Mysterious Wife: Of The Cold CEO and Mafia Boss

Alice didn't resist. Not because she couldn't overpower them, but because she chose not to. The surprise in their movements suggested they weren't amateurs, and she had no intention of alerting them to her strength before she knew who was behind the attack. For now, she would let them think she was vulnerable, the faintest hint of a struggle escaping her as her eyes closed and she slumped against the nearest figure.

They carried her to a waiting black van with tinted windows. The doors slid shut with a soft thud, and they sped off, taking a maze of side streets, the city lights fading until they reached a part of town she didn't recognize. As the van stopped, they pulled her limp body from the back seat, dragging her into a vast, cold space—a abandoned, warehouse from the look of the crumbling brick walls and broken windows, shadows pooling in every corner.

They tied her to a metal chair with thick rope, binding her wrists tightly behind her back. A single, harsh bulb hung overhead, casting stark light on her figure, making the surrounding darkness seem even deeper. The men said nothing, only stepping back once they were done, their expressions blank and impassive behind the sunglasses they hadn't removed. They waited, as if expecting someone.

Minutes ticked by, the silence heavy, broken only by the muffled sounds of the night outside. Alice kept her breathing even, sensing that whatever was coming next would reveal what she needed to know. A few tense minutes later, a sharp click of heels echoed through the empty space, approaching her from the shadows.

Alice's eyes narrowed slightly as the figure stepped into the dim light, and recognition hit her like a slap. It was Casey—Robert's assistant, the same woman whose disdain had simmered just below the surface during their meeting earlier that day. A strange mix of surprise and cold understanding passed through Alice as she took in the sight of Casey, her tailored suit a sharp contrast to the grime and dust of the warehouse.

"Well, well," Casey's voice was low and taunting, a mocking smile on her lips. "I have to admit, you have guts, Alice. Provoking me like that… as if you own the world. You think you're untouchable, don't you?"

Alice's eyes remained steady, expressionless, as she observed Casey with a calculating calm. Casey's anger was raw, her fists clenched as she stepped closer, her face contorted with a mix of jealousy and rage.

"Do you have any idea what it feels like?" Casey's voice rose, her words spilling out with a bitterness that was hard to mask. "To sacrifice everything for someone—your time, your energy, your life—only to see him look at you like you're nothing? And then, for him to give his attention to someone like you? Someone who doesn't even want it, someone who acts as if he's beneath her notice? It's disgusting."

Alice's cold gaze did not waver. She said nothing, letting the other woman's words wash over her, filing away each accusation and resentment. This wasn't the rant of someone merely jealous—it was deeper, more desperate, and Alice wanted to know just how far that desperation went.

But she couldn't understand how this had to do with her she didn't have any encounter with Robert and wasn't familiar with him so she was confused as to why Casey said that Robert had left Casey for her. Thinking back to their meeting in the restaurant she felt that her thoughts about this two people being weird had been confirmed.

Casey's laugh was short and harsh. "You should have been someone important," she continued. "Someone at least deserving. But instead, it's you. You and that… child you have." Her eyes flickered with contempt. "Well, it ends here. Tonight."

With those words, Casey's hand darted to her waist, pulling out a small, glinting blade. She moved closer, the dim light catching the steel as she raised it, her intent clear. But Alice had seen enough.

In a blur of movement, Alice's muscles tensed and surged with strength she had kept hidden. In a single, fluid motion, she twisted her wrists, snapping the rope like a brittle thread, and sprang to her feet. Before Casey could react, Alice's hand shot out, grabbing the woman's wrist and wrenching the knife away. The men in black moved, but Alice was faster—her foot lashed out, knocking the closest one to the ground, and with another swift series of blows, the others followed. They were incapacitated in seconds, groaning on the dusty floor, stunned and defeated.

Casey, shock widening her eyes, staggered back, but Alice was relentless. She shoved Casey into the chair she had been tied to moments before, using the same rope to bind the woman's hands and feet with efficient, unyielding knots. Casey's protests turned to muffled cries as Alice silenced her with a strip of tape over her mouth.

Ignoring the thrashing woman, Alice retrieved her phone from her pocket, taking a moment to compose herself. She dialed Robert's number, her fingers steady, her voice cold and emotionless as she listened to the ringing on the other end.

"Mr. Smith," she said, her tone sounding scared and pitiful in the warehouse. "I've been kidnapped.. and i...i need your help I'm sending you my location now.please hurry." Without waiting for a reply, she tapped the screen, sharing her location.

Then returned to her icy demeanor.

She glanced at Casey—now bound, silenced, and furious—before heading for the exit. Alice moved swiftly, slipping out of the warehouse and vanishing into the night before Robert's arrival,

Robert arrived at the abandoned warehouse in a rush, the tires of his black SUV screeching to a halt. The urgency was evident in his tense features and the way he barked orders to his men, his voice carrying the weight of someone genuinely concerned. He moved swiftly towards the entrance, his heart racing with a mix of anger and apprehension. What had happened to Alice? Was she hurt? He had to know, and he wasn't willing to take any chances.

As the heavy door swung open, he stopped in his tracks, the scene before him nothing like what he expected. Three men—presumably the ones who had taken Alice—lay unconscious on the cold concrete floor, their bodies sprawled out, evidence of a swift and precise takedown. At the center of it all was Casey, his personal assistant, bound to a chair. Her wrists were tied tightly with the same ropes Alice had been restrained with, and a strip of tape covered her mouth. Casey's eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of anger and fear, but Robert barely noticed. Realization struck him like a lightning bolt.

Alice had not been in danger; she hadn't needed saving. No, she had done this. She had called him here not for help, but to make a point. A smile curled at the corners of Robert's lips, admiration sparking in his eyes. Interesting, he thought. She was far more formidable than he had given her credit for. There was a strength in Alice that he hadn't seen before—a woman capable of outmaneuvering and humiliating her enemies with ease. This was not someone to be trifled with.

And she was his,,

His expression hardened as he turned his gaze to Casey. The shock of the situation melted into a cold fury, and his smile vanished. This woman—his assistant—had dared to lay hands on Alice. No matter what feelings Casey harbored or how deeply her jealousy ran, she had overstepped. In his eyes, she had committed an unforgivable betrayal.

"Take her," he ordered his men, his voice devoid of warmth as he gestured to the bound woman. "Lock her in one of the storage rooms. No food, no water, ten days. Then, let her go." He turned his back without another glance, trusting his command would be carried out without hesitation.

Casey's muffled protests were cut off as they dragged her away, leaving Robert standing amidst the chaos, a lingering smirk hinting at his interest in Alice.

__

Justin leaned back in his leather chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he listened to his assistant's report. His eyes narrowed with interest as the man spoke.

"I saw her, sir," the assistant said. "Alice Wilson... she was with Robert Smith. They seemed... close."

Justin's fingers tightened around the glass, a flicker of irritation passing across his face. Robert Smith was a significant competitor, and seeing Alice with him was a development he hadn't anticipated. He drained his glass and placed it down with a heavy thud.

"Find out everything you can about her," Justin ordered, his tone clipped. "I want to know if she's a threat or an ally." He watched his assistant leave, his mind already racing with possibilities. This woman, he mused, his gaze thoughtful as he stared into the empty glass. He couldn't tell yet if she was an enemy or something else entirely.

But if she was an enemy he had to eliminate her

His phone rang late in the evening, cutting through the silence of Jermin's office. He picked it up without hesitation, his expression cool and detached, but his brow furrowed slightly when he heard the excited voice of his grandfather on the other end.

"Jermin, there's a company you need to look into," the old man's voice crackled through the receiver, filled with enthusiasm. "It's called Aurealice Group. They've been rising quickly, and I was considering investing. After some investigation, I found out it's owned by that young woman—Alice Wilson. The same woman who saved your grandmother at the banquet. I want you to meet with her, see if there's an opportunity for us to partner. Arrange a meeting immediately."

Jermin's jaw tightened as he listened, a dark suspicion blooming in his chest. Why was she here, in Seattle, with a company that seemed to be growing out of nowhere? What was her endgame? He couldn't ignore his grandfather's wishes, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Alice was hiding something.

"I'll have my assistant contact Aurealice and set up a meeting," he replied, his tone clipped. "They'll need to present a business proposal to see if it's worth our investment." As he hung up, his gaze was cold, his thoughts clouded with doubt. He would get to the bottom of Alice's sudden appearance, even if it meant playing along for now.

*

Sitting in her home office, Alice scrolled through her emails, her fingers gliding smoothly over the keyboard. Her expression remained impassive as she deleted another invitation from Raya—yet another attempt to lure her to the annual Traditional Practitioner Gathering. She had no intention of attending, at least not with raya's invitation and she dismissed the invitation without a second thought.

Then, her eyes caught on another email—an invitation to participate in the upcoming annual car racing competition in New York. Alice's fingers paused over the keys. She had dominated the event for years, but the thrill had long faded, and she found no real challenge left among the current competitors. With a faint sigh, she declined the invitation, her decision made in a matter of seconds. No need to waste her time.

Alice closed her laptop with a decisive click, the action final, and turned off the lights, heading to her bedroom for some much-needed rest. The night was quiet, and she slipped into bed, unaware of the email that had just landed in her inbox.

...

Across the Private Villa

A man in a pristine white robe sat in a dimly lit room, the only illumination coming from the glowing screen in front of him. His fingers moved swiftly over the keys, his eyes narrowing with interest as he saw the notification of Alice's declined entry to the car racing competition. A slow, calculating smile spread across his face, his gaze gleaming with an eerie intensity.

"Ah, Alice," he murmured softly, a hint of malice curling in his words. "You won't escape this time."

His hands stilled over the keyboard, and then, with a few precise keystrokes, he began to type:

If you agree to participate in the competition and race, I will provide you with a clue about the day you've been searching for...

He hit send, a cold satisfaction settling in his chest. With the message delivered, he leaned back in his chair, the light reflecting off the malicious glint in his eyes. Alice might think she was beyond reach, but he had no intention of letting her slip away.

Alice who had no idea of the message she received was already fast asleep.