Chapter 119 Moral Ransom
Victoria stood in stunned silence. An employee had just informed her that he had come looking for her. She was perplexed, her mind swirling with questions.
What more could he possibly want from her? Hadn't he already subjected her to the relentless pressure of that woman? Wasn't it enough to have his mistress pressuring her? Was she the one that did not want the divorce? Was she the one holding a moral ransom over him?
Suddenly, she felt a familiar presence approaching. She turned, her vision blurred but certain. It was him. Her gaze locked onto his figure, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Mr. Harrington," she acknowledged, her voice barely above a whisper.
The staff member sighed with relief upon his arrival. "You can leave," Alexander instructed, reaching out to take Victoria's hand. She tried to pull away, but his grip was firm. "What happened?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.
He was asking her what happened. . But what incident? All she could think of was that woman, eager for a divorce, scheming to take her place. "Alexander, I want a divorce," she declared, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.
She was tired of being hounded by that woman. She despised her, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. But she refused to let herself appear as a hot-tempered, scorned wife. She would maintain her dignity, no matter what.
Alexander studied her tear-streaked face, her eyes stubborn and resolute. He glanced outside, then suggested, "Let's discuss this back home."
"No, we'll talk here," she insisted, shaking off his hand and stepping back. She had no intention of going anywhere with him. The word 'back' was too intimate; he had no right to use it with her.
"Here? Are you sure?" Alexander asked, glancing around the room.
Just then, a client happened to walk by. "Mr. Harrington, long time no see," he greeted.
Victoria's heart skipped a beat. But Alexander was already greeting the man with a warm smile. "Indeed, it's been a while. Joining your wife for dinner?"
"Absolutely, she loves the Southern cuisine your chef whips up, says it's just like back home," the man replied.
"It's very similar to where we're from," the wife chimed in.
Alexander responded with a polite, shallow smile. "Thank you for commending our hotel's chef. James, please take good care of Mr. and Mrs. Wilson."
"Of course, Mr. Harrington," the employee who had stopped Victoria earlier responded, now promptly and politely attending to the couple.
"And this lady is...?" Mrs. Wilson asked, her gaze shifting to Victoria, her eyes red and swollen. She remembered the recent online buzz about Alexander being married.
"Oh, she's my..." Alexander began, but was cut off by Mr. Wilson.
"Hey, don't tell me you don't recognize Victoria? She's Mr. Harrington's new secretary– Victoria. Right, and also a distinguished guest of the Harrington Family, isn't that right, Mr. Harrington?" Mr. Wilson interjected.
Alexander had already taken Victoria's hand. An awkward silence fell over them. Mr. Wilson looked embarrassed; Alexander, internally agitated.
"What guest? She's my…" he began, but Victoria quietly withdrew her hand.
"Our families go back generations," she explained, offering a polite smile.
Alexander turned to look at her, a hint of helplessness in his eyes. It felt to him as if he'd thrown a punch expecting to hit a rock, only to strike a cotton ball instead.
After Mr. and Mrs. Wilson left, Alexander found himself rooted to the spot. "Why didn't you tell them you're my wife?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Victoria looked at him, her smile faint. "Why would you ruin me, Mr. Harrington? I need to remarry, don't I?"
His eyes narrowed instantly. Remarry? "Repeat that?" he demanded, stepping closer, leaning in to listen.
"I said I plan to remarry. Mr. Harrington, I hope you won’t make a spectacle of our marriage."
"A spectacle?" he repeated, incredulous. He was such a spectacle that no one knew she was his wife. How conspicuous indeed.
"Yes, I hope no one finds out that we are married. I want your cooperation, Mr. Harrington."
With that, she caught a glimpse of the person behind him and, without saying goodbye, she turned and hurried away.
Alexander stood with his hands on his hips, watching her retreating figure. After a moment, he started to follow at a leisurely pace.
"Alex."
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