The Villains Must Win-Chapter 60: Alexander Vale 10

The tension in the room was thick.

But amidst all the hushed whispers and stolen glances, no one—not even Ethan or Riley—could hear the real conversation taking place between Celesta and Alexander.

At that moment, as Alexander clasped the necklace around her, he leaned down ever so slightly, his lips hovering near her ear.

"Stop laughing."

Celeste nearly choked trying to hold back her giggles.

"I can’t help it," she whispered, her shoulders shaking slightly. "Your fingers are tickling my neck."

Alexander let out a soft, exasperated sigh, his warm breath ghosting against her skin.

"Woman, do you have any idea what you’re doing?" he muttered.

Celeste smirked, leaning back against his chest slightly. "Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing."

After a moment, Alexander straightened, returning to his seat.

Celeste beamed at him. "Don’t worry, this is just for show. I’ll give the necklace back once we’re done here."

Alexander’s sharp eyes darkened ever so slightly, making Celeste shiver.

"Do you take me for a cheapskate?" he said smoothly. "Keep the necklace. I don’t need it."

Celeste blinked. "Eh? But this thing must’ve cost—what? Hundreds of millions?"

Alexander shrugged. "I can make that much in a week."

Celeste stifled a laugh, swirling her wine. "A gift like this makes me feel . . . indebted."

Alexander’s amber eyes glinted dangerously. He leaned forward, voice dropping into a low, velvety tone.

"And what exactly are you proposing, Miss Hart?"

Celeste smiled sweetly. "I don’t have money, but I can repay you with . . . other things."

She leaned in just enough, letting her hands rest strategically, pushing her cleavage upward.

Celeste knew men like Alexander Vale, one of the many tropes in her games.

Hinedere – The Cynical and Cold One.

Sarcastic, intelligent, and emotionally detached, often looking down on others. They may love deeply but struggle to show it.

Capturing a Hinedere’s heart was no easy feat—they’re cold, cynical, and emotionally distant, often looking down on others or hiding their true feelings behind sarcasm and intellect. But once they fall, they love deeply and fiercely protect the one person who broke through their icy exterior.

They secretly desire to be understood and accepted. And the best way to enter their heart was to subtly acknowledge their emotions without forcing them to express them.

Handsome, powerful, and undeniably a good catch—yet most women kept their distance, intimidated by the sheer dominance Alexander exuded.

Oh, he probably had women in his life—temporary distractions to satisfy his urges. But Celeste was different.

She wasn’t here to be a passing indulgence. She was confident that she could pull him in—completely, irrevocably.

And she would do it in a way Riley never could.

By the time she was done with him, Alexander Vale wouldn’t just want her—he would choose her in the end.

Alexander’s lips curled into a dangerous smirk. "You’re playing with fire, Miss Hart."

Celeste trailed her fingers teasingly over his arm. "Oh? You did say you’ve only been with Miss Evans. I’m concerned." She cocked her head. "Tell me, Mr. Vale . . . are you still . . . a virgin?"

The air shifted.

Alexander’s golden eyes darkened—completely.

The power in his gaze alone was enough to make Celeste cross her legs under the table, suddenly very aware of the overwhelming male presence in front of her.

Then, his voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper.

"Why don’t we find out?"

The next thing Celeste knew, she was in Alexander’s penthouse, pressed against the cool glass of a floor-to-ceiling window, their bodies tangled in a heated kiss—desperate, consuming, unstoppable.

The city lights glittered beneath them, a breathtaking skyline stretching out for miles, but Celeste barely noticed. Because right now, Alexander Vale was kissing her like he owned her.

And maybe, for this moment, he did.

Celeste’s lips met Alexander’s, she felt herself being swept away by a tidal wave of passion. It was as if they were starving for each other –– their hunger and desire so intense it bordered on primal.

Alexander lifted her up, cradling her in his arms as he carried her towards the wall with effortless ease. His tall frame dwarfed hers, but she only reached his chest, feeling small and vulnerable yet completely secure in his grasp.

Her legs circled his hips, teasing his arousal with a gentle rhythm that left them breathless. Celeste’s arms snaked around his neck, clinging to him like a lifeline as she devoured every inch of his mouth.

Their kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and demanding by the second. Alexander’s nails dug into her buttcheeks, claiming ownership over every inch of her body.

Celeste moaned in pleasure, lost in the whirlwind of sensations coursing through her veins.

Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, Alexander pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva glistening between their lips. He trailed his mouth down her neck, sucking and licking her skin with an intensity that left her shivering with desire.

Celeste felt like she was melting into him –– like her very soul was merging with his own. Their chemistry was explosive, a force to be reckoned with that threatened to consume them both.

They could already feel the sparks flying between them, their bodies craving each other like two addiction-ridden junkies.

Alexander’s control freak tendencies were having a total melt-down as he devoured every inch of her mouth, his fingertips leaving a trail of possession on her skin.

And Celeste? She’s hopelessly lost in this whirlpool of sensations –– like she’s drowning in his love-drunk sea. Her moans and whimpers were music to Alexander’s ears; he could practically heard her panting and squirming as they ravage each other’s mouths.

Alexander had kissed many women before.

Some were fleeting, meaningless affairs—passionate but empty. Others were calculated, strategic—meant to secure alliances or keep up appearances.

And then there was Riley.

Kissing Riley had always required control. Restraint. She was shy, hesitant, never fully giving in, always holding something back. He had adjusted to her pace, careful not to overwhelm her—careful to be gentle.

But she had tested his patience more times than he could count. Over and over again. Frankly, he was exhausted from this endless game of chase and retreat.

And Celeste . . . Celeste was the one who allowed him to unleash all his pent-up frustration. With her, he felt unrestrained, liberated—every touch, every moment with her left him feeling renewed, as if she stripped away the weight of the world with nothing but her kiss.