THE BILLIONAIRE STILL WANTS HER!
Chapter 173: What do you mean?

Chapter 173: What do you mean?

"Wait—what are you doing? What do you mean by that?" Arthur’s voice cut through the tense silence, trembling ever so slightly with a hint of fear he couldn’t quite mask.

The subtle tremor didn’t go unnoticed.

Alex, standing still with an unnerving calm, let out a soft chuckle that echoed faintly in the room, the kind that sent a chill down Arthur’s spine.

"Oh, this?" Alex gestured casually, his fingers brushing over the object as if it were no more important than a discarded toy. "What’s the point of keeping something once it’s served its purpose?" His tone was light, almost amused, but there was a cold finality in his words.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, frustration bubbling beneath his fear. "You know," he said slowly, as if choosing his words with caution, "I could inform my aunt about all of this. About you. Your actions. Every last detail."

He meant it as a threat—but the second the words left his mouth, Alex smiled.

Not a friendly smile. A knowing, confident one that held far too much weight.

That smile alone stopped Arthur mid-thought.

He was staring at a man—older, wiser, and far more dangerous than he liked to admit.

A man far too calm in the face of consequences.

The image of being caned, humiliated even, flashed across Arthur’s mind, and it made his stomach twist.

But Alex? He was composed. Steady. Calculating.

"All that matters," Alex said, voice quiet and deliberate, "is that you finally begin to understand." He leaned forward just slightly, his eyes never leaving Arthur’s. "Understand why I’m here, and what I came to claim."

Arthur stiffened.

"Your aunt," Alex said at last, almost thoughtfully, as if tasting the word. He nodded once, slow and deliberate. "She’d be very interested to hear about all this. Particularly about how much of a ridiculous, arrogant little fool you’ve been lately. Wouldn’t you agree?"

The words landed hard.

Arthur’s expression shifted. His eyes darkened, jaw tightening, pride flaring like a storm behind his face.

If there was one thing he held sacred, it was the reputation he had with his aunt—her approval meant everything.

And Alex knew it. He had struck exactly where it would hurt the most.

Arthur took a breath, steadying his voice. "Should we just get this over with?" he said flatly, defiance replacing fear. "I’ve got people to see, and I don’t have time for your games."

Alex only laughed again, low and smooth, the sound filled with far more knowledge than he let on.

Alex clenched his fists, his eyes fixed on the cane beside him.

Deep down, he desperately wished he could just pick it up and use it—make a statement that would shut Arthur up once and for all.

"There was only one task I asked you to handle," Alex began coldly, his voice like a blade slicing through the tension in the room. "You were supposed to ensure that Angel’s child was aborted. Simple. And above all, you were to make sure she signed the transfer documents—every last one of them—so that control could pass to me, and then, ultimately, to you. That was the deal. But tell me, Arthur... why haven’t I seen even a shred of that paperwork?"

Arthur leaned back with a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. "Maybe," he said slowly, deliberately, "that’s because I had a change of plans. How about that?"

Those words hit Alex like a slap to the face. For a moment, it was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. His reaction was instant—he bolted upright from his seat, the chair scraping violently against the floor.

"Really?!" Alex barked, his voice carrying an unexpected boldness that made Arthur momentarily freeze in disbelief.

Even in his supposedly soundproof office, Arthur took note of the echo—the kind of noise that couldn’t be ignored.

"I’m not going to tolerate that attitude," Arthur snapped, jabbing a finger toward Alex in accusation.

But just as he raised his hand, a sharp, unexpected pain tore through his side.

He let out a feral growl, staggering slightly. Alex, silent until now, had struck him with the cane—the cane he left—its return both unexpected and symbolic.

Arthur’s mouth fell open as his eyes locked onto the weapon. "You... you extended the cane again," he muttered, astonished.

The very sight of it, fully lengthened and in Alex’s control, seemed to strip him of all pretense.

Alex stepped forward, his voice low and venomous. "You don’t get to stand there and feed me lies. I gave you one instruction—just one. That should’ve been enough."

Arthur, still catching his breath from the blow, narrowed his eyes. "Did you honestly believe I would just roll over and obey? You gave me every reason not to trust you. If I had handed you those files, I guarantee you’d have turned them against me the first chance you got."

For a split second, Alex faltered—his expression flickering with surprise.

But then, just as quickly, he scoffed, the corner of his mouth lifting in bitter amusement. He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Arthur’s.

"Maybe," he said, "but that doesn’t change the fact that you just made the worst mistake of your life."

"I wouldn’t have given you—" Alex started, his voice trailing off as he clicked his lips in frustration, the sharp sound cutting through the tense air.

His words hung in the space between them, unfinished, like a promise broken before it could fully form.

"You know, those are the exact words I heard from someone else once," Arthur responded, his tone laced with a mocking undertone, as he leaned slightly forward, locking eyes with Alex. "And truth be told, you’re chasing after something you already know you’ll end up rejecting, aren’t you?" Arthur’s gaze never wavered, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling certainty.

Alex, caught off guard by the statement, watched as Arthur’s lips curved into an almost knowing smile. And in that moment, it dawned on him—Arthur knew.

He knew exactly how Alex would react, every little twitch, every change in his expression.

Arthur wasn’t just playing a game; he was orchestrating it.

Everything about this moment, from the tension in the air to the weight of the words, felt calculated. He understood Alex’s patterns too well, perhaps better than Alex understood himself. This wasn’t the first time Arthur had outplayed him, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.

Come to think of it, Alex realized, there was a reason why he had never given Arthur the kind of consent or control he so obviously craved.

Perhaps, it was because deep down, Alex had never felt like he had what Arthur truly wanted.

But now, as he stood there, watching Arthur’s smug smile grow wider, a new thought bubbled up—maybe Arthur’s pleasure wasn’t in winning, but in watching Alex struggle with the idea of losing.

A wry smirk tugged at the corner of Arthur’s lips, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Things would’ve been so much easier if not for you, Alex," he taunted, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Alex’s temper flared, his hand jerking out in a sharp, accusatory gesture, pointing directly at Arthur. "You don’t have the right to say that," he snapped, the intensity of his words catching him off guard.

But as soon as the words left his mouth, a strange realization hit him like a wave.

He had always been lenient with Arthur and Tryson, indulging their antics and giving them more leeway than they deserved.

Maybe that had been his mistake. Maybe this was the result of his own weakness—his failure to impose boundaries, his tolerance for their provocations.

The thought settled heavily in his chest, a gnawing awareness that perhaps he had been too soft, too willing to overlook their games.

And as that truth settled in, another followed close behind. This wasn’t the end. No, they hadn’t seen anything yet. This game was far from over.

Alex stood there, his fists clenched, his mind working furiously as he realized the gravity of the situation.

He was going to make sure that Arthur paid for everything he had done—every betrayal, every deceit, and every ounce of disrespect. There would be no escaping the consequences.

"You know what?" Alex’s voice was low and dangerous, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Let’s see who really has the guts to play this game. You crossed the line, Arthur, and now you’re about to feel the weight of your choices. You’ll see exactly how much you’ll suffer for all of this." His words dripped with venom as he stared hard at his adversary.

But beneath the rage was a gnawing sense of frustration that Alex couldn’t shake off.

The worst part wasn’t the fact that Arthur had crossed him—it was the undeniable truth that Alex was powerless in this very moment.

He couldn’t make a move, not yet, not with the promise he had made to his wife.

Back when he had decided to bring Arthur into their fold, Alex had sworn to his wife that he would protect the young man, keep him out of harm’s way.

He had promised her that Arthur would be safe, shielded from the kind of violence and darkness that had consumed their lives.

But now, that very promise felt like a cruel joke, twisting inside him, eating away at his insides.

The loyalty he had once sworn to protect Arthur was now the very thing that had him trapped.

It was a painful irony he couldn’t escape, and every second that ticked by made it feel like he was suffocating in his own decisions.

"So, what is it, Arthur?" Alex spat, his voice tight with barely contained anger. "You really think you’re just going to take all of this for yourself? All the power, all the wealth? Is that it?"

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