The Villains Must Win-Chapter 70: Alexander Vale 20

Alexander’s gaze darkened, his grip on her fingers tightening ever so slightly. He leaned in, close enough that she could feel the quiet power radiating from him.

"Try me."

Celeste chuckled, light and airy, as if dismissing the moment entirely. Instead, she took a sip of her wine, tilting her head with feigned nonchalance.

"But honestly, we’re only playing pretend to make Riley and Ethan jealous. You can tone it down a bit, you know."

The shift in Alexander’s demeanor was instant. His expression hardened, his amusement vanishing like a flicker of light snuffed out. A cold, unreadable shadow passed through his eyes as his fingers slowly unfurled from hers.

"You still like that man?" His voice was lower now, rougher. "What does he have that I don’t?"

Celeste studied him, her expression calm despite the storm brewing in his gaze. She set her glass down slowly before answering.

"He has nothing on you, Alexander." She met his eyes without hesitation. "And honestly? Throughout this entire pretend relationship, I realized something . . ."

She let the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing, her voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. "You’re a great guy. And far more desirable than I ever imagined."

For the first time, a crack appeared in Alexander’s usually impenetrable expression. His jaw tensed, his fingers curling slightly as if to reach for her, only to stop himself.

"Then . . ." His voice was hesitant, uncertain—something entirely unfamiliar to him.

"But," Celeste cut in gently, tilting her head, "I don’t think this will work between us."

His face darkened instantly, his shoulders going rigid. "Why?"

"Because," she said smoothly, watching him carefully, "you like Riley, don’t you?"

Silence.

For the first time in his life, Alexander Vale had no immediate response.

In the past, there had never been any doubt. Riley was the only woman who had ever occupied his thoughts, the only one he had ever wanted. He had been so certain of it.

But now . . . now, with Celeste seating beside him, eyes gleaming with quiet understanding, his certainty wavered.

He remained silent, and that silence was all the confirmation Celeste needed.

With an almost imperceptible sigh, she reached for her wine glass once more. But this time, as she moved, she casually withdrew her hand from his.

Alexander felt the loss of warmth instantly.

Celeste kept her expression carefully composed, pretending to brush off the moment. But out of the corner of her eye, she caught his reaction—the way his forehead scrunched, the way his lips pressed into a thin line, the way his fingers twitched slightly as if resisting the urge to pull her back.

He looked like he had just swallowed something bitter.

And she knew.

Her plan was working.

Celeste hid a sly smile behind a compose facade, letting the silence linger between them. The game had begun, and Alexander Vale didn’t even realize he was already playing.

To make him choose her in the end, Celeste knew she had to make Alexander realize just how important she was to him.

And that meant proving she could stand on her own.

The auction continued its course, the rhythmic calling of bids filling the grand hall, but Celeste’s attention had already shifted. Among the luxurious items being auctioned, her gaze locked onto a single painting—an original by Elizaire.

She didn’t particularly care for paintings. Art wasn’t something she indulged in except maybe if it was anime boys.

But this?

This was an investment.

Elizaire was old—his works already highly sought after, and once he took his final breath, the value of his paintings would skyrocket. Since she didn’t know how long she would be staying in this world of wealth and power, it was better to prepare for the future.

It was always better to have her own money.

Alexander had given her gifts worth hundreds of millions, more than enough to set her up for a lifetime. Yet Celeste never felt comfortable relying solely on another person’s wealth. Gifts could be taken back. Money that wasn’t hers could be revoked the moment she fell out of favor.

Not that she had any intention of letting Alexander go.

But still.

Independence is power.

The bidding for the Elizaire painting began, and without hesitation, Celeste raised her number. The auctioneer called out her bid, and immediately, murmurs spread across the room.

She could feel the eyes turning toward her.

One million dollars.

A bold number. High enough that most wouldn’t dare to compete with her.

At her side, Alexander turned his head, his sharp gaze narrowing.

"What are you doing?" His voice was low, edged with curiosity and something else—something possessive.

Celeste smiled, completely unbothered. "Placing a bid."

"If you want something, just ask me," Alexander said smoothly. "I’ll get it for you."

Without waiting for her response, he lifted his own bidding number.

Two million dollars.

Celeste smiled wryly, something amused dancing in her eyes.

"Thank you, hon," she said, her voice silk-soft, "but I can buy that with my own money."

Alexander leaned back in his seat, exuding effortless dominance. "Like I told you, as long as you’re with me, I’ll get you everything you want."

He wasn’t just stating a fact.

It was a promise.

Celeste merely gave a graceful shrug, letting it slide. She thought that was the end of it—that no one else would dare go against Alexander.

But then—

"Three million!"

A voice rang out from across the auction hall.

Deep. Smooth. Confident.

Celeste turned sharply, her eyes landing on the source of the interruption.

Ethan Carter.

A low murmur spread through the crowd as all attention shifted toward him.

Ethan sat with casual ease, one arm draped over the back of his chair, but there was nothing casual about the way he looked at them.

At her.

A knowing smirk tugged at his lips, his eyes gleaming with challenge.

The atmosphere in the room shifted.

Tension coiled like a storm about to break.

Celeste exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the auction paddle. What’s his problem?

Alexander raised his number, and said in a bored voice. "Four million."