Chapter 6---Pay Me Back!
1059 Words
Alice Casey froze.
Cecilia Mitchell stood paralyzed—not just because she had something to hide, but because she never imagined the usually gentle Alice would speak so sharply.
Alice didn't spare her any courtesy. Her gaze flicked to their linked arms. "Ms. Mitchell, do you believe you're more suited to stand beside my fiancé?"
Zachary Hawkins snapped back to reality and quickly pulled Cecilia's hand away.
Now even more humiliated, Cecilia forced a trembling smile. "Since Ms. Casey rarely attends such events, I was just helping Mr. Hawkins with the socializing. I apologize if I caused any misunderstanding."
"Are you implying I lack generosity?" Alice arched a brow.
Before Cecilia could defend herself, Alice cut in bluntly, "What I'm questioning is this: in the five minutes since we entered the hall, you've clung to my fiancé the entire time. It made me wonder—were you trying to declare your ownership right in front of me?"
Cecilia turned deathly pale. Bound by the power imbalance, she dared not raise her voice, only stammering apologies. "No, Ms. Casey! I simply misjudged the situation. I'll be more careful next time."
Alice let out a light, cold laugh.
Clearly, forgiveness was not on her mind.
Natalie Finley, watching nearby, was utterly dumbfounded. Was this the same Alice she knew?
Talk about unleashing her inner queen!
She'd once warned Alice that Cecilia was a sly fox, always clinging too close to Zachary—clearly up to no good.
But Alice had said she trusted Zachary, and Natalie had to admit, he did seem decent. So she'd let it go.
Still, she'd always despised Cecilia—relying on her modest looks and elite degree, landing a top assistant role at Casey Group so young, then strutting around with that snobbish, condescending air, subtly mocking women like them—aristocratic daughters—implying they were useless, born on third base.
Now, seeing Alice put her in her place publicly? Natalie couldn't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction.
"Alice." Zachary finally spoke, reaching for her hand.
Alice recoiled inwardly but held herself still.
"I didn't expect you to come. I'm truly delighted." He deliberately avoided mentioning the scene with Cecilia.
No defense for her. No explanation for why he'd let it happen.
Zachary was a master of deflection.
And Alice, too, stayed silent. Scolding Cecilia had already bruised his pride. Pushing further now would only backfire.
"Come, I'll introduce you to my parents. They've been eager to meet you." His smile was soft, as always.
Alice nodded, murmured a word to Natalie, then linked arms with Zachary and walked into the hall.
A striking couple—drawing glances from every corner.
"Alice Casey truly lives up to being Nyxaria's most beautiful woman. I thought it was just hype."
"This is my first time seeing her in person. I was afraid she wouldn't match the legend—but I was wrong."
"I used to think she wasn't good enough for Zachary Hawkins, but now? She might just outshine him."
The whispers reached their ears.
Back when Alice rarely appeared and Zachary shone so brightly, people in Kaldryn assumed she didn't measure up.
Now, hearing these words, Zachary felt a sharp pang of displeasure.
He always needed to be the center. He couldn't tolerate criticism—or anyone outshining him. Not even Alice.
But he was skilled at hiding it. No one noticed.
They greeted his parents with polite formality.
Alice used to believe the Hawkins family genuinely cared—asking after her health, showing kindness. Later, she learned it was all a ruse to gain her trust and steal her inheritance.
She masked her feelings and played her part.
The hall buzzed with guests. As one of the Four Great Families, the Hawkins were constantly surrounded by sycophants. Slowly, Alice slipped away—unnoticed. And when she did, Zachary didn't even realize she was gone.
She used to excuse it—work consumed him, his neglect was forgivable.
She used to make endless excuses…
Alice turned toward the garden.
She never liked crowded places. The moment she stepped into the garden, the tension eased—until
"Ms. Casey." A voice cut through the quiet, startling her.
She turned. A man emerged from the shadows.
Cool gray suit. Crisp white shirt. Silver-gray tie. The bold cut and monochrome palette, paired with his sharp, chiseled features, made him breathtaking—mesmerizing at first glance.
Alice subtly averted her gaze. "What are you doing here?"
"I've been waiting for you." Raymond Landry's lips curled into a knowing smile.
Waiting? For what?
And how did he know she'd come here?
"Do you need something?" Alice asked, calm and composed.
"Give me back the card." Raymond's tone was direct.
Alice's expression shifted slightly.
Of course. She should've known better than to expect decency from him.
"Aren't you supposed to be generous with women?" she countered.
"So you're reminding me you're already mine?" Raymond leaned in, his presence intense, almost predatory.
Alice stepped back.
Raymond laughed, lazy and mocking.
"You're such a womanizer," Alice snapped. "The card's at home. I'll return it next time."
She turned to leave.
Reborn, her purpose was clear. No time for indulgence. She needed to learn how to navigate high society.
Just then, she saw Zachary step out of the hall.
He'd just noticed she was missing—come looking for her.
When he saw her, his face darkened—clearly expecting her to quietly and patiently stay by his side, no matter what.
But in an instant, his mask slipped back into place. His voice softened. "Why are you out here alone? I was worried when I couldn't find you."
"I felt stifled. Came out for air. Was about to return," Alice said with a faint smile.
"Next time, let me come with you." He pulled her into a possessive embrace.
Alice stiffened—especially under Raymond's gaze, which made her skin crawl.
She couldn't read his expression, but it stirred an odd guilt.
Clearly. They were only business partners.
Zachary noticed Raymond's stare. Still polished, he extended a hand. "Mr. Raymond Landry, you're here too? Long time no see."
Raymond glanced at him—didn't take the hand.
Cold, aloof, he walked past them, tossing back one final line: "Mr. Hawkins, your fiancée is stunning. You'd better keep a tight hold on her."
- Writer
