Chapter 77
Elizabeth's POV
Aiden's gaze flickered with a hint of unease. "Elizabeth, what I mean is, I want what's best for you."
He continued his explanation, his tone desperate, as if pleading for me to believe him.
I watched his almost theatrical display of solicitude and couldn't suppress a cold scoff. "Are you finished?"
Aiden was visibly taken aback, clearly not expecting such an indifferent response. He pressed on, emphasizing his point. "Elizabeth, you want your family's company back, don't you?"
An involuntary eye roll was my only answer. It was true that when my family's accident first happened, I had naively hoped that Aiden, as my fiancé, would stand up for me. Even just preserving a small fraction of the company would have been a statement, a sign that he cared.
But what had he done? He had completely disregarded my feelings, even pretending not to see when the Smiths mocked me. While he hadn't joined in their ridicule, his silent indifference had wounded me just as deeply. For him to stand before me now, after all that had transpired, and utter these laughably belated words was an insult.
"I'm sorry, Aiden, but I have absolutely no interest in anything you're offering."
His eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn't process that those words had come from my mouth.
"You're joking, right?" He asked, a stunned expression on his face, as if it were a given that I should still care about these things.
Reading his expression, I simply turned and signaled to the server. "Could I get this to go, please?" At this point, there was no reason to waste another moment on him.
"I've given you the chance to say what you wanted to say," I stated, my voice flat. "Please don't bother me again."
Alexander had entrusted a project to me, and completing it was now my highest priority. Everything else could wait for the right time and opportunity.
Seeing that I was serious about leaving, Aiden shot up from his chair and hurried forward, grabbing my hand. "Don't go. We're not finished talking."
This time, I didn't even grant him a glance. He followed me out, and when he realized his attempts to block my path were futile, he stopped abruptly. His gaze turned dark as he stared at my back. "This isn't over, Elizabeth," he called out. "You rejected me today. Next time, I won't give you any chance to escape."
I turned back to face him, the coldness in my eyes undisguised.
Of course, it wasn't over. I hadn't gotten my revenge yet; I hadn't made him lose everything. But first, I needed to prepare, to wait until his guard was down, to ensure my strike would be decisive.
Upstairs, finally free from Aiden's entanglement, I tried to immerse myself back in my work. My phone buzzed with an incoming message. It was from Alexander. I tapped it open, and my breath caught in my throat.
A single line was starkly displayed on the screen: [You met with Aiden?]
The encounter had just happened right downstairs; it would have been effortless for Alexander to find out. But why would he suddenly bring it up? And even if I had spoken with Aiden, why would he possibly care?
I bit my lip, hesitating for a long moment before typing a reply. [Yes. Is there a problem?]
After sending it, I stared at the words on the screen, a wave of regret washing over me. I quickly unsent the message.
I didn't know Alexander's motive for asking, but the fact that he asked at all meant he cared on some level. My response had sounded far too provocative. Staring at the blank screen, I could only pray he hadn't seen it. A few seconds later, I sent a simple, noncommittal "Mmm." He didn't reply.
Because of that single text, I spent the rest of the workday distracted, my mind drifting, unable to focus.
When it was finally time to leave, I got into Alexander's car, unable to stop myself from studying his expression. Seeing no discernible change, I let out a small, quiet sigh of relief.
I began, trying to break the silence. He glanced at me, his face a neutral mask. The complete lack of emotion in his look made my own words falter.
Finally, I managed to ask, "When is the banquet? Is there anything special I need to prepare?"
The question I had wanted to ask had morphed into polite filler on my tongue, and I offered an awkward smile.
Alexander seemed disinclined to answer, offering only another one of his inscrutable looks before turning his attention back to the road.
The already confined space of the car grew heavy, the atmosphere thick with an oppressive silence he had manufactured with just a glance.
I did my best to look away, to ignore the palpable sense of pressure that emanated from him.
When we finally reached the house, I practically bolted from the car, only to be stopped by a firm hand gripping my arm. I turned to see Alexander's brow furrowed in a deep frown. "Are you avoiding me?"
I bit my lower lip, not daring to speak. After a moment's hesitation, I mumbled, "Why would I be avoiding you? It was a busy day at work. I just want to rest."
Ever since I sent that message, he had seemed intent on ignoring me. Given his status, if he chose to give me the silent treatment, was I really expected to go out of my way to appease him? The thought stirred a sense of indignation within me.
His frown deepened, and he pulled me closer. "Listen," he said, his voice low and firm. "You are pretending to be my girlfriend. You should have a certain degree of self-awareness about that."
I didn't understand what he meant by that. "You said it yourself, it's just pretend," I countered directly. "Do I really need to worry about anything?"
Since it wasn't a real relationship, the concerns that applied to normal couples shouldn't exist for us. Yet, the implication in his words was something else entirely. I stopped struggling, my gaze fixed on his, trying to decipher his true thoughts.
As our eyes met, Alexander's brow slowly relaxed. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. "Quite the sharp tongue," he murmured. "So, what are your thoughts?"
"My thoughts are simple. We act as we normally do. No need for anything special. If we need to attend a banquet, I'll stay by your side, but you must guarantee my safety."
Although I knew he would protect me because of the child I was carrying, I felt a persistent unease unless the words were spoken aloud.
Alexander's eyes narrowed slightly, and then he let out a soft chuckle. "In matters between us," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "I'm the one who decides."
I didn't understand his meaning and simply stared at him, bewildered. When had Alexander become so difficult to read? While I had never been able to see through him before, I had at least been certain that he was completely indifferent to me. Now, his attitude was becoming more and more ambiguous.
Could it be…
A thought flashed through my mind, but I dismissed it as quickly as it appeared. A man of Alexander's stature could have any woman he wanted. It was impossible that he would develop that kind of interest in me. I was definitely overthinking it.