Chapter 121
Howard swept back into the banquet hall with a self–assured stride, Sophia, Megan, and Marco tagging along behind him like a trio of dutiful followers.
By this point, most seats were taken, save for the last few at Alex’s table, shoved right into the dingy corner of the
room.
Left with no other option, they joined Alex once more, looking like they’d just been sentenced to do time.
Determined to pretend he didn’t exist, they sank into the chairs.
Megan leaned over, her excitement barely contained.
“Oh my God, Marco, you totally pulled it off! That was incredible!”
Sophia’s expression softened in gratitude as she looked at Marco.
“Yes We owe it all to Mr. Ashford. If it weren’t for his help, we wouldn’t be here.”
Megan threw Alex a cutting glare, resentment flaring in her eyes.
She still hadn’t forgotten how he’d supposedly ruined their day.
“Exactly! Mr. Ashford is so damn talented he solved our issue with a single phone call! Unlike some people.”
Marco flashed a modest grin, though the smugness plastered on his face said otherwise.
The truth was, he himself was stunned at how neatly everything came together.
Since when was Charles Kingston this reliable?
The guy was a certified train wreck–always bungling every single job and lazy to boot.
If Marco hadn’t needed his help so badly, he’d have sooner called a telemarketer.
Unable to contain her scorn, Megan turned to Alex, lips curled into a sneer.
“See this, Alex? This is the difference between you and Mr. Ashford.”
Alex sighed wearily.
Megan’s voice oozed sarcasm. “He snatched back our partnership in one measly phone call. Meanwhile, you’re just a walking disaster. You’re an expert at dragging us through the mud, but that’s about it!”
Marco chuckled, the sound laced with mockery.
“Hey, go easy on him, Megan. The guy’s special skills are limited to brown–nosing and blaming everyone but himself.”
Megan gave a contemptuous snort.
“Please. As if he has anything else going for him. He’s nothing more than a traitor, a boy toy, and a worthless freeloader.”
She leaned closer, her voice going icy and low. “Too bad that bitchy broad he clings to isn’t here to see what a sorry excuse for a man she picked.”
A flash of cold steel shone in Alex’s eyes.
He kept his voice calm but razor–sharp. “Finished airing your grievances yet? I came here to enjoy the music, not
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listen to your drivel.”
“Oh, can’t handle the truth?” Megan jeered.
“If you had half of Mr. Ashford’s prowess, you wouldn’t be crawling around like a stray dog whenever someone calls you out. Face it, Alex. You’re a lost cause.”
Alex’s expression hardened.
He wasn’t the attention–seeking type, but he sure as hell wouldn’t stand for blatant disrespect.
He wasn’t a saint, and he wasn’t a punching bag.
“Really?” Alex tilted his head, voice low and challenging. “Then enlighten me–what is Marco actually capable of?”
Megan snapped her gaze toward him, condescending glare locked on target.
“Mr. Ashford made one phone call that got us back in the Kingston family’s good books. If that’s not skill, I don’t know what is.”
“How do you know for sure it was him?” Alex asked, cutting to the chase. “You got any real proof?”
Megan bristled, eyes fierce. “Who else would it be? Certainly not you, the clown who got us booted out in the first place. If I were a guy, I’d have already decked you so hard you’d beg for forgiveness.”
She tossed her hair back, the very picture of contempt.
“Alex,” Marco interjected with that smug drawl, “why on earth would the Kingstons suddenly reverse their decision if not for me?”
“That’s right,” Megan jumped in, her smile dripping mockery. “It’s obvious, so why don’t you finally drop the act?”
Alex’s face remained impassive, his voice unwavering.
“Don’t get too big for your britches. If I were you, I’d double–check before applauding the wrong hero.”
Megan crossed her arms, rolling her eyes skyward. “Sounds like plain old jealousy to me.‘
Alex shrugged, unbothered. “If that’s how you want to spin it.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed, and a disdainful smirk twisted his lips.
“”
“You want proof, huh? Fine. Let’s entertain your ridiculous theory. But if you lose, you’d better get the hell out of here.”
“No problem,” Alex replied, cool as a cucumber.
With a flourish, Marco whipped out his phone and dialed Charles Kingston.
“Hey, Charles,” he said, in a tone dripping with confidence.
“What now?” Charles snapped on the other end, clearly in a foul mood.
“Nothing big. Just wanted to say thanks for helping us out. You told your sister about that arrangement, right?”
Silence.
Then Charles’s voice lashed out like a whip. “I have no idea what you’re babbling about. I’m up to my neck in real
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work. Don’t drag me into your crap again! And for the love of God, stop calling me about nonsense!”
The line went dead with a sharp click.
Marco’s triumphant grin froze in place, and any earlier bravado evaporated like a puff of smoke.
If Charles didn’t help, then who had? Was it just dumb luck
Alex leaned in, his expression somewhere between amusement and mild boredom.
“So, Mr. amazing Ashford, I believe we were all waiting to hear the big news from Charles?”
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Megan’s head snapped back and forth between them, like a clueless referee. “Well, Mr. Ashford? Show him who’s boss! He’ll never be in your league!”
Marco forced a dry laugh, trying to cover the gaping hole in his story.
“What’s there to explain? Charles basically confirmed everything. Why else would the Kingstons let Sophia partner with them?”
Alex’s lips twitched into a faint smile, and anyone paying attention could see Marco’s assertion was about as stable as a house of cards in a hurricane.
Despite the blatant lie, Marco pressed on with forced generosity.
“But hey, this is supposed to be a happy occasion, right? I’m feeling magnanimous–let’s call a truce. Go ahead and enjoy the free food, Alex. I won’t drag this out.”
“Mr. Ashford is so gracious,” Megan declared, puffing up with pride.
She jabbed a finger at Alex. “Hear that, you ingrate? He forgives you, and you still won’t give him a shred of respect. How clueless can you get? Go thanks him.”
A dangerous chill flickered across Alex’s features. “Would you believe me if I said Marco was lying through his teeth?”
Megan let out a theatrical huff, but before she could lay into him again, Sophia abruptly rose from her seat.
“Alex, enough!” Her voice shook with anger. “Why are you so hell–bent on stirring the pot? I get it–you’re jealous of Marco. But that doesn’t give you license to slander him!” 1
Her cheeks were flushed with fury. “Is it so hard for you to admit he’s better than you?”
Stunned, Alex stared at her.
Sophia’s voice grew sharper, more accusing. “Don’t play dumb. All you ever do is sabotage us with your cheap little dirty tricks. And he’s been nothing but a help to us.”
Alex gaze turned distant, words coming out soft but weighted. “Jealous? Slander? Dirty tricks? So that’s how low you think of me, huh?”
Sophia folded her arms, unyielding. “Am I wrong? Look at the chaos you’ve caused to us.”
The blow of her accusation hit harder than he’d expected, and for a moment, Alex had no retort.
He studied her face, eyes reflecting a flicker of genuine hurt.
He exhaled slowly, voice quiet but laced with a hard edge. “Sophia, sometimes the person you’d take a b is the one pulling the trigger.” 1
