The Villains Must Win-Chapter 69: Alexander Vale 19

The program had finally begun, and the ballroom buzzed with energy as guests moved between tables, exchanging pleasantries and forging new business connections.

Alexander Vale, as expected, was a magnet for attention.

One businessman after another approached him, eager to engage in conversation, to shake his hand, to be in the good graces of a man whose influence stretched far beyond the room. He handled them effortlessly—cool, charismatic, exuding an authority that made others want to be associated with him.

And, of course, Ethan Carter, the male lead of this story, was not one to be left behind.

But as dinner was served, the socializing came to a pause. Guests returned to their seats, conversations quieting as they turned their attention to the meal in front of them.

Alexander, however, entertained no one anymore.

Because his attention was entirely on her. Celeste Hart.

Those seated nearby blinked in stunned silence, their conversations faltering as they witnessed something unbelievable.

Alexander Vale—the ruthless, untouchable businessman—was cutting steak . . . for a woman.

His movements were slow, graceful. He carefully sliced the meat into perfect bite-sized pieces before placing them onto Celeste’s plate, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She didn’t even have to ask.

The women in the room exchanged glances, barely suppressing their envy. Some bit their lips, sighing wistfully, while others tried to conceal their frustration. They had spent years trying to capture Alexander Vale’s attention, yet here was Celeste Hart—being doted on as if she were royalty.

The men, on the other hand, cleared their throats awkwardly, choosing to look away, as if witnessing such an intimate act made them uncomfortable.

It was clear to everyone now.

Celeste Hart wasn’t just Alexander Vale’s secretary.

She was the current muse of his heart.

And in the world of high society, where business and relationships intertwined, it was a lesson quickly learned—if you wanted to gain favor with Alexander Vale, perhaps the fastest way wasn’t through him . . .

But through her.

Already, whispers spread like wildfire. Strategies were being formed.

Maybe the best way to secure a deal with Alexander was to win over his woman.

At the far end of the room, Riley struggled to keep her composure.

Her fingers clenched into her lap, her nails digging into the fabric of her dress as she forced a smile, but the weight of jealousy and regret pressed down on her like an unbearable weight.

Because once upon a time . . . Alexander had done the same for her.

He had cut her food. He had fed her. He had taken care of her in a way that no one else had ever done.

And yet, back then, it had infuriated her.

"I have hands, Alexander. I can cut my own food."

"I know," he had said, unfazed. "But I want to do it for you."

"It’s suffocating."

That was what she had always told him. That his love—his attention—his obsession . . . was too much.

She had pushed him away, over and over again, until finally . . . he had stopped trying.

Now, watching him do it so effortlessly for Celeste, Riley felt something she never thought she would—

Loss.

And worst of all . . . regret.

Her gaze flickered toward Ethan, the man she had chosen in the end. The man she should be happy with.

For some reason, in that moment, she wanted him to do what Alexander was doing for Celeste.

She wanted Ethan to pull her plate closer, to cut her steak, to look at her with the same quiet devotion Alexander had once given her.

But Ethan?

He barely spared her a glance.

He knew she was an independent, capable woman. He had always respected that about her. He would never do something as vulgar as displaying such affection in public.

And Riley . . . ?

For the first time, she wished he would.

The auction began, showcasing an array of rare paintings, artifacts, exotic animals, and ancient jewelry, each piece more exquisite than the last. Bidders eagerly raised their paddles, but none of the items truly caught Alexander Vale’s interest.

Still, when the auctioneer presented a collection of rare, centuries-old jewelry, Alexander placed his bids without hesitation. Not a single soul dared to challenge him. The mere weight of his presence, his cold, piercing gaze, was enough to silence any opposition.

The other attendees either feared his influence or knew better than to provoke a man of his caliber. And so, with effortless ease, he acquired the jewelry—pieces worth hundred of millions—without breaking a sweat.

What truly stunned the audience, however, was what he did next.

Without a moment’s pause, he turned to Celeste Hart and placed the entire collection in front of her, as though the astronomical sum meant nothing to him.

Celeste arched a brow, lips curving into an amused smirk. "Aren’t you worried you’ll deplete your fortune on me?" she teased, tilting her head as she admired the glittering treasures now in her possession.

Alexander’s fingers tightened around hers, his grip firm yet possessive. He leaned in slightly, his voice a low, velvety murmur.

"Deplete my fortune?" He let out a soft, amused scoff. "My dear, what I spend on you is nothing but pocket change." His thumb brushed against her knuckles, slow and deliberate. "If I wanted, I could buy this entire auction house just to see you pick what you like at your leisure."

His gaze locked onto hers. "So go ahead—test me. See if there’s anything in this world I wouldn’t give you."

The room felt smaller, the air heavier. Celeste’s breath hitched slightly, but she masked it with a smile. She should’ve known—Alexander Vale was arrogant as hell and very much over the top.

Celeste swirled the wine in her glass, her lips curving into a teasing smile. "Be careful, Mr. Vale," she murmured, her voice like silk laced with challenge. "What I truly want . . . I’m sure even you couldn’t give it to me."

Alexander’s gaze darkened, his grip on her fingers tightening ever so slightly. He leaned in, close enough that she could feel the quiet power radiating from him.