Mysterious Wife: Of The Cold CEO and Mafia Boss

It was already 9 p.m. when Alice arrived at Sky High Hotel. She wore a casual outfit, high-end jeans and a simple blouse, that emphasized her striking beauty. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, but the minimal effort only enhanced her allure. As she moved through the hotel lobby, people couldn't help but stop and stare, commenting on her appearance. Yet, Alice, who knew her worth, pretended not to hear them. With an air of nonchalance, she walked to the elevator that would take her to the private room John had chosen. Her choice of casual attire wasn't random; it was intentional ready to react if John tried anything, and the DNA test bag she needed to store his samples fit snugly in her jeans pocket, undetectable to the eye.

Upon entering the private room, Alice was taken aback. The space had been set up in a romantic style, complete with a dim, soft glow from the mood lighting, delicate flower arrangements, and a table meticulously set for dinner. A large bed dominated one side of the room, while a comfortable sofa lined the other. At the center, a dining table was laid out with dishes John had ordered, a display of formality that made Alice raise an eyebrow. She wondered if John had hit his head or if he'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Nevertheless, she remained unaffected, her face cold and indifferent as she stepped inside.

John greeted her, flashing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Alice, glad you could make it," he said with an unsettling cheerfulness, gesturing to the dining setup.

Alice's reply was icy and detached, "Let's just get this over with." She moved past him without another glance and sat in the chair opposite, crossing one leg over the other.

John poured a glass of wine, handing it to her, but she merely took it in hand without drinking. "I ordered all your favorites," he said with a hopeful lilt, desperate to break the ice. He tried making small talk, complimenting her appearance and asking how she had been.

He filled the silence with superficial pleasantries while Alice merely stirred her drink, barely responding. Her eyes were half-lidded, her chin propped on one hand, fingers tapping lightly against the glass. Loose strands of hair had fallen from her ponytail, framing her face and giving her an almost disheveled yet alluring look. She seemed bored, eyes downcast, but in truth, she was simply waiting—waiting for the right moment.

John, watching her subtle movements, felt his throat go dry. He swallowed, unable to ignore how seductive she appeared, even without trying. A heat stirred inside him, a tightness growing at his trousers, and he cursed himself for never noticing her allure before. But tonight, he thought, he wouldn't let the opportunity slip by. His gaze lingered on the drink in her hand, the one he'd spiked earlier. When she continued to toy with it rather than drink, he excused himself to make a call, forcing a smile.

The moment he left the room, Alice's expression sharpened. Quickly, she pulled a small white packet from her pocket and added the contents to his drink 'sleeping powder'. She moved to the restroom, dumping the spiked wine down the sink, and casually refilled her glass. A cold smirk tugged at her lips as she sat back down, pouring herself another glass of wine. She'd seen through John's plan from the start; she wouldn't be his victim.

Meanwhile, John was on the phone, requesting incense to be brought to the room. It would look like a typical fragrance, but it was laced with the same aphrodisiacs he had used to spike her drink. If she inhaled the fumes, they would have the same effect. He was determined to have his way tonight.

When he returned, a triumphant smile spread across his face, widening when he saw Alice. She seemed to be leaning back, sipping her drink leisurely, unaware of his intentions. To him, she looked irresistibly seductive, though Alice in question had no idea she was affecting him in 'that way'. He was confident seeing that she had started drinking the spiked alcohol, and that it would only be a matter of time.

His phone buzzed with a message stating that the incense delivery would be delayed, but he no longer cared. His eyes focused on Alice as she took a sip, feeling his excitement mount. Satisfied, he downed his own glass in one go, not realizing Alice was observing him closely. Her lips curved into a slight smile, her trap was working.

Setting her glass down, she no longer bothered to hide her intentions. Her gaze locked onto him, cold and calculating.

"About the divorce," Alice said casually, setting her glass down and meeting John's gaze with an icy stare.

John's eyes widened slightly, a smug grin spreading across his face. He leaned back in his chair, clearly misunderstanding her intent. He thought she was going to plead with him, to beg him to reconsider the divorce, to keep the marriage intact for the sake of her dignity or for their shared history. In his mind, he still had the upper hand. He was certain she was desperate.

With an air of condescension, he leaned forward and said, "Alice, I've been thinking. Even though you have a child, I'm willing to be generous. I won't insist on the divorce if you promise not to cause any trouble. If you behave, I can keep you around...as a mistress. I'll treat you well if you can satisfy me on bed."

Alice's expression froze, and for a moment she was truly speechless. Her eyes narrowed as his audacious words sank in. Did he really believe she was that desperate for his approval? That she would be satisfied with the crumbs he was throwing at her feet? A part of her wanted to laugh at his sheer delusion, but she didn't. Instead, she felt a sharp surge of irritation, masking her disgust with an icy, controlled demeanor.

"Why would I want that?" Alice's tone was as cold as ice, her eyes boring into his with a disdain that was impossible to miss. "If you're free tomorrow, we should go and sign the divorce papers."

John's confident smile faded, replaced with shock and confusion. He stared at Alice, unable to process her words. She wanted the divorce. She wanted to be free of him. How could this be? He had been so sure she would plead, that she would cling to him as a last resort. The realization that she was the one pushing for their separation left him reeling. Why had she agreed to meet him then?

"Wait... you actually want the divorce?" John managed to stammer, his disbelief evident in his eyes.