Chapter 12 NO STRINGS ATTACHED
Alexander.
"I always have the best time with you, Alex" Roxy's voice was honey smooth as she adjusted her dress, the black silk clinging to her curves as she checked her reflection in my bedroom mirror.
"Mm."I murmured, pulling on a clean shirt, my back to her.
She turned, came closer rubbing my back, a practiced smile still on her lips. "Same time next week?"
"I'll let you know."
I turned to her, pulling out my phone, opened my banking app, and made a transfer to her as usual, Her phone buzzed a second later.
But her smile faltered.
"Alex." Her tone shifted with annoyance now, "You know, you don't have to keep doing this."
"It's our agreement Roxy, and you know I always keep to agreement."
"But I'm not a prostitute." She crossed her arms, something like hurt flashing in her eyes. "You don't have to pay me every time we're together. I'm not some... transaction."
I scoffed, "Aren't you?"
She flinched.
I buttoned the last button on my shirt, "This is what we agreed on, Roxy. No strings attached and definitely no expectations. I pay you for your time, and we both walk away satisfied. That's the arrangement."
"But things have changed." She stepped closer, her hand reaching for my arm, I raised a brow. "I've changed. I don't need your money anymore. I just... I want to be with you. Can't we—"
I pulled away in disgust.
"No."
"Alex—"
"I don't do relationships." My jaw tightened. "I thought I made that clear from the beginning. It's sex only. That's it. If you're developing feelings, then we'll stop. Right now."
Her face flushed, anger mixing with embarrassment. "You're such a bastard."
I scoffed
"I know." I said nonchalantly, she's such a nuisance. "You can let yourself out now."
"But I'm not done talking—"
"Yes, you are." I moved past her toward the door, not bothering to look back. "I'll call you when I need you. Until then, don't contact me."
"Alex you can't just—"
"I can. And I am, so don't make this complicated, Roxy. We had an agreement." I gestured for her to leave already, holding the door open.
For a moment, something flickered across her face, hurt, rejection, anger all tangled together.
But who cares, after all I warned her from the beginning.
She nodded and lifted her chin, grabbing her purse from the side table, and stalked toward the door.
"You're going to regret this," she said quietly as she passed me.
I grabbed her immediately by her arm, pulling her close to me, glaring daggers at her.
"Don't ever threaten me." I warned her coldly.
She flinched with wide eyes.
Good, that fear should be enough warning to her.
She snatched her arm out of my grip and stormed off without another word, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.
I waited until I heard the elevator doors close before exhaling slowly.
Everything was getting too damn complicated, why the hell is she suddenly asking for more.
............
I found Walter in my study, reviewing some documents on his tablet.
"She's gone?" he asked without looking up.
"Yeah." I poured myself a neat scotch, and dropped into the chair behind my desk. "How's the cleanup going?"
Walter set down the tablet, adjusting his glasses. "The leaked photos has been completely scrubbed from the internet. Our tech team worked throughout the night. They've erased every copy, every backup and every cached version. It no longer exists online."
"Good." I took a sip, letting the burn settle in my chest. "And the Williams family?"
His expression darkened. "That's... more complicated."
I raised an eyebrow. "How?"
"Malcolm Williams will officially be named heir to Williams Corp by next week. There'll be a public announcement and press release. Dandelion has been completely written out of her mother's will."
I leaned back, a slow smirk spreading across my face. "They're so predictable."
Walter studied me for a moment. "Will you help Miss Williams reclaim the company?"
"Not unless she asks." I set down my glass with a decisive clink. "I don't run a charity, Walter. I offered her a deal, revenge in exchange for playing my wife. If she wants my help taking down her family, she needs to ask for it. Otherwise, it's not my problem."
"She has pride."
"I noticed."
"She might not ask."
"Then she'll lose." I stood, straightening my jacket. "I'm going out."
Walter frowned. "Where?"
"Meeting Nicholas and Xavier. I need to inform them about their new role as wedding witnesses."
"Ah." He almost smiled. "That should be entertaining."
"More like, torture." I muttered heading for the door.
...........
The bar was dimly lit and exclusive
the kind of place where privacy was guaranteed and the scotch cost more than most people's rent.
Nicholas was already there, sprawled in a leather booth with a drink in hand and his signature lazy grin. Xavier sat across from him, stiff and uninterested as always, nursing a glass of wine like it personally offended him.
"Alexander!" Nicholas raised his glass in mock salute. "To what do we owe this rare honor?"
I slid into the booth beside him. "I need a favor."
Xavier's eyes narrowed. "What kind of favor?"
"The kind that involves you both showing up to a courthouse in four days and pretending to be supportive friends."
Nicholas blinked. "A courthouse?"
"I'm getting married."
Dead silence.
Then Nicholas howled with laughter, nearly spilling his drink. "You, married?! Oh my God, this is the best day of my life!"
Xavier just stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "You're joking."
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"No," he admitted slowly. "Which is even more disturbing."
Nicholas was still laughing, clutching his stomach. "Who is she? Did you knock someone up? Is it Roxy? Please tell me it's not Roxy—"
"It's not Roxy." I flagged down the bartender for a drink. "It's a contract marriage. For my Noona."
That sobered Nicholas up. "Grandma wini?"
I sighed in frustration.
"She's threatening to refuse treatment until I'm married. Her birthday is coming soon, and she wants me settled before she turns seventy." I collected the scotch from the bartender with a nod. "So I found someone willing to play along."
Xavier leaned forward, more interested now. "Who?"
"Dandelion Williams."
Nicholas choked on his drink. "What!The actress? The one in the scandal?"
"The same."
"Jesus Christ, Alex." Xavier rubbed his temples. "You sure know how to pick them."
"It's strategic." I took a sip. "She needs protection and revenge. I need a wife my grandmother won't immediately see through. It's mutually beneficial."
Nicholas was grinning again. "This is insane. I love it. When's the wedding?"
"In four days. A private courthouse ceremony. You'll both be witnesses."
Xavier's expression darkened. "And when your grandmother finds out it's fake?"
"She won't." I met his gaze evenly.
"That's where you both come in. We'll do photos, create a paper trail, make it look legitimate. Noona might be suspicious, but she's not omniscient."
"She's close enough," Nicholas muttered.
"Which is why you're helping." I set down my glass. "I need this to look as real as possible."
Xavier sighed heavily. "If she finds out we were accomplice..."
"Are you afraid she'll scold you?." I smirked.
"It'll be endless. And Her blood pressure will spike."
"Exactly." Xavier glared. "And I'm not interested in being responsible for that."
"Too bad." I leaned back. "You're both involved now."
Nicholas became quiet for a while then clapped Xavier on the shoulder. "Come on, man. It'll be fun. When's the last time we went to a fake wedding?"
"Never," Xavier said flatly. "Because normal people don't have fake weddings."
"We're not normal people." Nicholas grinned. "We're rich, bored, and morally flexible. This is exactly our brand of entertainment."
Xavier looked at me, and sighed. "You're really doing this?"
"I am."
"And Miss Williams, she agreed?"
"She did."
He was quiet for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "Fine. I'll be your witness. But if your grandmother asks me directly if this is real, I'm not lying to her."
"Fair enough." I raised my glass. "To accomplishing the perfect contract marriage."
Nicholas clinked his glass against mine enthusiastically. "Hell yes! I can't wait to meet this mystery fake bride."
I smirked.
Xavier reluctantly joined the toast, though his expression remained skeptical. "This is going to end badly."
"Probably," I agreed.
But as we drank, I couldn't shake the image of Dandelion's face when I'd told her I didn't know anyone still cared about her.
The
way her jaw had tightened.
The way she'd walked away without looking back.
Maybe Xavier was right.
Maybe this would end badly.
But I'd already signed the contract.
And Alexander Graham never breaks his word.