasn’t working.

"Sign these documents," I said, sliding the crisp stack of papers across the desk toward him. 

His jaw tightened, and his knuckles whitened as he stared at the papers in front of him. His fingers twitched slightly, but he made no move to pick them up. His gaze stayed fixed on them, his brows furrowing as he briefly scanned the first page, 

His gaze lifted to mine, suspicion swirling in his ageing blue eyes. 

"What are these papers?".

I chuckled, shaking my head as if he had just asked the dumbest question in the world. 

"Nothing to worry that pretty little head of yours over, old man. Just sign."

Arthur exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping back to the papers. His fingers hovered over the edges before he finally picked them up, flipping to the next page.

The moment his eyes began to scan the words, I snatched them from his grasp, tearing them out of his fingers before he could read another sentence.

"I don’t remember telling you to read," I said smoothly, leaning forward, the edge in my voice razor-sharp. 

"I only asked—very politely, I might add—for your signature."

"Sign without reading? That's... that's not..." His words broke off, his voice raw with a mix of helpless rage and disbelief.

I let out a low chuckle, tossing the papers back in front of him. 

"Not what?" I drawled, tapping my fingers on the armrest of his chair. 

"Let’s keep this civil, shall we? You wouldn’t want to piss me off. Especially when your dear Alina is all alone with my men."

I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the desk, lowering my voice to something just above a whisper. 

"Let me paint you a picture, Arthur," I murmured. 

"Right now, your daughter is sitting in my car, no idea what’s coming next. She thinks you’ll come for her. That somehow, you’ll fix this mess you created. But we both know that’s not going to happen, don’t we?"

His lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t say a word.

"You had your chance to protect her," I continued, my tone deceptively soft. 

"But instead, you were ready to sell her—to him of all people." I scoffed, shaking my head. 

"Tell me, Arthur, what did you think was going to happen once Robert Solas got his hands on her? Did you imagine she’d have some charmed life? That he’d treat her well?"

A muscle twitched in his jaw. He knew. Of course, he fucking knew.

"You were willing to let your only daughter rot in a monster’s bed," I said, shaking my head in mock disappointment. 

"And yet, you call me the villain."

I leaned back again, resting my hands behind my head as I exhaled, utterly relaxed. 

"Now, here’s the deal, Arthur," I said, flicking my fingers toward the papers. 

"Sign them, and this all your debt goes away. No bloodshed. No unnecessary violence. You get to keep your pathetic little life, and Alina gets... well, let’s just say, she gets a better fate than the one you had planned for her."

Arthur’s hands trembled as he stared at the documents I slid across his desk. His eyes flickered between me and the pages.

"W-what about Robert?" he stammered his voice barely above a whisper. "What do I tell him?"

"He has no importance to me," I said coolly. "You made your bed—now sleep in it."

"But… but he’ll kill me."

I exhaled slowly as if considering his predicament. 

"Hmm... true," I mused, my tone almost amused. 

"He’s not exactly a forgiving man, is he? But that’s not my problem."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

"However," I continued, sliding the stack of documents a little closer, 

"if you sign these papers… well, let’s just say I’ll consider us even."

His eyes flickered over the papers and then darted back to mine.

"This…" His voice wavered as he skimmed the first few lines. 

"This is the deed to my house… my holiday homes…" He looked up at me, shaking his head slightly. 

"These properties—they don’t even come close to covering what I owe you."

I smirked. "I know."

Arthur’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk. "Then why…?"

I tilted my head, watching the slow unravelling of whatever composure he had left. 

"Because I’m in a generous mood," I said smoothly. 

"I’m willing to let the rest slide. Call it even."

"That doesn’t make sense. You don’t just... forgive debt."

"You’re right. I don’t. That’s why there’s one more thing you’ll be signing."

I tapped the last page in the stack.

Arthur hesitated before picking it up, scanning the first few lines. 

"This… this says I’m severing all legal ties with Alina. That she’ll no longer carry my last name. That I…" He trailed off, blinking in disbelief. 

"Why?"

I shrugged, watching him closely. "I don’t like loose ends."

"This isn’t about clearing a debt. You don’t want the houses. You don’t care about wiping my name from her life. You want her."

I chuckled, low and amused. "Now that is a loaded assumption, old man."

Arthur’s jaw clenched. "Why are you doing this?"

"You’re wasting time," I drawled. 

"Sign. Or I take the properties anyway—through far less polite means."

"You can’t just take them," he hissed. 

"They’re still legally mine—"

"For now," I cut in. 

"But let’s be honest, Arthur. If I want something, I take it. I don’t need your permission. I don’t need these papers. But having them?" I smirked. 

"Makes it cleaner. Now sign!"

Arthur’s hand hovered over the pen, his pulse hammering visibly in his throat. 

"You know," I said, my voice casual, almost bored, 

"Robert’s not exactly a patient man," I said, my tone almost lazy. 

"What do you think he’ll do if I happen to tell him you double-crossed him? That instead of delivering Alina as promised, you sold her off to me for a pathetic fraction of what she’s worth?" I let the words settle, watching as his face stiffened. 

"Because you thought… hmm, maybe I’d take better care of her than some old man who probably can’t even get it up?"

Arthur’s breath hitched.

He knew Robert. 

He knew how this would end. 

Good.

"He won’t believe you," he muttered, but there was no conviction in his words—only desperation.

"Maybe. But let’s be honest—he doesn’t trust you either. And if I put the idea in his head? That you played him? That you made a deal behind his back?*" I leaned forward slightly, watching as a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. 

"Well… let’s just say I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when that conversation happens."

Arthur swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. 

I let the silence stretch for a beat before offering him the only lifeline he had left.

"Sign the papers, and I’ll make sure Robert doesn’t touch you. For now."

His hand trembled as he reached for the pen.

Then, in stiff, jerking strokes, he scrawled his signature across every single page.

I smiled.

"See?" I said, plucking the papers from his desk, scanning them with satisfaction before tucking them neatly into my jacket. 

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

Arthur lifted his gaze, hatred burning through his fear now.

"You’re a monster," he seethed.

I grinned. "That’s what they tell me."

Adjusting my cuffs, I stood, sliding my chair back effortlessly.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Arthur."

And with that, I turned and walked out of his house, knowing I had just taken everything from him.