Transmigrated: Stealing the CEO husband-Chapter 37: The downfall of Alexandre

Alexander stepped out of Ariana's office.

Gone was the confident, arrogant man who had strutted in like he owned the place.

Now, he looked utterly defeated.

His steps dragged, his shoulders slumped, and a thin layer of sweat coated his forehead.

The crowd outside—staff members, investors, and the press—immediately swarmed him.

Cameras were thrust into his face.

Microphones hovered too close.

Eager voices clamoured—

"Mr. Alexander, what happened behind closed doors?"

"Are you being threatened?"

"Did Secretary Grey blackmail you?"

Alexander lifted a shaking hand and wiped his forehead. Then, in a voice that barely carried over the chaos, he said:

"I'm resigning."

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Murmurs and shocked whispers filled the air.

"What?"

"What does this mean?!"

"Are we idiots for believing you?!"

His answer was calm, and measured.

"No. I'm not being threatened," he stated firmly. "I failed to see the acumen of Ms. Grey in choosing this project. I was wrong. And I am guilty of gathering everyone here for no reason. For that, I am apologetic."

Then, to everyone's shock, he gave a deep bow.

"I am stepping down as your leader."

The energy in the crowd shifted.

Then, James stepped forward, mirroring Alexander's words.

He, too, bowed.

The executive rebellion—so fierce just hours ago—collapsed on itself.

And just like that, the protests dissolved.

Up on the top floor, Ariana stood on the balcony, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands.

She watched the chaos settle.

A slight smile tugged at her lips.

"You really are something."

A familiar voice spoke behind her.

She turned slightly.

David leaned against the railing, smirking.

"Am I?" Ariana asked, taking another slow sip.

"Now tell me—" she mused, tilting her head. "Do you regret staying safely perched on your fence?"

David laughed. "Regret? Not at all. That was necessary."

Then, with an easy smirk, he added,

"But if something like this happens again—" his gaze flickered toward the remnants of the protest below— "I'll be on your side of the fence."

Ariana chuckled. "Good."

Far from the office, in a private estate, Mrs. Wellington led Alexander to a quiet corner.

She had been furious upon hearing he was coming, but she made sure no one saw him enter.

If Luiss caught wind of this?

It would be disastrous.

She kept a pleasant smile, but her eyes were ice.

"Speak. Quickly."

Alexander's fists tightened at his sides.

"I did what you suggested," he hissed. "I staged a rebellion. But that vixen—"

Mrs. Wellington's gaze sharpened. "That vixen had means to silence you?"

"Y-Yes." Alexander swallowed. "She forged documents. Accused me of corruption. Threatened to show them to Luiss. I had no choice but to resign."

Mrs. Wellington's eyes narrowed.

"Forged documents?"

She wasn't stupid.

If he was truly innocent, he wouldn't have been so terrified.

So he was corrupt.

Typical.

Her anger coiled deep in her chest, but her expression never changed.

Instead, she smiled warmly, voice laced with sweet venom.

"Our link must not be discovered."

She turned to a nearby drawer, pulled out a stack of cash, and handed it to him.

Alexander's face twisted.

"Mrs. Wellington," he protested, voice rising. "I lost my job for you! How can this amount be enough?"

Mrs. Wellington's pleasant expression cracked.

"Silence!"

Her voice rang louder than she intended.

She took a breath, regaining control.

Her words were calculated, sharp.

"Take the money and never return. If you think Luiss would choose to trust you over me—" she let out a low chuckle— "then you're a fool."

Alexander stiffened.

That was it.

She had cut ties.

No more support.

No more safety.

And when Mrs. Wellington cut you off—

You were already dead.

A third person emerged from the shadows.

Alexander turned, startled.

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Butler Alfred.

Dressed in impeccable black, his build was imposing, his calm smile unsettling.

"Mr. Alexander," Alfred said, voice smooth, "you have done a good job."

His eyes gleamed coldly.

"But now... Madam wants you to leave."

Alexander's eyes flickered to the knife at Alfred's waist.

His heartbeat stuttered.

He knew better than to argue.

He had lost.

Completely.

Gritting his teeth, he turned on his heel and stormed out.

The moment he was gone, silence settled.

Mrs. Wellington let out a low exhale.

Then, without looking, she spoke.

"But I'm anxious about leaving a witness alive."

Her voice was soft. Dangerous.

Alfred bowed slightly.

"I understand, Madam."

Then, without another word, he disappeared into the night.

That evening, Alexander packed his few belongings and left the city.

But he never arrived at his destination.

No one ever saw him again.

And the world moved on—