Mysterious Wife: Of The Cold CEO and Mafia Boss

For a brief moment, Jermin's heart faltered at the sound of her voice, an unexplainable familiarity stirring within him. His gaze softened as he looked at the little girl, her innocent eyes and gentle voice pulling at something within him. But then, cold logic returned, sharpening his thoughts. This must be one of her mother's schemes, he concluded. The woman had likely sent her daughter to gain his sympathy.

His expression hardened, and his tone became icy. "I am not your father," he said, his voice low and cutting. "Go find whoever your real father is, because it's certainly not me"

Emily's eyes we're filled with tears, her small frame trembling as she tried to stifle a sob, the sting of Jermin's harsh words hitting her tender heart. Her lower lip quivered, and her cheeks glistened as tears slipped down.

At that moment, Alice returned, instantly noticing her daughter's absence from where she had left her. Her gaze swept over the tables of the VIP section, sharp and searching, until it landed on Emily's tear-streaked face beside Jermin. Her expression hardened, and she strode towards them with purpose.

Alice approached, wrapping a protective arm around her daughter's shoulders. "Don't cry, sweetheart," she murmured softly, brushing a tear from Emily's cheek. "Go sit over there, alright? I'll be with you soon."

Emily nodded, casting one last glance at Jermin before retreating to a seat at the far end of the VIP section.

Alice turned back to Jermin, her expression hardening as she took a deliberate step forward. "What kind of man is ruthless enough to make a child cry?" she demanded coldly, her voice as icy as her gaze. "Are you really so heartless that even a little girl deserves your cruelty?"

Jermin's jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with irritation as he stood, closing the distance between them. His voice dropped low, simmering with anger. "I see what you're doing. Arranging these 'coincidental' encounters, making sure our paths cross everywhere—whatever game this is, it won't work on me," he hissed, a sneer tugging at his lips. "Whatever you're hoping to gain, forget it. I wouldn't waste a second on a woman like you."

Alice's eyes flashed with defiance, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she let out a cold, mocking laugh. "You think I'm interested in you? If anyone's been chasing, it's you. You always start these conversations, even when I clearly avoid you."

Jermin's face froze, her words digging at his pride. He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, her tone sharp and unwavering.

"Why would I be interested in someone like you?" she continued, her voice disdainful. "You act like every woman's falling at your feet, but newsflash—" she smirked, giving him a dismissive glance, "you're not my type, not even close. Maybe take a look in the mirror and stop assuming everyone wants you. You're the only one here who seems obsessed. Stop being narcissistic."

Without another word, Alice turned on her heel, her movements confident and unapologetic as she walked away, leaving Jermin standing there, stunned and seething. His fists clenched, his gaze fixed on her retreating figure as she guided her daughter out of the VIP section. Her final words rang in his mind, stirring a quiet fury within him—a chaotic blend of anger and confusion as he struggled to process what she'd just said.

-----

Meanwhile, back at the Wilson villa, Sherlin sat in the ornate living room, recounting her version of the day's events to her family, her expression carefully distressed. Her voice was soft, tinged with a hint of tears, as she painted herself as the victim. "I only asked Alice to leave John," she explained, sniffling delicately, "because I love him. But she… she attacked me. In public, no less, and slapped me repeatedly." She touched her face, her fingers trembling as she pointed to an imagined mark.

Her father, Williston, looked visibly angered, his face darkening at her story. He had always seen Sherlin as his precious daughter, and the thought of her being mistreated made his temper flare. Her mother, feigning concern, placed a gentle hand on his arm, pretending to calm him while her expression remained steely.

"Calm down, dear," she murmured, with a softness that masked her underlying resentment. "I'm sure Alice didn't mean it… though it does sound like she's causing problems."

Williston's face twisted with rage. "How dare she!" he growled, his face reddening. "I've had enough of her disrespect. She thinks she can do whatever she pleases without consequence. It's time she learned who's in control."

He grabbed his phone, his hands shaking with anger as he dialed Alice's number. As soon as she picked up, he didn't wait for any greeting.

"Come to the villa now," he barked, his voice dripping with authority. "You're going to agree to a divorce from John, or there will be consequences."

On the other end, Alice's tone was calm, almost dismissive, as though she found his threats amusing. "Oh, I'll come," she replied coolly, not the least bit intimidated. "We do have some things to settle, after all. There's something in that house that belongs to me."

Williston was momentarily taken aback by her indifferent response, but before he could answer, she hung up, leaving him with his rage simmering in silence..

Just as Alice stepped into the family villa, the air was thick with tension. The moment she crossed the threshold, her father's voice thundered through the house.

"Unfilial daughter! How dare you show your face here after what you did to Sherlin?"

Alice barely spared him a glance, her gaze settling coldly on her surroundings. Sherlin stood in the corner, looking momentarily rattled but quickly schooling her features into a smug, composed expression. Alice continued to walk forward with a slow, graceful stride, an air of untouchable arrogance radiating from her. She moved to the living room and sank onto the sofa, her fingers reaching for an apple on the table nimbly but swiftly.She bit into it leisurely, chewing slowly, savoring the moment, her gaze distant and dismissive.

Her father's face twisted with fury at her defiant calm. "Do you think you can just walk in here and act like this? You're nothing but a disgrace, a good-for-nothing! How dare you lay a hand on my precious daughter?"

Alice's cold gaze turned toward him, her lips curling with a hint of disdain. In that moment, she couldn't shake the feeling that this man—this father of hers—was nothing more than a stranger. His immediate defense of Sherlin without even considering her side was all the confirmation she needed. Disappointment simmered into quiet anger, and she felt no urge to explain herself.

"Teaching her the manners you never taught," she replied coldly, her voice steady and cutting.

The words landed like a slap, and her father's face darkened as he took a threatening step forward, hand raised. But before he could strike, Alice's stepmother—Sherlin's mother—intervened, grabbing his arm gently.

"Calm down, darling," she murmured soothingly, casting Alice a wary look. "There's no need to lose your temper. This isn't why we're here."

Alice watched the woman, feeling a dark amusement mixed with contempt. Not long ago, she might've thought her stepmother was a gentle soul, uninterested in the family drama. But after overhearing that conversation—the conspiracy between her father, stepmother, and Sherlin to end her life—she now saw the truth. This woman was a snake, cloaked in a guise of kindness, a master of deception who would never hesitate to strike when her back was turned.

Alice settled back into the sofa, looking at them with a calm, almost bored expression. Wilson glared at her, barely containing his anger. "Alice, you'll sign those divorce papers today. Do you hear me?"

Sherlin sniffled beside him, putting on her usual act. "Alice, please," she whimpered, her voice trembling as if in pain. "Just sign the papers. I… I can't take this anymore." She turned her teary eyes toward their father, hoping he'd see her as the helpless victim, once again.

Alice raised an eyebrow, barely reacting, and let silence linger for a few seconds before asking in a low, cutting tone, "Why are you all so desperate?"

Rosie quickly chimed in, giving Alice a forced smile. "Because, dear, this isn't fair to Sherlin or to John. You're just holding onto something that's… causing everyone pain." Her voice was syrupy-sweet, a tone that only made Alice's gaze grow colder.

"Interesting," Alice replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She picked up an apple from the table, examining it thoughtfully. "Since when did any of you care about fairness?"

Wilson's face flushed with anger. "Enough with the attitude!" he snapped. "You will do what's best for this family. Stop being so… ungrateful. Agree to the divorce at once, Alice. Just sign."

Alice took a deliberate bite of her apple, not bothering to look at any of them as she chewed slowly.

It seemed like John had already planned for the divorce as his signature had already been signed leaving only her's vacant "Ungrateful?" she repeated, amusement flickering in her eyes. "I suppose that means I should be thanking you for… what exactly?"

Sherlin's voice turned pleading again, her tone dripping with false innocence. "Alice, please! Don't make this harder than it needs to be. You… you always do this."Alice sighed, standing up without another word and heading toward the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going?" Wilson barked, fury crackling in his voice.

Alice paused, one foot on the bottom step, and threw a cold glance over her shoulder. "Upstairs," she said simply, before continuing her climb.

"Alice!" Wilson roared after her. "I'm telling you, come back down here this instant!"

But the only answer was the soft, final click of her door locking behind her.

Sherlin smiled faintly she knew what Alice had gone upstairs for and thinking about the fact the Alice wouldn't get what she wanted this time made her happy she finally had the upper hand and with that her smile grew wider...

Seeing the familiar yet unfamiliar room, Alice's expression shifted slightly. The few moments she had spent here were among the darkest days of her life, but she had endured them, believing it was enough that her father had acknowledged her and provided a place to live. Thinking back to her former self, she felt a pang of sadness for the naive girl she had been. That version of herself was gone forever.

Quickly putting away these thoughts, she scanned the room meticulously, her fingers trailing over every surface. After nearly twenty minutes of searching every corner, she realized that the medicinal book her mother had left her was nowhere in sight. She stopped, tension and fury welling up inside her, and dashed downstairs.

Sherlin, who had already anticipated this reaction, couldn't help but smile slyly. However, upon seeing the terrifying aura radiating from Alice, her confidence faltered. Her lips trembled, and she lowered her head.

"Where is the medicinal book my mother left behind for me?" Alice's voice cut through the room, low and icy.

Sherlin, present and trembling with slight fear, still managed to compose herself. Her stepmother, Rosie, quickly donned a mask of innocence. "Alice, dear, we have no idea how your book disappeared."

Alice's gaze shifted to Sherlin, who had been smirking just moments before but now looked uneasy. Alice stepped closer, her voice an icy whisper. "Sherlin, where is my book?"

Sherlin looked at her nervously but held her ground. "I... don't know where your book is, Alice. Why should I have any idea?" She had no intention of giving Alice the book; it was valuable and, in her eyes, should belong to her—not to that btch.*

Alice's patience snapped. Her hand shot out, and a sharp slap echoed through the room, followed by another. Sherlin stumbled back, clutching her cheek in shock. "Y-you...you—" she stammered, but the pain silenced her, and she winced, her cheek stinging.

Williston sprang to his feet, his face red with fury. "How dare you lay a hand on my precious daughter!" he bellowed, his eyes blazing.

Alice met his gaze with a cold, unyielding stare. "And how dare you take what belongs to me," she replied, her tone simmering with anger.

Without warning Williston stepped forward raised his hands and struck her.