Chapter 20

The man's voice was dangerously low, smooth as velvet yet laced with ice. "Break into my room again without permission, and you're dead."

Alice trembled like a startled doe, her long lashes fluttering wildly as she nodded frantically.

Alexander turned, retrieving the emerald bracelet from the nightstand. Without another word, he scooped her up, carried her back to her room, and set her down. He fastened the bracelet around her wrist with deliberate precision. "Wear this tomorrow when you visit my mother. It'll please her."

"I... understand." Her voice was barely a whisper, choked with apprehension.

He left without another glance.

Alice slammed the door shut behind him, pressing her full weight against it as her legs gave out. She slid to the floor, gasping for air.

It felt like she had narrowly escaped hell.

Thankfully, it had only been a false alarm.

Once her breathing steadied, she stripped off her wedding gown and crystal heels, washed up, and collapsed into bed. Tomorrow was her first day at work—she needed to be sharp.

The next morning, Alice rose early to visit Margaret. She made sure to flash the bracelet with a shy smile, and as expected, Margaret's face lit up with delight.

After chatting for a while, Alice excused herself. "Mom, I have to head to work now, but I'll see you tonight."

"Alice, sweetheart, it's only your second day as a married woman! Why are you rushing off to work?" Margaret frowned in confusion.

Alice feigned indignation. "Mom! You're the one who surprised me with a wedding out of nowhere! I just landed my dream job in architectural design—you know how much this means to me."

Margaret sighed, relenting. "Fine, fine. Congratulations on the job. Go on, but don't forget to visit me after work."

Reporting to her new company went smoothly.

Just as Dominic—who had escorted her home the previous night—had said, the design department immediately assigned her to a suburban construction site in South City. Officially, it was for "adjustment." In reality, she was relegated to menial labor.

But Alice didn’t care.

Her salary as an Architectural Assistant far exceeded that of regular site workers. One full month’s pay would cover another pregnancy test—and a trip back home to investigate her mother’s death.

So she endured.

For three grueling days, Alice worked tirelessly—visiting Margaret in the mornings, hauling materials all day, then returning to Margaret in the evenings. By the third night, exhaustion claimed her before she could even eat dinner.

The next morning, she overslept by nearly an hour.

Panicked, she scrambled to get ready and bolted for the bus. She barely had time for a quick visit with Margaret before racing to the construction site.

She sprinted the last stretch, desperate not to be late—only to collide headlong with a stranger.

"Sorry! I'm in a hurry!" she blurted, darting past without a second glance.

The man she’d bumped into was Damian Hayes.

A sinister grin curled his lips as he watched her retreating figure. "Took me days to track you down, and here you are, falling right into my lap."

He shadowed her to the site, then pulled out his phone. "Miss Sullivan, found your target. Guess what she’s doing? Manual labor on a construction site—filthy work for lowlifes. You sure this is the woman stealing your fiancé?"

Victoria’s laugh was sharp with triumph. "Alice Carter, a construction worker? Pathetic! As if Alexander would ever choose her over me."

"Still want her dead?"

"Of course. But first, I want to play with her. Didn’t you promise I could watch?"

"Name the time and place—as long as the payment’s right."

Victoria hummed in satisfaction. "This’ll be fun."

Since Alice was merely a pawn to appease Alexander’s mother, Victoria relished the thought of crushing her with the truth before ending her.

She couldn’t wait to see Alice’s despair.

That evening, as Alice waited for the bus, an unmarked van screeched to a halt beside her.

Before she could react, rough hands yanked her inside.

A hood was ripped from her head moments later, revealing an abandoned warehouse. Terror seized her.

The nightmare from Alexander’s bedroom had become reality.

The gang’s leader—a brutish man with cruel eyes—snatched the bracelet from her wrist. "Don’t touch her!" he barked.

One of his men leered. "She’s dead anyway. Why not let us have some fun first?"

Alice squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaking her cheeks.

"You’ll get your turn—after Miss Sullivan sees her. Until then, hands off. Or else."

The men fell silent.

Damian left to sell the bracelet, unaware the jeweler had immediately alerted Alexander.

"Master Knight, the bracelet’s surfaced. We’ve tagged the seller. Tracking him will lead us to Miss Carter."

"Follow him. I’m on my way." Alexander’s voice was lethal.

This time, he’d make sure Alice paid dearly.

Meanwhile, in the warehouse, Victoria glared at a medical report in her hands.

With a snarl, she slapped Alice hard enough to snap her head back. "You’re pregnant?! You disgusting little—!"

Alice, bound to a concrete pillar, could only sob silently.

Victoria’s laughter was manic. "Oh, Alice. Let me tell you whose child you’re carrying. Care to guess?"