Chapter Sixteen: The Morning After
Annie woke up feeling different.
She lay still, eyes blinking against the soft morning light filtering through her curtains. Her body felt heavy, warm, as if it still carried the imprint of him—of last night.
Her breath caught.
Alexander.
It wasn't just a dream. It wasn't just another fantasy she had forced herself to ignore. It had happened.
She turned her head slowly, and there he was.
Alexander Carter, the man she had tried so hard to resist, lay beside her in her tiny apartment, looking completely out of place but undeniably right.
The sheets were pooled around his waist, his bare chest rising and falling in the quiet morning air. Relaxed. As if, for once, he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Annie swallowed, her heart pounding.
What now?
Last night had been fire and inevitability, a slow burn finally consuming them both. But what came next?
Would he regret it?
Would he walk away, pretending nothing had changed?
A flicker of fear passed through her. Maybe this was just another mistake for a man like him—a moment of indulgence in a world where he always got what he wanted.
As if sensing her thoughts, Alexander stirred. His brow furrowed slightly before his eyes slowly opened, piercing blue meeting hers.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, a smirk.
"Good morning," he murmured, voice deep and rough with sleep.
Annie exhaled sharply, unsure if she wanted to kiss him again or push him away before he shattered whatever was left of her defenses.
"Morning," she whispered.
Silence stretched between them. His gaze drifted down, lingering on the way she clutched the sheet to her chest. Then, just as quickly, his expression shifted.
The playfulness disappeared, replaced by something unreadable.
Annie's stomach clenched. This was it. The moment of truth.
Before she could say anything, Alexander sat up, running a hand through his messy hair. "I should go."
The words punched through her like ice.
She kept her face neutral, swallowing back the sudden sting in her throat. "Of course."
He hesitated. For just a second, he looked like he wanted to say something else. But instead, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, standing up.
Annie watched as he gathered his clothes, moving with his usual calculated control.
It hurt. More than she wanted to admit.
But what did she expect? That a man like Alexander Carter would suddenly be hers?
She turned away before he could see the disappointment in her eyes. "You don't have to explain," she said, forcing her voice to stay steady. "I get it."
A pause.
Then—"Do you?"
The question was so quiet, so unexpected, that she froze.
Slowly, she turned back to face him. He was staring at her. Not cold. Not detached. But conflicted. Torn.
For a brief, reckless moment, hope fluttered in her chest.
But then, just as quickly, he shut it down.
"I'll call you," he said.
And with that, he was gone.
Leaving Annie in the bed they had shared, wondering if she had just made the biggest mistake of her life.
How's that for Chapter 16?
The heat is there, but so is the fallout. Should we have Alexander actually call her… or should we let the distance grow, the doubt creep in, and the longing build again?
Chapter Seventeen: The Distance Between Us
Annie didn't expect a fairytale ending, but she also didn't expect silence.
Days passed, then a full week. No call. No text. Not even a brief, polite email under the guise of business. Nothing.
She told herself it didn't matter. That she had seen it coming. That she wasn't naïve enough to think one night could change everything.
But it did.
Because now, everything felt different.
The boutique felt smaller. Her designs felt uninspired. And every time the door opened, her stomach twisted, hoping—stupidly hoping—that he'd walk in.
He never did.
And yet, Alexander Carter was everywhere.
His name flashed across business headlines. His image appeared in magazines, in articles, in social media posts that she tried not to click on.
And then there was Vanessa.
It started with a single photo.
A charity gala, dripping in wealth and exclusivity, and there she was—Vanessa, standing beside him. The caption was enough to send Annie spiraling.
Rekindling the flame? Alexander Carter and his former flame, Vanessa Laurent, seen together again at last night's charity event.
Annie stared at the screen, her hands trembling.
Maybe it was just business. Maybe it was just for appearances. Maybe he hadn't meant it when he kissed her like she was the only woman in his world.
Maybe she had been a fool to believe any of it.
She slammed her laptop shut, swallowing the lump in her throat. Enough.
She had spent years surviving, fighting, building herself from nothing. She would not break over a man who couldn't even bother to call her.
If Alexander Carter had moved on, then so would she.
Or at least, that's what she told herself.
Elsewhere…
Alexander stared at his phone, jaw tight, thumb hovering over Annie's number.
He had told himself he was doing the right thing. That putting distance between them was necessary.
That she was better off without him in her life.
Then why did it feel like he was suffocating without her?
Vanessa's voice broke through his thoughts. "You're distracted."
He turned his gaze to her, forcing his expression into cold indifference. "Just business."
She smirked, stepping closer, her perfectly manicured fingers trailing along the edge of his sleeve. "You used to look at me like that."
He didn't. He never had. Not the way he looked at Annie.
And that was the problem.
Because Annie Miller had ruined him.
And for the first time in his life, he had no idea what to do about it.
Chapter Eighteen: The Breaking Point
Annie threw herself into her work, refusing to let Alexander Carter's silence define her.
She poured every ounce of frustration, every unanswered question, and every lingering ache into her designs. Late nights at the sewing machine, coffee-fueled mornings at the boutique—anything to drown out the thoughts of him.
But no matter how hard she tried, he was still there.
In the way she second-guessed herself. In the way her heart leapt every time her phone buzzed. In the way his absence felt heavier than his presence ever did.
And then, he showed up.
It was a Thursday evening, long after closing time. Annie was alone in the boutique, adjusting the hem of a dress on the mannequin, when the door swung open.
She didn't have to look up to know who it was.
The air changed.
Her fingers froze on the fabric. Slowly, she turned—and there he was.
Alexander.
Dressed in a sleek black suit, his tie slightly loosened, his face unreadable. But his eyes…
They were filled with something dangerous. Something restless. Something broken.
Annie's pulse pounded, a mix of anger, relief, and something far more dangerous swirling inside her.
"You can't just walk in here like that," she said, her voice sharper than she intended.
He didn't flinch. Didn't move.
"You didn't answer my calls."
She let out a cold laugh. "That's funny, because I don't remember getting any."
His jaw tightened. "I was—"
"Busy?" She folded her arms, masking the way her hands trembled. "Yeah, I saw. You looked great next to Vanessa, by the way."
Something flickered across his face—guilt, frustration, something deeper.
"It wasn't what you think."
"It never is, is it?" she shot back. "You come into my life, you make me feel like—like I actually matter to you, and then you disappear without a word. Now you're here, what? To explain? To tell me it was all a mistake?"
Silence.
And then, his mask cracked.
"I tried to stay away," he said, voice low, rough. "I thought I was protecting you."
Annie's breath hitched.
Protecting her?
"From what?" she whispered.
He stepped closer, the tension between them stretching thin, tight, electric.
"From my world," he said, his voice raw. "From my family, from Vanessa, from the expectations I can't escape. From all the things that will try to destroy us."
Annie stared at him, her heart slamming against her ribs.
"Then why are you here?"
A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Because I can't stay away."
The words hung between them, heavy and charged.
Annie wanted to fight it. Wanted to hate him. But when she looked into his eyes, she saw the truth—he was just as wrecked as she was.
And that was the most dangerous thing of all.
Because if she let him in again, there would be no turning back.
Chapter Nineteen: Giving In
Annie should have pushed him away.
Every warning in her mind screamed at her to walk away, to not fall for his words, to remember the silence he left her in.
But then Alexander stepped closer.
His presence was overwhelming, his cologne familiar, his gaze filled with something raw, something desperate. He wasn't just here to explain—he was here because he couldn't stay away.
And neither could she.
"Annie," he murmured, his voice rough, almost pleading.
She shook her head, backing up until she hit the edge of the counter. "I can't do this again, Alexander. You hurt me."
"I know."
"Then why are you here?"
His fingers curled into fists at his sides, like he was holding himself back. "Because I don't know how to exist without you anymore."
Her breath caught.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them was thick, heated, waiting to shatter.
And then, he broke first.
In a single step, he closed the distance between them, his hands framing her face, his touch hesitant—like he was waiting for her to pull away.
She didn't.
Because the second his lips touched hers, everything else disappeared.
It wasn't slow. It wasn't hesitant. It was a collision—weeks of pain, of longing, of unsaid words crashing into a single, desperate kiss.
Annie's hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he was barely holding himself together. And God, she was unraveling just as fast.
When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling, he whispered, "Tell me I haven't lost you."
She swallowed hard, searching his face, searching for something real.
"You haven't," she whispered back.
His exhale was shaky, filled with relief, and then he kissed her again.
And this time, she let herself fall completely.
How's that for Chapter 19?
The tension finally snaps! Do you want the next chapter to be more intimate and emotional, or should outside forces (Vanessa, his family) start interfering again?
Chapter Twenty: Completely Yours
Annie had never felt this way before—like she was standing on the edge of something dangerous, something consuming.
Alexander's hands traced the curve of her waist, slow, deliberate, as if memorizing her. His touch left a trail of fire in its wake, a silent promise that this time, he wouldn't let her go.
She should have been scared. She should have questioned this, questioned him.
But when he looked at her like that—like she was the only thing that had ever made sense in his chaotic world—she shattered.
"Annie," he murmured, his voice low, rough with restraint. "Tell me to stop, and I will."
She met his gaze, searching for hesitation, for doubt. There was none.
Instead, there was heat. Longing. An ache that had been building between them for too long.
"I don't want you to stop," she whispered.
That was all it took.
His lips crashed against hers, and nothing else mattered.
This wasn't soft. This wasn't careful. This was months of tension, of unspoken words, of pushing and pulling and finally giving in.
Her hands tangled in his hair as he pressed her against the counter, his body firm and unyielding against hers. Every kiss, every touch was a claim, a confession, a surrender.
His mouth trailed down her neck, slow, reverent, like he was worshiping her. "You drive me insane," he murmured against her skin. "I tried to stay away. I tried to do the right thing. But, God, Annie—"
She silenced him with another kiss, pouring everything into it—her anger, her longing, her love.
And when he lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom, she knew there was no turning back.
Tonight, she was his. And more terrifyingly, he was hers.
—
Chapter Twenty-One: After the Fire
Annie woke up to the feeling of warmth, security… and him.
Alexander's arm was draped over her waist, his body pressed against her back, his steady breathing the only sound in the dimly lit room. It felt too good. Too right.
She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, letting herself believe—just for a second—that nothing else mattered. Not his family, not Vanessa, not the difference between their worlds.
Just this. Just them.
But reality was never that kind.
Because the second she shifted, attempting to untangle herself from him, his grip tightened.
"Stay," he murmured, his voice husky from sleep.
Her heart stuttered.
"Alexander…" she whispered, unsure of what to say.
He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the back of her neck, his lips trailing across her bare skin, sending shivers down her spine. Tempting her to forget everything but the way he made her feel.
"Tell me you don't regret it," he murmured.
She turned in his arms, meeting his gaze. God, how could she regret this?
"I don't," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
Relief flashed in his eyes before something darker settled there. Possession. Need.
"You're mine now," he said, running his fingers through her hair, his voice firm, almost dangerous. "No more running."
Annie swallowed hard. She should push back, remind him that she wasn't something to be claimed. But when his lips found hers again, all resistance melted away.
She was his. And deep down, she always had been.
—
Elsewhere…
Vanessa scrolled through her phone, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass as she stared at the screen.
A photograph.
Annie. Leaving Alexander's penthouse.
Her stomach twisted with rage.
She had let Annie have her little fun, let her believe she actually stood a chance.
But enough was enough.
A slow, venomous smile curved on Vanessa's lips.
It was time to remind Alexander—and the world—who he really belonged with.
—
Chapter Twenty-Two: The Storm Begins
Annie stood in front of the boutique, the crisp morning air doing nothing to cool the heat still lingering in her body.
Last night had changed everything.
She had given in, completely, recklessly, without hesitation.
And now, there was no pretending she could walk away. No pretending she didn't want him—need him.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, dragging her back to reality. Unknown number.
Frowning, she hesitated before answering. "Hello?"
A sharp, mocking laugh greeted her.
"Well, well," a familiar voice purred. "Looks like the little orphan girl is finally getting comfortable in her new role."
Vanessa.
Annie's stomach twisted. "What do you want?"
"I just thought I'd give you a friendly warning," Vanessa said sweetly. Too sweetly. "You see, Alexander and I… we have history. You're just a passing phase."
Annie gripped the phone tighter, anger bubbling beneath her skin. "Is that so?"
"Mhmm," Vanessa hummed. "And when he's done playing, he'll come back to me—where he belongs."
Annie forced a laugh, though her heart pounded. "Funny. Last night, he didn't seem to be thinking about you at all."
There was a sharp inhale on the other end, and for a brief moment, Annie knew she had struck a nerve.
But Vanessa recovered quickly. "Oh, sweetie," she cooed. "You really think this is a fairytale? That a girl like you can just… steal Alexander Carter?"
Annie clenched her jaw. "I didn't steal anyone."
Vanessa's laugh was colder this time. "Then let's see how long that lasts."
The line went dead.
Annie stared at her phone, her heart pounding in her chest.
Vanessa wasn't just taunting her. This was a warning.
And Annie had the sickening feeling that this was only the beginning.
—
Meanwhile…
Alexander stood in his office, phone in hand, his grip tightening as he read the latest headline:
"Alexander Carter and Vanessa Laurent: A Rekindled Romance?"
Beneath it was a photo—Vanessa, smiling at his side at the gala.
The article went on to spin a story—one he hadn't given them.
A low growl built in his throat.
Vanessa was playing dirty.
And if she thought she could manipulate him back into her arms, she was about to learn just how wrong she was.
Because he wasn't letting Annie go.
Not now. Not ever.
—
Chapter Twenty-Three: Confrontation
Annie stormed into Alexander's office, her heart pounding, her fists clenched at her sides.
She had barely made it through the front doors of Carter Enterprises before someone tried to stop her—his assistant, security, even a clueless employee who recognized her from the papers.
But she wasn't in the mood for obstacles.
She needed answers.
Pushing the doors open, she found him standing behind his desk, his phone in hand, his jaw tight.
"Annie," he said, surprised, but she didn't let him speak.
She tossed her phone onto his desk, the glaring headline still visible.
"Alexander Carter and Vanessa Laurent: A Rekindled Romance?"
His expression darkened.
"Explain," she demanded, crossing her arms, trying to ignore the way her chest ached.
He exhaled slowly, placing his own phone down. "It's not what it looks like."
"Really?" she
Chapter Twenty-Three: Confrontation
Annie stormed into Alexander's office, her heart pounding, her fists clenched at her sides.
She had barely made it through the front doors of Carter Enterprises before someone tried to stop her—his assistant, security, even a clueless employee who recognized her from the papers.
But she wasn't in the mood for obstacles.
She needed answers.
Pushing the doors open, she found him standing behind his desk, his phone in hand, his jaw tight.
"Annie," he said, surprised, but she didn't let him speak.
She tossed her phone onto his desk, the glaring headline still visible.
"Alexander Carter and Vanessa Laurent: A Rekindled Romance?"
His expression darkened.
"Explain," she demanded, crossing her arms, trying to ignore the way her chest ached.
He exhaled slowly, placing his own phone down. "It's not what it looks like."
"Really?" she scoffed. "Because it looks a lot like the man I just spent the night with is back with his ex."
His jaw tensed. "I'm not back with her."
"Then why is the entire world convinced you are?" she shot back. "Why is she telling me that you'll come running back to her?"
Alexander ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Because Vanessa is playing games. She wants people to believe we're together so she can push you out of the picture."
Annie swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in. Push her out of the picture.
"And you didn't think to warn me?" she asked, her voice quieter now, but no less hurt.
His gaze softened. "I was handling it."
She let out a bitter laugh. "Handling it? Alexander, she called me this morning to rub it in my face. I had to find out from her—not from you."
He took a step closer. "I was going to tell you, but I wanted to fix it first. I didn't want you to worry."
She shook her head. "You don't get to make that decision for me."
Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.
"Do you believe me?" he asked finally, his voice low, almost vulnerable.
Annie looked into his eyes—stormy, unreadable, but honest.
And that was the problem. She wanted to believe him.
She wanted to trust that this wasn't just another heartbreak waiting to happen.
But trusting him meant trusting that Vanessa and his world wouldn't destroy her.
"I don't know," she whispered.
His expression darkened, but he didn't push.
Instead, he reached for her hand, his fingers brushing over hers. "Then let me prove it to you."
Annie didn't pull away.
Not yet.
But deep down, she knew—this wasn't over.
And Vanessa?
She was just getting started.
—
Chapter Twenty-Four: Vanessa's Next Move
Vanessa wasn't done playing.
The news articles had planted the first seed of doubt in Annie's mind—Vanessa could see it, feel it. But she needed more.
So, she made a call.
And by the end of the day, the perfect storm had been set in motion.
—
Meanwhile…
Annie tried to shake off the confrontation with Alexander, but the doubt lingered.
Could she really trust him?
The city lights blurred past as she walked home, lost in thought. She had barely stepped into her apartment when her phone buzzed with a new message.
Unknown Number: Check the news, sweetheart. Thought you should see this first.
Her stomach dropped.
With trembling hands, she tapped open the news app—
And froze.
BREAKING NEWS: Vanessa Laurent Seen Leaving Alexander Carter's Penthouse Late Last Night!
Below it, a photo.
Vanessa. Looking effortlessly stunning, stepping out of the building, wearing the same dress she had at a high-profile event hours earlier.
The headline burned into Annie's mind.
Leaving his penthouse.
No. No, that couldn't be true.
Her pulse pounded as she called Alexander, her fingers shaking.
He answered immediately. "Annie?"
She swallowed hard. "Tell me it's not true."
A pause. "What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Her voice cracked. "Vanessa. Your penthouse. Last night."
His silence was deafening.
"She wasn't there," he said finally, his voice tense. "I swear to you, Annie. I haven't seen her since the gala."
"Then how did she get photographed leaving your building?"
Another beat of silence. "She's setting this up."
Annie wanted to believe him—God, she did. But Vanessa was smart. Cunning.
"Tell me the truth, Alexander," she whispered. "Because I can't— I won't be made a fool of."
His voice dropped, firm and unwavering. "I have never lied to you. And I never will."
Her heart clenched.
"Then prove it," she whispered.
And with that, she hung up.
—
Meanwhile…
Vanessa smirked as she sipped her champagne. Oh, how easy it was.
She had never stepped foot inside Alexander's penthouse last night.
But the press didn't know that.
And neither did Annie.
—
Chapter Twenty-Four: The Breaking Point
Alexander didn't wait.
The second Annie hung up, he grabbed his coat and stormed out of his office, ignoring his assistant's calls. He had to fix this.
By the time he reached her apartment, his pulse was racing. He knocked—hard.
No answer.
"Annie," he called, his voice tense. "Open the door."
Silence.
He cursed under his breath. She was inside—he could feel it.
"Annie, please."
Finally, the lock clicked, and the door opened—just enough for him to see her face.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, her expression guarded. Hurt.
"You shouldn't be here," she murmured.
He exhaled sharply. "You shouldn't believe her."
Annie's grip on the door tightened. "Then explain the photos, Alexander. Explain how she just magically ended up leaving your penthouse last night."
"She wasn't there," he said firmly. "She staged it."
Annie let out a shaky breath, shaking her head. "That's convenient."
Frustration burned in his chest. "You think I'd do this to you? After everything?"
"I don't know what to think anymore!" she snapped, stepping back. "I know Vanessa is manipulative, but I also know that your world protects people like her. That it turns the truth into whatever looks best for people like you."
Alexander stepped forward, closing the space between them. Not touching her—just close enough for her to feel him.
"I don't care about my world," he said, voice low. "I care about you."
Her lower lip trembled. "I don't know if that's enough."
His chest ached at the uncertainty in her voice. She was slipping away.
He reached out, hesitating before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Tell me what you need from me," he murmured.
Annie swallowed hard. "I need to know this isn't a mistake."
He cupped her face gently, tilting it up so she had no choice but to see the truth in his eyes.
"It's not," he said, firm, unwavering. "And I'll prove it."
She didn't move. Didn't push him away.
But she didn't pull him closer, either.
And that terrified him more than anything.
—
Meanwhile…
Vanessa watched the chaos unfold from her penthouse, sipping her wine with a satisfied smirk.
She wasn't done yet.
If Annie thought this was bad?
She hadn't seen anything yet.
—
Chapter Twenty-Six: Holding On
Alexander wasn't letting her go.
Not now. Not ever.
Annie stood in her apartment, arms crossed, trying to keep the wall between them intact. But Alexander saw right through it.
"I told you I'd prove it to you," he said, his voice low and unwavering.
Annie let out a shaky breath. "Alexander, I—"
Before she could say another word, he stepped forward and took her face in his hands.
"Listen to me," he murmured. "I don't care what Vanessa does. I don't care what the press says. I care about you. I love you, Annie."
Her breath hitched. Love.
His thumb brushed her cheek as he searched her eyes. "And if you think I'm going to let Vanessa or anyone else take you from me, then you don't know me at all."
Her resolve cracked.
She had been holding on to fear, to doubt, but hearing him say those words—it shattered everything.
"Say it again," she whispered.
His hands tightened, his forehead pressing against hers.
"I love you," he repeated.
And suddenly, she was in his arms, clinging to him, letting herself believe.
He kissed her—deep, desperate, as if he was afraid she might slip away. But she wasn't running anymore.
Because he was holding onto her… and this time, she was holding onto him too.
—
Meanwhile…
Vanessa scrolled through her phone, eyes narrowing at the latest update.
Alexander's public declaration of love.
He hadn't just held onto Annie in private—he had made it clear to the world.
Her grip on her glass tightened.
If Annie thought this was over, she was dead wrong.
Because Vanessa wasn't just going to break them up.
She was going to destroy her.
—
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Vanessa's Revenge
Vanessa wasn't just angry—she was furious.
Alexander had publicly chosen Annie. Declared his love. And the media was eating it up, turning the struggling orphan into some kind of Cinderella.
Vanessa wasn't going to let that happen.
If Annie thought she had won, she was about to learn the hard way—Vanessa played to destroy.
—
Meanwhile…
Annie sat in Alexander's penthouse, curled up on the couch as she scrolled through her phone. For once, the headlines weren't against her.
"Alexander Carter's Public Declaration of Love: 'I Love You, Annie.'"
She still wasn't used to seeing her name in the press.
But just as a small smile formed, a new headline popped up.
And her stomach dropped.
"Annie Miller: The Gold-Digger Exposed?"
Heart pounding, she clicked on it.
The article was brutal. Cruel.
Fake bank statements, photos from an "escort site" with a model who vaguely resembled her, even a supposed "ex" claiming she used men for money.
Her hands shook as she scrolled.
This wasn't just gossip. It was a character assassination.
And she knew exactly who was behind it.
Her phone buzzed—Alexander.
She answered without a word.
"Annie, don't read anything—"
"Too late," she whispered, voice hollow.
Silence.
Then his voice, sharp with fury. "I'm handling this."
She swallowed hard. "What if it's too late?"
"It's not." His voice softened, but the steel remained. "I told you—I'm not letting anyone take you from me. Especially not Vanessa."
But Annie's chest ached.
Because what if love wasn't enough?
—
Meanwhile…
Vanessa leaned back in her chair, watching the chaos unfold.
"Oh, Annie," she murmured, smirking. "Let's see if you can survive this."
—
Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Reckoning
Alexander was done playing nice.
The second he saw the article, his jaw clenched, and a dangerous calm settled over him. He had tolerated Vanessa's games long enough.
But this?
She had crossed a line.
He dialed his lawyer. "Shut it down."
"Already on it," his attorney responded. "We're tracking the source of the article. But Alexander… this was calculated. Someone with serious connections fed this to the media."
Alexander's grip tightened around his phone. "I know exactly who it was."
Vanessa wanted a fight? She was about to get one.
—
Meanwhile…
Annie sat on the edge of Alexander's bed, staring at her phone as more headlines flooded in.
Her past was being rewritten.
A liar. A gold-digger. A woman who slept her way into wealth.
Her stomach twisted as she scrolled through hundreds of comments, strangers tearing her apart.
She knew Vanessa was behind this. But knowing didn't make it hurt any less.
The door opened, and Alexander was there.
His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something raw. Something dangerous.
He strode toward her, kneeling in front of her, cupping her face gently.
"I'm fixing this," he said, his voice low but firm. "You hear me?"
She blinked back the sting in her eyes. "Alexander, this could ruin you—"
"I don't care." His thumb brushed her cheek, his grip tightening as if grounding her. "What I care about is you."
Annie's breath hitched.
"Trust me," he murmured.
She swallowed hard, nodding. "I do."
And just like that, the fire inside him ignited.
—
The War Begins…
Alexander made one call—and by morning, the media firestorm had shifted.
The fake bank statements? Debunked.
The escort site? Fabricated.
The ex-boyfriend's claims? Proven false.
Then came the final blow.
A leaked recording of Vanessa.
—
Headline: "Vanessa Laurent Caught in a Scandalous Plot to Destroy Annie Miller!"
Vanessa's own voice played across the internet.
"If I can't have Alexander, then no one can. By the time I'm done, Annie will be nothing but a ruined little nobody."
The press exploded.
Suddenly, Vanessa wasn't the glamorous model anymore—she was the scheming ex.
And Alexander?
He stood in front of cameras, his arm wrapped around Annie, looking the world dead in the eye.
"Annie Miller is the woman I love. And I won't let anyone tear us apart."
—
Meanwhile…
Vanessa stared at her phone, her perfect life crumbling.
She had lost.
But as she threw her phone across the room, one dark thought remained.
This wasn't over.
Not yet.
—
Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Fall of Vanessa Laurent
The world turned against Vanessa fast.
The leaked recording went viral, playing on every major news outlet. The headlines were merciless:
"Vanessa Laurent: The Bitter Ex Exposed!"
"Supermodel Caught Plotting Against Alexander Carter's Girlfriend!"
"Vanessa's Career in Freefall – Brands Cutting Ties!"
Within twenty-four hours, she lost major endorsements. Designers pulled her from campaigns. The prestigious brands she once flaunted silently erased her name.
And the worst part? Alexander wasn't done.
—
Meanwhile…
Annie watched the chaos unfold from Alexander's penthouse, still trying to process it all.
"She's really losing everything," she murmured, staring at the screen.
Alexander, standing behind her, crossed his arms. "She deserves it."
"But… do you think she'll stop now?" Annie turned to face him, worry flickering in her eyes.
He let out a slow breath before stepping closer, cupping her chin gently. "She doesn't have a choice anymore."
And he was right.
Because at that moment—Vanessa's last safety net collapsed.
—
Vanessa's Breaking Point
She stormed into her manager's office, slamming a magazine down onto the desk.
"What the hell is this?" she demanded.
Her manager, an older man with tired eyes, barely glanced up. "Your career going up in flames."
Vanessa clenched her jaw. "Fix it."
He sighed. "Vanessa, no one wants to fix this. Do you understand? You're toxic now. Brands are cutting ties. Agencies are blacklisting you. Even your so-called friends aren't defending you."
Her stomach twisted.
"I can make a comeback," she insisted.
He shook his head. "Not this time. You went after the wrong people."
She felt her breath hitch. No. No, this wasn't supposed to happen.
She had spent years building her name, her image, her power.
And now, it was all gone.
She clenched her fists. "Alexander did this to me."
Her manager looked at her with pity. "No, Vanessa. You did this to yourself."
And with that, he walked away, leaving her alone.
Truly, completely alone.
—
Meanwhile…
Annie sat beside Alexander later that night, curling into his warmth.
"Do you think it's really over?" she asked softly.
He pressed a kiss to her hair. "Yes."
She let out a slow breath, finally allowing herself to believe it.
Vanessa had lost. For good.
And now, for the first time in what felt like forever—they were free.
—