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Chapter 7: The Recording

The atmosphere on the third floor completely froze.

I stood securely in Alexander’s embrace, one hand still gently gripping his expensive lapel, the other holding the phone. I looked at Clara’s pale, terrified face in front of me, yet I felt strangely, powerfully calm inside.

Perhaps it was because, having come this far, I no longer felt afraid of these elite bullies. Or perhaps it was because fifty million dollars was standing behind me, supporting all my courage.

“If you say I made it up,” I blinked, my voice still soft, still trembling perfectly, “then I’ll open the recording. It’ll be clear to everyone.”

Clara took a desperate step forward, clearly intending to snatch the phone from my hand, but Alexander was significantly faster.

He stepped slightly in front of me, his arm held firmly across her path like an iron bar. His dark gaze was so cold, so lethally furious, that I felt a chill run down my own spine.

“Stand back,” Alexander ordered. Just two words, and Clara’s face instantly turned bone-white.

I lowered my head and pressed play on the recording app.

A second of static passed, and then Clara’s arrogant, venomous voice rang out clearly in the silent hallway.

“I know you’re only staying for the money. Okay, I’ll give you the money. Just agree to the divorce, we can negotiate the amount you want to walk away. If I hadn’t gone abroad three years ago, the position of Mrs. Sterling would have been mine. You’re just a random, poor girl chosen to fill the void.”

The recording wasn’t long, but every single sentence was enough to make the atmosphere so incredibly heavy that no one dared to breathe.

I hadn’t even finished playing the clip when the grandfather slammed his heavy wooden cane violently onto the marble floor. He was usually a calm, composed patriarch, but his voice was now trembling with rage.

“Enough!” the grandfather roared.

Clara stammered, tears springing to her eyes. “Grandpa, please—”

“I am not your grandfather, Clara,” the old man interrupted brutally. “When did the Sterling family ever give you the right to address me so intimately, while you attempt to bribe my grandson’s wife like a common thug?”

That sentence was so harsh, so utterly devastating, that Clara almost lost all color, looking as if she were about to faint.

I lay still in Alexander’s arms, obediently saying nothing more. Because I knew that I had already won half the battle. The other half depended entirely on how clearly Alexander proved he was on my side.

I looked up at him.

Alexander was also looking down at me. His eyes were incredibly deep and dark, but what made my heart stop was that there was absolutely no hint of reproach in them. He wasn’t angry at me for overacting. He wasn’t displeased that I had dragged Clara out to publicly confront her in front of the elders.

There was only one thing in his eyes: heartbreak.

He gently, tenderly wiped away the single tear still clinging to the corner of my eye with his thumb. Then, he looked up at Clara.

His voice was deep and calm, but the calmer it was, the more chilling and absolute it felt.

“Who I marry, who I keep by my side, and who I give the position and power of Mrs. Sterling to is my decision, and my decision alone,” Alexander said.

He paused, his arm around my waist tightening securely, pulling me flush against his side. “The person I chose, from the beginning to the end, was only ever her.”

As soon as those words came out, even I was stunned.

Clara looked as if she had been physically slapped across the face. Her lips trembled violently. “Alexander… you know perfectly well that there was an understanding between us before she arrived! We were supposed to be together!”

Alexander looked straight at her, decisively, mercilessly cutting off all her escape routes and all her delusions. “There was absolutely nothing between us three years ago, Clara. And there is certainly nothing between us now.”

I heard my heart pound heavily against my ribs. I didn’t understand why, when I should have felt triumphant about securing my fifty million dollars, the first thing that welled up inside me was a strange, overwhelming bitterness.

Because I realized that he wasn’t just saying these words to destroy Clara; he was also saying them directly to me. He was telling me that I had never truly been a temporary, disposable stand-in, as I had always thought of myself.

The grandfather looked around the hallway in disgust, and finally, with a cold expression, ordered the estate butler, “Escort the guest off the property immediately.”

As those words fell, it was as if all of Clara’s last shred of dignity evaporated into thin air. She wanted to say something more, to beg, but Julian, standing behind her, had a face ashen with embarrassment, not daring to utter another word to defend her.

In less than a minute, the psychological battle that I thought would last for several grueling rounds was completely, flawlessly over.

Chapter 8: The Real Payout

On the way back to our private suite, Alexander was still carrying me in his arms.

I originally intended to tell him to put me down because my leg didn’t actually hurt at all except for the vicious pinch I had given myself earlier. But for some reason, looking at his cold, rigidly set jawline, I didn’t dare open my mouth.

When we got back to the bedroom, as soon as the heavy door clicked shut, he gently placed me down on the edge of the massive king-sized bed.

The atmosphere between us immediately became quiet and thick with tension. There were no outsiders, no spying footsteps, no more pathetic, crying acts for me to cling to. Only me, him, and the phone still in my hand, the screen still illuminated with the recording app.

Alexander stood directly in front of me, bowing his head and looking at me for a long time.

Finally, he spoke. His voice was hoarse, rougher than usual. “You are a very good actress.”

I swallowed hard, forcing a tight, nervous smile that was barely acceptable.

“Seraphina,” he called me by my full name, and my heart immediately leaped into my throat. “Just now, when you were crying in the hallway… was any of what you said actually true?”

I looked up at him, bewildered. “Which parts?”

“The divorce,” he answered slowly, his eyes narrowing. “The part where you told her you would sign the papers and give way to her if she just paid you.”

I choked. It turned out that what he cared about most, from the very beginning to the end, wasn’t how brilliantly I had fought against Clara. It was the fact that I was so willing to accept money to leave him.

Before I could even think of a clever way to answer, he bent down. He placed his hands firmly on the mattress on either side of my hips, trapping me entirely in the narrow space at the edge of the bed. His dark eyes were incredibly deep, and there was something terrifyingly, overwhelmingly hot and passionate burning inside them.

He looked at me, and I was forced to lift my chin. His warm breath fell over my face, and my heart raced so violently that I could barely hear the blood rushing in my ears.

“For three years,” he said, enunciating word by agonizing word. “Have I ever let you live like a shadow in this house?”

I was stunned.

He leaned closer. “Have I ever let you bow your head before others as a substitute? Have I ever told you not to appear in public with me, not to stand proudly beside me, not to use the absolute power of my name?”

I couldn’t answer. Because there was no such thing. Truly, there wasn’t.

For the past three years, he had been cold and distant, that was true. And he had been quiet. But he had never, ever belittled me. He never let anyone look down on me. He never put me in a position of secrecy or ambiguity. He had treated me like a queen, even if it was an ice queen.

Suddenly, my nose stung with genuine emotion.

Seeing my expression crumble, Alexander’s voice lowered to a devastated whisper. “You are so incredibly smart, Seraphina. Why are you so clueless about this?”

A single, real tear fell quickly down my cheek. I didn’t even realize I was crying.

I whispered, my voice breaking, “Because you never once said you liked me.”

He froze.

I bit my lip; the pent-up, agonizing resentment and insecurity of three long years finally burst out. “You treated me well. You bought me expensive things. You protected me. But you never said it was because you loved me. What reason did I have to believe I wasn’t just a convenient body in the right place at the right time to appease your grandmother?”

The room fell completely silent.

A few seconds later, Alexander suddenly smiled. It wasn’t a cold, corporate smile. It was a very helpless, very faint, incredibly handsome smile, as if he was truly, completely at a loss with me.

He raised his large hand to cup my face. His thumb gently wiped away the tear from the corner of my eye. Then, he leaned down until his forehead touched mine, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion.

“So now, I will say it clearly,” he breathed.

I held my breath.

“Seraphina. I love you,” Alexander said.

My heart stopped beating.

He looked straight into my eyes, not allowing me to evade his gaze for a second. “Not because you are a good actress. Not because you please my family. Not because you are sensible or quiet. But because you are you. And you are mine.”

I cried and laughed at the exact same time, my mind completely, blissfully blank.

The next second, he leaned down and kissed me.

This kiss was completely different from all the awkward, careful ones from the past. It was no longer a suppressed, dutiful kiss. It was no longer driven by fierce, hidden jealousy. It was like a true, undeniable confirmation—slow and deep, gentle yet burning all the way to my heart.

When he finally stepped back to let me breathe, I was still trembling in his arms.

Alexander hugged me close, pulling me securely against his chest. His chin rested on my hair, his voice low and rumbling against my ear.

“You can still have your fifty million dollars when the company goes public, Seraphina,” he murmured playfully. “But you cannot ever sell your husband to anyone else.”

I laughed loudly through my tears, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. “You really heard everything in the hallway?”

“Yes,” he replied casually, a smirk in his voice.

Having heard it all, I immediately wanted to die of embarrassment and crawl under the bed, but he tightened his grip, his voice deepening into a serious, passionate command.

“Seraphina, yes, you can like money,” Alexander said softly into my hair. “But you have to promise to like me just a little bit more.”

I buried my blushing face in his chest, finally unable to hold back my joyous laughter.

Outside the window, the crystal lights in the mountain villa were still shining brightly. And at that exact moment, wrapped in the arms of the man who truly loved me, I suddenly felt that fifty million dollars was no longer the only thing in the world that made my heart flutter.

THE END