Chapter 140 He Said Thank You
With a frosty glance, he turned away from her, his figure receding into the distance.
Victoria stood in silence, the tension radiating off her in palpable waves.
As she neared the elevator, she hesitated, uncertainty holding her in its grip.
Upon exiting the building, Charleston caught sight of Alexander, who was also waiting for the elevator. Victoria, a blend of reluctance and loneliness etched in her posture, moved towards him.
She didn't want to return home, yet she found herself stepping into his car.
Her instinct was to take the front seat, but Alexander intervened, guiding her to the backseat instead.
He had indulged in a drink and was unfit to drive.
Thus, he took the backseat, and despite her sobriety, she was compelled to join him.
As the driver pulled away, an eerie silence enveloped the car.
She shifted to the side, taking a seat there.
Alexander noticed her subtle retreat, casting her a frosty side-glance before returning his gaze to the world outside.
He had no intention of engaging with her further.
After all, she had a knack for attracting the affection of men, everyone's but his.
Upon reaching home, Alexander made a beeline for the stairs.
Victoria watched his retreating figure, making no move to follow.
Feeling the pangs of hunger, she proceeded to the living room to deposit her bag before heading to the kitchen.
Assuming they had dined out, their nanny had left for the evening to the Harrington family's old mansion. In the kitchen, Victoria found some spaghetti.
When Alexander discovered her in the kitchen, she was on the brink of preparing the spaghetti, her focus entirely on the task at hand.
"Cook some for me too," he requested.
Startled by his unexpected voice, she glanced his way. Seeing the aloof Alexander, she wordlessly added more spaghetti to the pot. As she cooked, a sudden thought struck her—since his return, where was Isabella?
Despite her curiosity, Victoria didn't dare to probe. However, when his phone rang, he answered it right there, declaring, "I'm home now, no more calls tonight."
After ending the call, he materialized behind her. Victoria stiffened, a shiver coursing down her spine as she felt Alexander's silent presence looming close, watching her cook.
She quickly plated the servings and suggested, "You could go wait at the dining table."
"It's fine. I'll wait here," Alexander responded nonchalantly, maintaining his watchful stance.
Victoria felt the weight of Alexander's intense gaze, as if it were drilling a hole through her. Was he oblivious to the oppressive strength of his aura, the pressure it exerted on those around him?
Once the spaghetti was ready, they took their seats across from each other at the dining table, each engrossed in their own plate. Victoria reached for the hot sauce, generously adding it to her dish.
"Hit me with some of that," Alexander Harrington requested, glancing over.
Victoria eyed his buttered bread, nudged the hot sauce towards him, indicating that he could help himself. After all, he was perfectly capable.
Alexander shot her a cool glance before reaching for the hot sauce. What was her problem, getting all flustered over nothing?
He couldn't comprehend why she would harbor any resentment towards him, especially when she was the one constantly stirring the pot, drawing all the wrong kinds of attention.
Cough, cough.
He had just taken a bite of his spicy spaghetti when he choked, the hot sauce proving to be spicier than anticipated.
Looking up, his eyes twinkled like stars as he watched Victoria hastily rise, as if in search of something.
"Here."
She returned, extending a glass of ice-cold milk towards him. Alexander's expression was a complex blend of reluctant acceptance and sheer disbelief, and then...
"Thank you," he managed to say.
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