Chapter 155/No more Vincetti

Chapter 155: 155/No more Vincetti

Chapter 155

**Stephanie’s Point of View**

Alexander suddenly stopped turning the ignition key. He turned his entire towering frame toward me, his eyes painting a complex mixture of surprise and profound anxiety as he closely watched the telltale trembling of my lips, which I was completely unable to conceal or hide. A sudden, suffocating silence blanketed the car’s interior, broken only by my rapid, panting breaths and the sound of light rain beginning to tap in a rhythmic pattern against the windshield.

His large, warm hand extended to tenderly encircle my cold, clamped hand resting in terror on my thigh. He squeezed my fingers very gently, trying to pour security into my veins as he spoke: "Stephanie... darling, what’s wrong? Ever since you came out of the restroom corridor at the restaurant, you haven’t been yourself at all, and turmoil completely possesses you... Did Dominic upset you with his words or his dry manner in any way? Or has the dizziness and exhaustion intensified to this suffocating degree because of the pregnancy?"

I swallowed the hot lump in my throat with a searing pain, feeling hot, salty tears fill my eyes, on the verge of spilling over from the oppression and bottled-up pressure I had lived through during the past hour between the jaws of that monster. I shook my head in a definitive, rapid denial to completely deflect suspicions away from that bastard, fearing a massacre would erupt between the two friends. I said in a choked, raspy voice that emerged with difficulty: "No... Mr. Vincente has absolutely nothing to do with the matter... I just... I felt extreme fear and panic because of the responsibility of carrying twins, and I suddenly remembered the doctor’s words at the hospital about the absolute necessity of total rest and avoiding any exertion... and working at the company is already draining all my psychological and physical energy, and I can no longer bear it."

Alexander exhaled a deep sigh from his broad chest. His other hand extended lightly to wipe away a burning tear that had escaped my eye in helpless defeat with the tip of his thumb, then he smiled: "This decision to step away from work is entirely up to you, Steph. I was already worried about you under those daily pressures, and I wasn’t comfortable at all with the idea of you going down there in this sensitive condition, but I simply respected your desire to rely on yourself. If you want to resign, I will personally accompany you next Monday morning to the company headquarters to settle the matter with management."

"No!"

The word tore from my mouth with a sudden panic and intense violence that he absolutely did not expect. Alexander recoiled his head slightly, signs of bewilderment and suspicion etching onto his features clearly once more. I tried to salvage the deadly situation with frantic speed, swallowing my dry saliva as I spoke in a calmer tone, trying to dye it with logic: "I mean... there’s absolutely no need for you to come with me and leave your important business... I will send my resignation text officially and directly via email, or I’ll contact the Human Resources department to end everything quietly... I don’t want to cause a stir, draw attention, or embarrass you in front of your close friend Dominic because of my sudden and, to him, unjustified withdrawal."

He looked at me intently and scrutinizingly for seconds that stretched like an eternity, as if trying with his sharp intelligence to read the hidden lines and intentions behind my blatant agitation and trembling. Finally, he nodded his head and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead: "As you wish and feel comfortable, my love... The most important and fundamental thing to me right now is your complete rest and the safety of our two upcoming children. Let’s go home."

He started the engine powerfully, and the car took off, slicing through the dark city streets under the faint, blurry glow of streetlights dimmed by the rain. I rested my exhausted, heavy head against the cold glass of the window, while my mind boiled with thoughts and my eyes tracked the raindrops sliding down slowly like tears. I felt a temporary relief and a small sense of victory; at least I wouldn’t have to see Dominic Vincente’s face again in my life, and I wouldn’t be at the mercy of his sadistic influence in that cursed office anymore. I would sever every single wretched string linking me to him with my own hands, with no turning back.

The car turned smoothly inside the massive, guarded iron gates of the mansion, pulling up flawlessly under the outer canopy. I exhaled a deep sigh of relief as I looked at the walls of the house; I felt as if I had finally, miraculously escaped a hangman’s noose that had been tightening securely around my neck all evening at the restaurant.

But, right before my trembling fingers could touch the door handle to get out, the sharp, loud, and sudden ring of Alexander’s phone pierced the air. His large hand stiffened over the steering wheel in an involuntary movement. He quickly pulled the phone from his pocket to glance at the caller’s name on the illuminated screen. His features contracted completely, a harshness settling over his face, and he pressed the answer button with a rigid motion, speaking in a low, sharp voice carrying the undertone of death: "Yes... what exactly is it?"

Silence reigned for seconds while he listened intently to the other side. During those terrifying moments, I saw the veins of his massive hand bulge and tense violently against the phone from the sheer pressure and rage, his blue eyes narrowing with a dark, terrifying spark. Suddenly, he spoke in a decisive tone, cutting like a blade: "Hold him there... I’m coming to you right now."

He fell silent again as the person on the other end responded quickly, but Alexander’s features shifted completely and terrifyingly; the dark, cold, and bloody side of his personality as a ruthless mafia king emerged. He ground his teeth with a sharp, audible crunch, shouting in a roaring tone, barely suppressing his rage due to my presence: "I told you I’m coming myself! Do not act on your own accord or touch him at all before I arrive!"

He slammed the line shut violently, throwing the phone carelessly and angrily into the center console, while his broad chest rose and fell with rapid, burning, and furious breaths from the sheer intensity of his agitation.

I looked at him with genuine apprehension and terror, gripping the seatbelt with violently trembling fingers, and asked in a low, faltering voice: "Who was that caller? What’s the matter?"