One Night Mistake… Now I Carry the Mafia Heir

Chapter 81: 81/The Alpha’s Condemnation

Chapter 81

Stephanie’s Point of View

The blood froze in my veins as I listened to his words, which struck me like a lightning bolt. Alexander approached me with steady, confident steps, carrying a weight I had never witnessed in him before, until he stood directly in front of me. His towering height cast a shadow over me, and he looked into my eyes with a glacial coldness that sent a suspicious shiver through my entire body. "I haven’t changed, Stephanie," he said in a resonant, terrifying tone. "I’ve been this way since the very beginning."

I felt my heart constrict as if an invisible hand were squeezing it. "No... that’s not true," I said, my voice trembling as I tried to cling to the last threads of the image I had crafted for him in my mind. "You were never like this. You were tender... you were that understanding person who always held me together."

A mocking side-smile played on his face, his features slanting with coldness as he tilted his head slightly to meet my broken eyes. "Did I really change, Stephanie? Or were you just blind to the truth because you wanted to believe the lie of the gentle man?" he asked in a low voice, then reached out to stroke my hair with a veiled harshness. "I told you before... I was the one who allowed you to rebel. I was the one who gave you the rope to let you think you had authority over me, simply because I wanted to see how deep your love for me could go while you were free. Did you really think my love for you was a weakness you could manipulate, Steph?"

I shook my head left and right in a desperate motion. "No... I swear I never thought that," I said with weakness and brokenness.

But he didn’t back down. He continued to pierce my gaze with his dark eyes as if reading every distorted thought in my depths. He followed up with a confident tone that stripped me of all my defenses: "Yes, you did. In fact, you loved Alexander ’the Professor’... that man who gave you a secret thrill when he punished you in high school, when he imposed his authority and dominance over you and forced you to submit. I am still that same person, Steph. I haven’t changed a bit. But for your sake, and because I love you in my own way, I gave you a golden opportunity to feel like you held the reins, to taste power. But you, with your weakness before Cedric and your submission to him, completely wasted that chance."

I tried to speak, tried to protest this accusation that tore at my dignity. "Alex... please, I..."

But he cut me off with a sharp, sword-like sternness. He drew closer until the distance between us vanished and I felt his hot breath fanning my face. He whispered with a threatening hiss: "As I told you before... you are a woman who loves to be stripped of her will. You crave bowing before a dominant ’Alpha’ who breaks your stubbornness. And since you’ve chosen this path, I am returning to my true nature, Steph... the nature you fear and adore at the same time."

A heavy silence filled the room. I felt the walls closing in on me, realizing that Alexander—the man I thought was my refuge from Cedric’s hell—had finally decided to open the gates of his own.

Damn him, he reads me like an open book. He knows exactly where my weaknesses lie and what makes me lose every ounce of control when I’m in his hands. I felt a slight tremor in my limbs, fearing he’d glimpse my surrender, so I immediately retreated a few steps, trying to regain my balance before drowning in his vortex again. "Tell me..." I said, my voice forced into steadiness as a desperate attempt to change the subject. "What is the name of the fashion and design company your friend owns?"

"Vincetti," he replied with total coldness while adjusting his wristwatch.

I froze in place, my eyes widening in shock. "Do you mean ’Vincetti’? The most famous brand in New York? Does your friend really own it?"

"Yes, that’s the one," he said with a provocative simplicity, as if talking about a small neighborhood shop.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "Fine. I’m going to message them right now," I said with resolve.

He gave me a scrutinizing look, tilting his head slightly as he asked in a challenging tone: "Are you sure you don’t want me to put in a word for you? It wouldn’t take more than a few seconds."

"No, I don’t," I replied with sternness and defiance, trying to prove my independence. "I’ll rely on my own effort."

He shrugged with a lethal indifference. "As you wish," he said, before turning and entering the bathroom, leaving behind the scent of his cologne that was choking me with its masculinity.

I headed immediately for my large black bag, which I had explicitly told the maid not to touch or empty. I opened it with shaking hands and pulled out my laptop. As soon as I typed the company name into the search bar, I felt a sharp knot in my stomach. The competition there was fierce, and I never had the audacity to even dream of walking through their doors. Damn it, do I have a real chance?

I hesitated for a few seconds, actually considering calling Alex and accepting his offer, but I whispered to myself sharply: "No, Steph. Stand on your own feet. You have to try by yourself first." This wasn’t just a job; it was my ticket out of the pressures of this palace and the conflicts between the brothers that were eating my soul. I hit the send button, submitting my saved CV, praying with a pounding heart that my application would stand out among thousands of others.

I closed the laptop quickly and pulled my leather portfolio from the bag. I began flipping through the sketches I had spent long nights perfecting. Would they catch their eye? I grabbed my phone and called Kyra immediately. "Kyra, where are you now?" I asked with clear eagerness.

"I’m at home, what’s wrong?" she answered calmly.

"I’m coming to you right now," I said, moving quickly to get ready. "I have a mountain of stories to tell you, and I need your help with something vital."

"Alright, Steph. I’m waiting for you."

I gripped my portfolio tightly; I needed Kyra’s artistic eye before any potential interview. I trusted her taste blindly. I left the suite and descended the stairs with confident steps, finding Grandpa Victor sitting with his usual dignity alone at the breakfast table. "Good morning, Grandpa. How are you today?" I asked with a soft smile, hiding my tension.

"I’m fine, my daughter. Thank you for your kind question," he replied with a warm smile.

Just as I sat down, Cedric suddenly appeared with his commanding presence, wearing a tight black shirt and jeans that emphasized the darkness of his overwhelming aura. My heart rate accelerated against my will, and my body stiffened at the sight of him. "Good morning," he said with his usual coldness.

"Good morning, Cedric," Grandpa Victor replied.

Cedric pulled out a chair and sat down, but before he could begin his breakfast, his eyes fell on the large leather portfolio I had placed beside me. "What is this folder?" he asked with sharp curiosity, narrowing his eyes.

"It’s a portfolio containing some fashion designs I’ve drawn," I said, trying to mask my nervousness.

He didn’t wait for my permission; he picked up the folder and began flipping through the pages very slowly. A heavy silence hung over the table. Then, suddenly, he spoke in a tone that held genuine admiration he couldn’t hide: "Did you really draw this? The details are incredible. You are talented beyond expectations."

"Thank you," I whispered, feeling the heat of a blush.

But he suddenly furrowed his brows and asked suspiciously: "But why did you bring this folder to the breakfast table? I don’t understand the purpose of that."

At that exact moment, Alexander’s firm, confident voice echoed as he slowly descended the stairs, answering on my behalf: "Because she has decided to start her career as a professional fashion designer."

The words dropped like a bomb. Cedric’s eyes widened in sheer surprise. He turned to me sharply, looking directly into my eyes as he repeated in shock and condemnation: "Work?! You mean you’re going out to work outside this palace?!"