Chapter 203 On the Brink
A cloying sweetness clung to Alexander Harrington's throat, almost unbearable, yet he maintained a cool, impassive gaze as he looked at her. "Consider this coffee a birthday present," he offered.
Her response was absent, but she seemed to take his silence as a sign of approval. With a tray in her arms, she spun on her heel and sauntered out of the room, an air of haughtiness trailing behind her. Isabella Montgomery, unable to contain her curiosity, questioned, "What's with her?"
"It's nothing," Alexander replied nonchalantly, taking another sip of his coffee before gently setting the cup aside.
"Is the coffee that good?" Isabella suddenly stood up and approached him.
As she reached for the cup, Alexander swiftly picked it up again, taking another sip. "You shouldn’t have coffee when you’re pregnant," he cautioned.
"Just a taste," she insisted.
"That's out of the question. You wouldn't want your baby to come out coffee-colored, would you?"
Isabella was left speechless, but couldn't help but laugh at his remark.
Alexander, however, was unsure what she found so amusing.
The person at the office door had to compose themselves before knocking again. "Mr. Harrington, Mr. Baker is here."
Recognizing the voice, Alexander sighed in exasperation, rubbing his forehead with his thumb. "Let him in," he commanded.
"Please, Mr. Baker." Victoria opened the door to let the executive in.
"What can I get you to drink, Mr. Baker?"
"An Americano will be fine, thank you, Miss Kensington."
"My pleasure." Victoria responded with a smile, then closed the door behind her without giving Alexander another glance.
Alexander was aware of her displeasure, but for some reason, he felt slightly better.
"Miss Montgomery is here too," Mr. Baker noted, surprised to see Isabella but quickly warmed up and extended his hand for a shake.
"Mr. Baker, long time no see," Isabella greeted him, reciprocating the handshake.
"Indeed, it’s been a while since you two got back," Mr. Baker responded, and the trio settled in for a chat.
When Victoria returned, she overheard Mr. Baker's inquiry. "Isn't it about time you two tied the knot? Maybe I should stick around for a few more days to attend your wedding before I leave?"
"I'd love that, but with Mr. Harrington's busy schedule, I'm afraid the wedding will have to wait," Isabella replied gracefully, her hand resting on Alexander's.
However, as Alexander felt the touch of her hand on his, his forced smile faltered into a frown. He quickly withdrew his hand and looked up at Victoria, who had just entered with the coffee. He abruptly stood up. "Take this contract to the 15th floor," he ordered.
Victoria had just put down the coffee when he handed her a document.
"Yeah, sure," she responded, stepping forward to take it, but somehow, she couldn't grasp it.
Confused, she looked up at him, unable to decipher his thoughts as he held onto the paper without letting go.
"Mr. Harrington," she called out, unable to contain herself.
He then looked up and stared straight at her, asking seriously, "Where are you going tonight?"
Victoria was taken aback and suddenly found herself unable to utter a word. What did her whereabouts have to do with him?
On one hand, he got cozy with her in her own bed, claiming there was nothing between him and that woman, and yet on the other hand, he talked about marrying her.
Snatching the document from his grip, she hugged it to her chest. "I'm off to deliver this," she said, dismissing everything else as if she hadn't heard a thing.
But there stood Alexander Harrington, knowing she was probably jealous, yet feeling utterly agitated inside.
"You guys continue," he said, his hands on his hips. After a few seconds of thought, he left Mr. Baker and Isabella chatting and stepped out quickly to follow Victoria.
As Victoria entered the elevator, she stood there numbly, clutching the documents, with a heavy feeling in her eyes threatening to spill out.
But she was determined not to cry.
She didn't love him anyway.
Suddenly, there was a loud bang in front of her, pulling her from her thoughts.
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