Alexander’s hands paused for a fraction of a second.
Then he continued, pressing the cotton ball against a cut near Kelvin’s eyebrow with just enough pressure to make Kelvin wince.
“Don’t mistake my actions for kindness,” Alexander said, his voice cold as winter steel.
“I’m not doing this because I care about you.
I’m doing this because I don’t want you dying in my house while you still bear the title of my fiancé.
A dead fiancée would raise questions.
Questions I don’t have time to answer.” The words hit Kelvin like a slap.
He felt his face flush, embarrassment and anger warring in his chest.
‘Of course.
Of course this wasn’t kindness.
This was Alexander Morrowgate we were talking about.
The man had ice water running through his veins instead of blood.’ “And as for the contract,” Alexander continued, finally meeting Kelvin’s eyes, his gaze sharp and intimidating, “I’m not arresting you for violating the agreement and embarrassing me because I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.
If I dragged you to court over this, it would attract attention.
Attention I don’t need.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
“But let me make myself perfectly clear, Kelly.
If this happens again—if you leave without permission, if you get drunk, if you do anything else to embarrass me—I will have you arrested.
And you will pay me compensation for emotional damages.
Do I make myself understood?” Kelvin’s fingers curled into fists in his lap.
Every fiber of his being wanted to punch that smug, perfect face.
To wipe that cold, superior expression off Alexander’s features with a solid right hook.
His knuckles itched with the desire.
‘But Gabriella.’ The thought of his sister was like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head.
He couldn’t afford to lose this job.
He couldn’t afford to be arrested.
Gabriella’s life depended on him maintaining this charade, on him enduring whatever humiliation Alexander threw his way.
So instead of throwing a punch, Kelvin clenched his jaw, took a deep breath, and forced himself to nod.
“I understand.” ‘But I hate you,’ he added silently.
‘I hate you so much.’ Yet beneath the anger, beneath the humiliation, there was a thread of relief so profound it almost made him dizzy.
Alexander still didn’t know.
The secret was safe.
Kelvin was still Kelly, still the fiancée, still in the game.
Alexander studied him for a moment, his eyes searching for something.
Then he sat back, his grip on Kelvin’s waist loosening slightly.
“Do you know King Morrowgate?” Alexander asked, his voice casual but his eyes sharp as blades.
“Did you know him before you signed the contract with me?” Kelvin blinked, thrown by the sudden change in topic.
“Your brother?
What?
No.
Before I took this job, I had never met him before in my life.” “He didn’t approach you?
Offer you money?
Make you any promises?” “No.” Kelvin shook his head, genuinely confused.
“The first time I ever saw him was at the meeting with your grandfather.
I didn’t even know he was your brother until your grandfather introduced him.” Alexander’s jaw tightened.
“Have you ever had any relationship with him?
Any kind of relationship at all?” Kelvin shuddered involuntarily.
The memory of King’s cold, knowing eyes, his predatory smile, the way he had touched Kelvin’s hair with such unsettling intimacy barely minutes ago—it made his skin crawl.
“No.
Absolutely not.
I have no relationship with your brother, and I have no intention of ever having one.” Something flickered in Alexander’s eyes.
Relief?
It was gone before Kelvin could be sure, replaced by the usual mask of cold indifference.
Alexander’s shoulders, which had been tense and rigid, relaxed almost imperceptibly.
“Good,” Alexander said.
“Stay away from him.
King Morrowgate is dangerous, Kelly.
More dangerous than you can imagine.
If he takes an interest in you, it’s not because he cares about your well-being.
It’s because he’s playing a game, and you’re a piece on his board.” “You don’t need to tell me twice,” Kelvin muttered.
“I’m planning on never crossing paths with him again.” “Once was more than enough.
That man looks at people like they’re insects he’s thinking about stepping on.
I’d rather scrub toilets with a toothbrush than spend another minute in his presence.” Alexander’s lips twitched—almost, almost a smile.
But then it was gone, replaced by his usual cold mask.
“Good.
Now, tell me why you left the company.” His voice shifted, becoming sharp and interrogative.
“Why did you go drinking?
And who beat you up?” Kelvin’s heart stuttered.
This was the moment.
He had to lie.
He had to lie well.
He took a breath, forcing his voice to sound small and vulnerable.
“I was feeling…
stuffy.
In the company.
Everyone was talking about me.
Whispering.
Calling me a gold digger.
Saying I was only with you for your money.” He let his eyes drop, staring at his hands in his lap.
“I couldn’t take it anymore.
I needed air.
So I left.
I went for a walk, just to clear my head.
But some guys…
they jumped me.
Tried to steal my purse.
I fought back, but there were too many of them.” He looked up, meeting Alexander’s eyes with what he hoped was a convincing expression of wounded innocence.
“After I got beaten up, I was scared and shaking.
I didn’t want to come back to the company or the estate looking like this.
So I went to a bar.
Just to calm my nerves.
I didn’t mean to get so drunk.
I just…
I couldn’t stop thinking about what they said.
About me being a gold digger.” He let his voice crack slightly at the end, hoping to sell the performance.
Alexander stared at him for a long moment.
His expression was unreadable, a marble statue carved from indifference.
Then his jaw clenched.
“Why would you be offended by being called a gold digger?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Kelvin’s heart stopped.
“You ‘are’ acting as my fiancé because you want the reward money,” Alexander continued, each word falling like a hammer blow.
“You signed a contract for money.
You’re pretending to love me for money.
So in a way, Kelly, you ‘are’ a gold digger.” The words hit Kelvin like a hammer to the head.
Something inside him snapped.
All the humiliation, the fear, the pain, the exhaustion—it all came bubbling to the surface in a white-hot wave of fury.
Before he could stop himself, before he could think about the consequences, his hand flew through the air and connected with Alexander’s cheek with a sharp, ringing ‘crack.’ To be continued…