THE LONELY ALPHA

Chapter 2; Meeting the M.A CEO

~Albert Ros~

I acknowledged him with a nod and then c****d my head to take a glance at the sturdy bed.

After looking for her for many centuries, I finally located her when I got back to my city a few days ago. This was the first time I had seen her in all those years.

After everything that she had done to me, stealing my love bead and making me wait for thousands of years, I had no interest in being with a woman. The only thing I cared about was finding out why she took my love bead and wouldn't give it back to me.

As a direct consequence of this, the little slut who was Mia Mondragon feigned the entire time that she had passed away and was unaware of everything that was going on. It was tough for me to locate her once she had done that.

When I thought about this, all of a sudden, my sight began to sink, as if it were falling into a dry, dead, and endless pit. I set the exquisite cup I had been holding down, and I saw that the wine had not yet been consumed from inside the vessel.

~Mia Mondragon POV~

I strolled down the steps slowly to the M.A Empire State Building. As a gold medal reporter, I always have a method to occupy the most favourable position and get the most flawless headlines. I am always one step ahead of my competition.

"One hundred and fifty-eight... Five hundred ninety points... When I heard, "It's coming!" I was in the middle of jotting something down in my little notebook when I heard it.

After waiting in this area for some time, a big number of reporters and photographers descended onto the site. A Maybach was moving along at a leisurely pace.

They came down the air conditioning pitch at the same time as the passengers in the automobile, who also descended it at the same time.

It was as if there were an invisible aura between me, and the oppressive individuals that were around me, which caused me to be unable to breathe.

Everyone was crowded around me to hear the latest information, and I was the only one who could be seen resting against the pillar with nothing to do. He regarded the assembled journalists as if they were children and looked down on them. Having to do business with someone, "Albert Ros"

How am I supposed to get my hands on the exclusive headlines if there aren't any unique means? When I turned to look around, I saw a woman observing everything that was taken on while she sat in her vehicle drinking coffee. I sped up to her and immediately begged for the coffee, which she graciously provided without any hesitation.

Indeed, all of the surrounding reporters were prevented from getting a good look at what was going on by the bodyguards. Albert Ros was accompanied by two more individuals as they entered the building enterprise.

My cheeks flushed, the window of opportunity presented itself, and I made a concerted effort to leave as quickly as possible. I collided head-on with Albert Ros before the other two guys could even respond to the situation.

After that, the coffee that I was holding in my hand spilled all over him.

"Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't intend it, did it burn you?"

I claimed to be helpful and haphazardly stroked Albert Ros's body while also seeming to be friendly. Two of his guys were enraged and made many attempts to get me to leave the area.

When Albert Ros first laid eyes on me, he seemed shocked, and then a pair of his normally dark eyes suddenly lit up with a brilliant light.

"You two getaway!" He drank in private, away from his employees, and focused his attention on how I was scurrying about to speak to him: "Don't you have any other means?" He question me.

I gave a cheerful nod and said, "I'm sorry, I..."

Albert Ros abruptly cut me off mid-sentence, saying, "Come to my office!" before I had the chance to continue my sentence.

"What!"

I was under the impression that this was the best chance for me to speak with the illustrious Albert Ros; nevertheless, I'm not sure why I had the impression that it was so simple to get in touch with him. I did not give it any thought as I eagerly and swiftly followed Albert Ros, and I followed him into the president's elevator so that I could follow him upstairs.

On the outside, a bunch of whiney reporters seemed to be on the verge of collapsing from jealousy, but this isn't anything I'm worried about. As I proudly lifted my chin, the elevator doors on both sides of the car began to shut. There were just the two of us crammed into this little room.

The atmosphere is very low, extremely dismal, as cold as the frigid winter moon, and nearly full of snow.

"Can't find my bead? Where is it?"

"What?" I was confused and wondered which bead he was referring to since I was under the impression that I had misunderstood him.

Is there anything wrong with this guy, it's rather perplexing?

It makes no difference, though, since the voice recorder will capture all that is spoken, and regardless of the attention-grabbing news that he discloses, it will be my exclusive headline.

"Do you still intend to act as if you have no idea of what I am talking about? You took my priceless bead, don't you want to give it back, and I can't locate it on you."

I was so close to passing out from my saliva that it nearly killed me.

After that, when I was in the right frame of mind, I was able to gaze at him directly, without the dark veil that covers his face in the internet images.

The face of Albert Ros seems to be flawless and immaculate while yet being gorgeous and craggy.

On the other hand, this is not the point at all. The important thing is that I discovered that there is no difference between him and the face of the guy in my spring dream.

Indeed, I didn't get a good look at it in my dreams, but my gut instinct told me it was this face!

"Excuse me, Sir, but I do not follow what you are saying; please explain." I tried to clear my throat by swallowing my saliva.

The expression on Albert Ros's face got more ominous, and the temperature in the elevator dropped to a new low.

I was caught off guard as he reached out and grabbed my neck.

The door to the elevator opened at that moment.

Albert Ros took a quick peek at it before avoiding eye contact with my neck. He dragged me out of the elevator and brought me into his office like I was a chicken.

The office is enormous, with floor-to-ceiling windows that take up virtually the whole wall space. Additionally, the décor style is a mix of American and European influences, with a strong emphasis on the room.

I was dragged into Albert Ros's office, where he immediately locked the door behind him and slammed it. I was in a hurry to go, but I ran into the door with my head, turned around, and ran into a sturdy chest. I was knocked unconscious.

"What are your intentions for the evening?"

The gorgeous features of a person who has been in my springtime dreams in the past seem familiar, but I was not swayed by their charm. Because I had no idea what was going on, I found that I was completely unable to control the angry look that spread over my face.

" Do you recall what happened to you three days ago?"

My hearing was suddenly greeted by the allure of an alluring voice. I tried to calm myself down by closing my eyes and concentrating on my breathing.

"Three days ago, well, three days ago, it wasn't a dream. It did happen. It was the day when a tail suddenly sprang out of your rear end in the middle of the night."

As soon as I heard those words, I felt a complete and total cessation of my heartbeat. Does this imply that Albert Ros is aware of the fact that I have a secret identity?

That begs the question, how come? When confronted with so many questions, my mind becomes unsettled, and I have the sensation that I'm going to disappear into the earth, especially considering that I can't even recall what took place three days ago.

"That's not even the whole story. Do you recall the one-on-one dates with strangers?

A few days ago, you were extended an invitation to visit the Presidential Suite at the most opulent and five-star hotel in the city. At first, I simply wanted to cope with it, but I didn't imagine that after having a glass of red wine, the entire person would be bad.

"What!"