The Villains Must Win-Chapter 68: Alexander Vale 18

Ethan’s lips curled in a mocking half-smile. "I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you, Vale," he mused. "The world is round, and one morning, you just might find yourself at the bottom."

Alexander patted Ethan’s shoulder lightly, a move so condescending it was almost insulting. "Same to you, Carter."

Ethan’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he cast one last look at Celeste—one filled with a meaning she understood all too well.

"If you ever find yourself without a job," Ethan murmured, his lips curling at the corners, "you know where to find me. I might just take you back if you beg."

And with that, he walked away.

Celeste clenched her jaw. She knew exactly what Ethan was implying. He was collecting evidence to bring Alexander down. Or waiting for Alexander to grow tired of her, to cast her aside so she would come crawling back.

She would rather die than let that happen.

Celeste couldn’t help but wonder—how did Ethan Carter end up as the so-called male lead when he acted more like a villain?

Once upon a time, he had been different. Back in their school days, Ethan had been kinder, more idealistic. But perhaps Alexander’s constant taunts and Riley’s ultimate choice to be with Alexander had twisted him into the man he was today.

After all, rising to the top didn’t exactly require innocence or naïveté. If anything, it demanded ruthlessness. Ethan had learned that the hard way—sacrificing pieces of his humanity to claw his way to power.

Still, Celeste had to admit—women loved a tragic male lead.

A good boy turned cold from heartbreak? A brooding CEO who buried himself in work, only to be saved by his one true love? It was straight out of a cliché romance novel. Add in a jealous villainess—always lurking, always scheming to tear them apart with misunderstandings (and the occasional kidnapping)—and you had the perfect, dramatic love story.

But the funny thing?

Alexander wasn’t playing that role right now.

Not even close.

For weeks now, Celeste had made sure of it.

Instead of letting him waste his time getting in Ethan and Riley’s way, she kept him distracted—and by distracted, she meant thoroughly occupied with her.

And honestly? She was doing the world a favor. Because an Alexander Vale with free time was a dangerous thing.

While Alexander’s smirk faded the second Ethan left. His body tensed, his face darkening as he turned to Celeste, golden eyes flashing.

"What were you doing talking to your ex?" His voice was low, controlled, but she could feel the jealousy simmering beneath it.

Celeste knew this side of Alexander well. The clenched jaw. The slight twitch of a vein on his temple. The way his fingers tightened around her wrist, just enough to make a statement.

She could have pulled away, could have been irritated by his possessiveness.

But she wasn’t.

Instead, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, her lips lingering just enough to make his grip loosen. Then, she whispered against his ear, her breath warm and teasing.

"It’s not my fault that your woman is beautiful and ripe," she murmured, her voice like silk. "The flies are the ones who keep getting too close to me."

A muscle in Alexander’s jaw twitched, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly.

"You should cover up more when we’re not alone," he muttered, his voice still laced with irritation.

Celeste giggled, lightly tracing her fingers over his chest. "But I have to look the part, don’t I? I wouldn’t want anyone to slight you because your woman isn’t pretty enough."

Alexander’s eyes darkened. "I don’t care what others think," he said firmly. His grip tightened ever so slightly around her hand again. "From now on, you’re not wearing revealing dresses outside."

Celeste laughed softly. "If that would put you at ease, my dear," she teased.

Only then did Alexander fully relax, exhaling deeply. He ran a hand through his hair before intertwining their fingers, making a silent declaration in front of everyone.

Celeste Hart belonged to him.

Alexander didn’t understand it. The need for control. He always been that way ever since young.

He had never been like this before—not even with Riley. He had thought that if he were ever possessive over a woman, it would be Riley.

But it was worse with Celeste. So much worse.

He didn’t want to feel this way. Didn’t want to care this much.

And yet, when he saw Ethan looking at her—when he saw any man so much as glance in her direction—something primal in him snapped.

The jealousy. The possessiveness. The need to make sure she was his and only his.

Riley had always fought him on this, always resented his protectiveness. She had hated the way he wanted to be involved in every aspect of her life, had called it suffocating. It had led to endless arguments, constant tension.

In fact, Alexander couldn’t even remember a time when they hadn’t fought. Their relationship had been toxic, exhausting, a constant war of wills. At first, they had tried to make it work. But in the end, Riley had given up on him—had walked away like his love meant nothing.

But Celeste?

Celeste never complained. She never argued with his possessiveness, never nagged him about his jealousy.

She simply understood him.

She knew exactly how to calm him down, how to turn his anger into something else entirely. And the worst part?

She was doing it right now—tracing soft circles on his wrist with her thumb, looking up at him with those sharp, knowing eyes.

A dangerous, satisfied smirk tugged at her lips.

Celeste Hart knew she had him wrapped around her little finger.

And Alexander Vale?

He let her.

Ironically, for a man who thrived on control, it seemed that she was the one controlling him instead.

Whether or not he realized it didn’t matter.

What mattered was that Celeste understood him—without prying, without demanding explanations. And that, more than anything, was what kept him tethered to her.