Chapter11
Bella Hart’s tears dried almost instantly‘‘. She nestled against Alexander’s chest, the glint of triumph in her eyes hidden beneath a smile of contentment.
To prove to the world and to himself—that this was a new beginning, Alexander began taking
Bella everywhere in the most ostentatious fashion.
He bought her the most extravagant jewels.
He escorted her to the most exclusive auctions.
He bought out entire restaurants so she could dine like a queen in solitude.
And Bella played her role flawlessly, appearing sweet, flirtatious, and endlessly compliant in
public.
Yet only Alexander knew the truth, a weight that grew harder to bear every day.
Her demands multiplied.
One week she complained the StoneAir A800 Jet wasn‘ t spacious enough.
The next she wailed that the champagne on his yacht wasn‘ t the proper vintage.
Another night she smashed a vase because he refused to cancel a multibillion–dollar cross–national board meeting to fly her to Iceland to see the aurora.
Each meltdown closed with the same refrain: he owed her his life. And each time, Alexander gave
- in.
Yet the frustration kept gnawing, the emptiness in his chest growing worse by the day.
Sometimes, against his will, memories of his five years with Grace Miller broke the surface. She had never asked for anything. She was always just there–quiet, steady–pressing a glass of water into his hand when he came home late, leaving a midnight snack on his desk when he worked past
dawn.
The thought came and went, but every time it left him inexplicably more unsettled.
Three years slipped by.
The gentle haze that once softened her in his eyes was gone. Underneath lay vanity, excess, and a wild instability close to madness.
Chapter11
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She maxed out his secondary cards in shopping sprees across continents, her closets stuffed with luxury pieces worn once–or never touched at all.
She demanded instant replies to every text, bombarding his office with call after call if he so much
as delayed, regardless of whether he was in the middle of leading a meeting involving billions in
investment.
And she never stopped wielding the same line. “Alexander, have you forgotten who saved your life? Without me, you wouldn’t even be here.”
The suffocation became unbearable.
Still, out of guilt and misplaced gratitude, he gave in again and again, even as his chest grew hollower by the day.
The breaking point came at the StoneTech Launch Hall, during the unveiling of a flagship smart
office device. The product was meticulously crafted for elite business professionals–sleek,
disciplined, precise.
But when it came time to finalize a global spokesperson, Bella bulldozed the marketing and PR teams, insisting on a male celebrity she had been obsessing over–known for his sultry scandals and wild–child persona.
“I don’t care what you say! He’s gorgeous! With him, sales will explode!” she screamed, throwing
herself onto the carpet in overacted despair‘.
Alexander tried explaining brand integrity, alignment, market positioning. She covered her ears. When logic failed, she cried. “You don’t love me anymore! You don‘ t care how I feel!”
Exhausted, he gave in.
The result was a disaster.
The ad campaign launched–and backfired instantly. The celebrity’s image clashed violently with the product’s ethos. The target clientele revolted, stocks nosedived, and millions in advertising spend went up in smoke.
In the boardroom, Alexander stared at the ruinous numbers, his face dark with rage.
For the first time, he lost his composure. “Do you see what you’ve done? Do you think this is a game? This was a trillion–dollar project!”
Bella jerked back in shock before screaming, her tears spilling freely. “You yelled at me?! Over
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money? Alexander, you’ve changed! Did you forget who saved you? Without me, you’d be dead! And now you treat me like this–don’t you love me anymore?”
The same script. Again.
Alexander looked at her tear–streaked, contorted face–her manipulations as practiced as breathing. And for the first time, something broke cleanly inside him.
He realized, with cold clarity, that the woman screaming before him bore no resemblance to the gentle savior he remembered.
At that exact moment, his private phone buzzed.
A push notification lit the screen.
“Rising star designer Grace Miller stuns global stage–‘Afterlight‘ Collection wins the Aurelia International Design Prize, sparking a worldwide frenzy.”
Grace Miller.
Her name cut straight into his heart.
