Bound by Secrets

Chapter 32: The Wrath of Alexander

Alexander’s office was a study in organized chaos, the dim light from the lamp casting shadows across stacks of paperwork and open laptops. He sat at his desk, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched as he listened to the hurried report from his head of security. The man stood stiffly in front of him, his face pale, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke.

“They got into the Tribeca safehouse, sir. They took files—records of the transactions, the list of associates. We’re still assessing the full extent of the breach, but…” The man paused, swallowing hard. “It’s bad.”

Alexander’s expression didn’t change, but there was a cold fury in his eyes. He reached out, grabbing a glass of whiskey from his desk, his fingers tightening around the glass. He took a slow sip, his gaze fixed on the man in front of him.

“Bad,” he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. “You’re telling me that two people—a secretary and her friend—managed to break into my safehouse, overpower my guards, and steal information that could ruin everything?”

The head of security flinched, his eyes dropping to the floor. “We underestimated them, sir. We didn’t expect—”

“Of course you underestimated them,” Alexander snapped, slamming the glass down on the desk. The force of the impact sent a crack spider-webbing across the surface of the glass, the whiskey sloshing over the edge. “You underestimated them, and now they have information that could destroy everything I’ve built. Everything.”

He stood, his movements controlled but filled with barely contained rage. He walked to the window, looking out at the darkened estate grounds. The night was calm, a stark contrast to the storm of fury brewing inside him. He had worked too hard, sacrificed too much to let it all fall apart now—especially not because of a secretary he had once thought insignificant.

Emma. The name echoed in his mind, a sharp reminder of his mistake. He had underestimated her from the beginning, treated her as just another piece in his game, a tool to be used and discarded. But she had proven herself to be far more dangerous than he had ever imagined. She had crossed him, defied him—and now, she had taken something from him that he couldn’t afford to lose.

Alexander turned back to the head of security, his eyes cold. “I want them found,” he said, his voice low, each word laced with menace. “I don’t care what it takes, I don’t care how many resources you have to use. Find Emma, find her friend, and bring them to me. Alive.”

The man nodded quickly, relief flickering in his eyes at having clear orders. “Yes, sir. We’ll double our efforts. We’ll find them.”

Alexander’s lips twisted into a cold smile. “Good,” he said. “And when you do, make sure they understand what happens to people who think they can cross me. I want them to suffer. I want them to know they’ve made the biggest mistake of their lives.”

The head of security nodded again, then turned and hurried out of the room, leaving Alexander alone. He took a deep breath, his hands clenching into fists. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Emma might have won this round, but Alexander wasn’t about to let her walk away unscathed. She had stolen from him, humiliated him, and now she would pay the price.

He moved back to his desk, his fingers brushing against the cracked glass. He would have to be smarter, more careful. He couldn’t afford another mistake—not now, not with everything on the line. He would find Emma, he would make her regret ever crossing him, and he would take back control of everything she had tried to take from him.

Alexander picked up his phone, dialing a number from memory. It rang twice before a voice answered, calm and professional. “Yes, Mr. Alexander?”

“I need a team,” Alexander said, his voice cold, devoid of any emotion. “The best you have. I want them on the streets within the hour. Find Emma Hart and bring her to me. And make sure they understand—failure is not an option.”

The voice on the other end hesitated for only a moment before responding. “Understood, sir. I’ll assemble the team immediately.”

Alexander ended the call, his eyes narrowing as he looked out the window once more. This wasn’t just about revenge—it was about sending a message. To Emma, to anyone else who might think of standing against him. He was Alexander Donovan, and no one—no secretary, no rogue employee, no one—would take what was his.

He picked up the cracked glass, swirling the remaining whiskey before downing it in one go. A cold determination settled over him, his mind already calculating his next move. He wouldn’t just find Emma. He would destroy her, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

And when he was done, she would know that crossing Alexander Donovan was the last mistake she’d ever make.