What He Really Wants

Chapter three

Alex's POV

Hell.
Oh, do I hate the effect she has on me.
Even in her work clothes, even when I did everything to intimidate her, she wouldn't back down.
You'd think that for someone who should feel guilty, she'd be quivering in her seat just from the looks I gave her. But no — she stubbornly looked me in the eye, and I don't know if I found it sexy or infuriating.

Even with the tough exterior she wore, I could still see that my words hurt her.
And I hated myself a little for resorting to such pathetic tactics.
She hurt me too.

But why did she do that?
It didn't seem necessary. It obviously wasn't the money. The witness claimed she just wanted to screw me over.

It's been four years already, and I still don't understand why she was so angry that she'd try to destroy everything I built.
We were okay, I believed. Never fought — just the occasional banter.
We weren't some fairy tale couple, sure, but we held our own, right?

As petty as it sounds... I wanted to get back at her. I needed her to feel the kind of pain she made me feel.
That was the closure I wanted.

After fumbling with my office chair for long enough, I pressed a button on the intercom.
"Cole, get my lawyer on the line. I want the contract ready by tomorrow. And in the meantime, prepare to move Ms. Smith from her house to mine."

"Right away, sir," he replied.

I ran a hand down my face and through my hair.
What was I doing?
I wanted to make her life miserable — but how exactly was this helping?
Honestly, it still doesn't.

The child — now that was definitely a variable I hadn't considered.
She said the father wouldn't be trouble. She better hope she's right.
Because I can do worse than blackmail.

I groaned out loud. "Hell."

I needed a visit to Selena's to work off the frustration.

Selena was... easy.
Simple.
We saw to each other's needs and didn't expect anything extra.
Me — an outlet for my anger.
Her — enough money for some phantom business idea I've never seen take shape.

After the whole debacle with Edna, I sought out "easy" wherever I could.
And I couldn't complain.

⸻

"What?" I gave her a questioning look as I buttoned up my shirt.
She lay on the bed with the sheets drawn up to her chest.

I looked like a mess. I could use a shower.
But for some reason, I wanted to get home earlier than usual tonight.

I was getting bored around her. It had been a long time coming.
The games with Selena were getting old.

"I need more money," she said matter-of-factly.

"How much?"

"Five hundred grand."

"I'll wire a million," I said, leaning on the table. "After today, I won't be coming here again. I'm getting married this weekend."

"Wait — what?"
She made to leave the bed, thought better of it, and instead reached for a bathrobe. She tied it around her, tension in every movement.

"Who is she?"

"Edna. You know her."
I didn't look at her.
"There won't be a ceremony, so I can't invite you."

"Wow," she said, her tone dripping with bitterness. "I've been with you for four years and you're just going to toss me like dirt off your fancy shoe?"

I raised an eyebrow in amusement.
Selena never came with the truckload of hysteria most women seemed to carry.
Apparently, I was wrong.

"You knew what this was — convenience."

"When has that ever been a problem for me, huh?" she snapped. "But after what that bitch did to you, you still pick her over me. Again."

"Alright, you need to control yourself. I was never under the impression that I owed you an explanation about how I run my life."

She looked at me with the same wounded expression she wore the day I told her I was in love — and that our arrangement had to end.

"She'll screw you over again. You know that, don't you?"

"That's quite enough, Selena," I said sharply.

As much of a sham as this marriage was, I wasn't going to let her question me.
No one had that right.

I was doing this to claim my inheritance — and unfortunately, I had to be married to access it.
Edna was the safer bet.

Someone like Selena would be sly, manipulative — and I didn't want to deal with the mess a divorce would bring.

"You'll come back to me like you did four years ago," she said with venom. "You won't be able to help yourself."

I had to laugh at that.
Usually, I found drama exhausting. But this? This was just amusing.

"Goodbye, Selena."

"Whatever!" she spat, slamming the door in my face.

Jesus. She was a lot to deal with.

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