Chapter 130
Alexander
I stepped out of the car, taking in the sleek façade of Noir, one of Manhattan’s most exclusive lounges. John had parked right out front, a privilege only money and influence could buy in this city.
“I’ll text when I’m ready,” I told him, adjusting my cufflinks as I closed the door.
The bouncer straightened when he saw me approach, nodding respectfully as he unhooked the velvet rope. Inside, the bar hummed with the quiet energy of people who could afford to drink here on a Tuesday night. Dim lighting cast everything in amber and shadow, giving even the most ordinary conversations an air of conspiracy.
I spotted Leo immediately. He was seated at our usual corner table, nursing what looked like a neat whiskey. His eyes tracked me across the room, his face giving away nothing.
“You’re late,” he said as I slid into the seat across from him.
“Traffic,” I replied, flagging down a server with just a glance. “Scotch. The Macallan 25.
The server nodded and disappeared. I turned my attention back to Leo.
“So? What’s the update?”
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Leo took a long sip of his drink before answering. “I went to Café Bleu as we discussed. Spent three hours there this morning.”
“And?”
“And they don’t have security cameras. Not a single one.‘
I snorted. “Of course they don’t.”
“Place like that, you’d think they’d have some basic security,” Leo continued, “but the owner said they’ve never needed it. The neighborhood is safe, and the clientele is upscale.”
My drink arrived, and I took a moment to appreciate the amber liquid before taking a sip. The smoky flavor lingered on my tongue as I considered this information.
“They prepared this well,” I said finally, “Either that or it’s a convenient diversion.”
“You think Tyler was lying about meeting there?”
I shrugged. “Possibly. Or whoever’s behind this chose that location specifically because it lacks surveillance.” I swirled the scotch’in my glass. “Either way, we’ll find out who’s responsible.”
Leo nodded, his expression grim. “I’ve been thinking about this ‘S‘ person. Could be anyone—
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Sophia Winters, Savannah Voss, hell, even Scarlett Reynolds.”
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“Or someone using an alias,” I pointed out. “Did you check the surrounding businesses? Any cameras that might have caught our mystery woman coming or going?”
Leo shook his head. “That’s the other thing. I checked every store, every apartment building, and every traffic camera within a two–block radius. Nothing points directly at the café entrance.”
“Nothing?” I raised an eyebrow. “That’s… convenient.”
“Too convenient,” Leo agreed. “The nearest traffic cam is angled away, and the bodega across the street had its cameras down for maintenance that week.”
I laughed humorlessly. “Maintenance. Right.”
“Exactly.” Leo drained the last of his whiskey. “Someone planned this meticulously. They knew exactly how to avoid being seen.”
The bar had filled up around us, the ambient noise providing the perfect cover for our conversation. A group of Wall Street types were celebrating something at the bar, their laughter occasionally cutting through the sophisticated murmur of the room.
“So we have nothing,” I said, tapping my fingers against the polished table. “We know someone went to extraordinary lengths to drug me at that event. Someone who knew enough to pick a bartender with financial problems, meet him somewhere without cameras, and communicate through temporary accounts.”
“Amateur hour. This isn’t some random attack. It’s targeted.”
“The question is: what were they after? If they wanted me dead, there are easier ways.
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Leo leaned forward, his expression serious despite the ambient noise around us. “We’re clear on one thing – they don’t want you dead.”
“Obviously.” I took another sip of my scotch, savoring the burn. “If someone wanted me in a body bag, they wouldn’t go through this elaborate song and dance. No, this has scandal written all over it.”
–
My mind flashed to that night – the haziness, the disorientation, the overwhelming surge of desire that had consumed me. Madison’s face appeared in my thoughts, her eyes wide with surprise when I’d cornered her in my penthouse. The memory of how she’d felt beneath me sent a jolt through my body that I quickly suppressed.
“Probably hoping for some compromising photos,” I continued, keeping my voice level. “Get me drugged up, catch me in a vulnerable position, then what? Blackmail? Public humiliation? Tanking Knight Industries‘ stock?”
Leo tapped his empty glass thoughtfully. “Stock manipulation’s definitely a possibility. Your public
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image is directly tied to company value these days. One viral scandal, and we could see a fifteen percent drop overnight.”
“Only fifteen?” I smirked. “You underestimate how shocking I can be.”
“I’ve known you since school. Nothing you do shocks me anymore.” Leo signaled for another round. “Look, I’ll keep digging. If this ‘S‘ person contacted Tyler directly, there’s a trail somewhere. Nobody’s perfect.”
Our drinks arrived, and I raised mine in a mock toast. “To find whoever’s trying to destroy me before they get a second chance.”
Leo clinked his glass against mine. “And when we find them?”
“When we find them,” I said, my voice dropping, “they’ll wish they’d never heard the name Alexander Knight.”
The scotch burned pleasantly as it went down. I was calculating possibilities: competitors who might benefit from my downfall, former lovers with vendettas, and business rivals looking for leverage. The list was longer than I cared to admit.
“What about Vanessa?” Leo asked, interrupting my thoughts.
I scoffed. “Please. She’s vindictive but not this creative. Besides, she wants me back, not ruined.”
“People do extreme things when rejected. Especially people who aren’t used to hearing ‘no.“”
“True.” I considered it for a moment. “Add her to the list, but keep her low priority. This feels bigger
than a scorned ex.”
Leo nodded. “If I find anything solid, I’ll get back to you immediately.”
“Sure.” I checked my watch. It was getting late, and suddenly, I found myself thinking about Madison. What was she doing right now? Probably buried in those real estate textbooks. The image of her biting her lower lip in concentration flashed through my mind, sending me an unexpected
wave of heat.
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G Gregory Ellington Author
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Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.
