Chapter 4

Alec’s POV. Back then... Being a poor orphan from the village on a scholarship at North View Academy, a prestigious private school, certainly had its challenges. As academically gifted as I was, I still faced numerous issues—primarily the relentless bullying from privileged kids who saw fit to target me, a scrawny guy trying to make his way in their world. I had no one to defend me, and it was a daily struggle. One fateful day, I decided to stay behind at school, hoping for some peace and quiet to focus on my studies. Little did I know that my choice would lead to a confrontation that would change my life. Two jocks from the school had cornered me, intent on making my day an absolute nightmare. They closed in, and it seemed like a beating was imminent. I clutched my book, closing my eyes in preparation for the inevitable, but then, an unexpected sound filled the air—a sharp, piercing whistle that pierced through the tension. Startled, I turned to locate the source of the sound and found my bullies frozen in their tracks as they saw Alana standing there. She stood with her arms crossed, her gaze narrowed and determined. "I dare you to touch him," Teenage Alana threatened, her voice unwavering. "I'll make sure the coach benches you for the rest of the season. And if that's not intimidating enough, maybe I'll share a few secrets with your girlfriends that will lead to messy and public breakups." Alana was petite in stature, but her fierce attitude more than compensated for her lack of height. Everyone knew better than to cross her or the group of friends she ran with—they were powerful and nearly always got their way on campus. "No one bullies Alec except for me," she declared, her tone final. "I'll beat him fair and square. Until then, I dare you to mess with him." From that day onward, no one dared to pick on me again. Alana Preston had been the only one to ever bully me, but I didn't mind. I couldn't help but admire her from afar, even though I knew she'd never pay me any attention. Instead, I tried to capture her notice the only way I knew how—through academic excellence. My goal was to prove to her that I belonged here, that I deserved to be here, and maybe, just maybe, she would see me as more than just someone to pick on. *** Now... I arrived in town just two weeks ago, strictly for business. My schedule was packed with meetings, and I diligently attended each one, successfully accomplishing what I had set out to do. Originally, I had planned to stay for just a week, but a curious impulse led me to check my social media, something I rarely did. To my surprise, I found my feed flooded with mentions of the "wedding of the century": the union of Daniel Ray and Alana Preston. Instantly, a mix of anger and jealousy flooded my thoughts, prompting me to make an impulsive decision to extend my stay. The wedding was to be held in this town, and despite the lack of an invitation, I was determined to find my way in. I had my methods for achieving that. I couldn't help but reminisce about the engagement photos I had seen. Alana looked just as stunning as the first time I laid eyes on her back at North View Academy. Her beauty and intelligence had always captivated me. I had yearned to prove to her that I could be great, that I was worthy of her friendship. But instead, she saw me differently. Her enchanting green eyes and glossy auburn hair were etched in my memory, impossible to forget. Alana Preston—now Jordan—had always been perfection in my eyes, and I had sworn to myself that I would make her give me a chance. This marriage, it seemed, was my golden opportunity. Born into a lower-class society in a small village as an orphan, I knew from a young age that I would never have a fair shot at greatness. But I possessed something invaluable—intelligence—and I was determined to wield it to transcend my circumstances. I relentlessly pursued the best education, seizing every scholarship and internship opportunity that came my way to sharpen my skills and knowledge. My hard work eventually paid off. I had successfully rebranded myself and established a thriving company renowned for rescuing struggling businesses and transforming their fortunes. In under three years, my management consultancy had skyrocketed to the top, leaving a trail of successful deals in its wake. While my company's reputation soared, I remained an enigmatic figure, the face behind its success known to none. Yet, I understood that to attract the highest-paying clients and take my company to even greater heights, I would need to reveal myself. The problem was that such clients often favored consultancies with ties to old-money families. To reach my ambitious goals, I had to become part of that elite circle, and marrying into it seemed the most viable path. Alana Jordan, previously Alana Preston, was precisely what I needed—a woman from an old-money family. Sneaking into the wedding had been a challenge, but I engaged in conversations with other guests, curious about the delay in the bride's appearance. I had no clear plan on how to disrupt the wedding, but I was confident that an opportunity would present itself. And it did. When I met Richard Jordan, a brief conversation opened the door for me to seize the moment. I had to maintain the facade of a meticulously planned wedding and sign an ironclad prenuptial agreement, but my aim wasn't financial gain. I sought status and, above all, Alana. As the wedding ring slid onto my finger, my fate was sealed. *** Alana remained unusually quiet as we sat together in the luxurious limousine, en route to the new house her father had acquired for us. I couldn't help but admire my wife's presence, her auburn hair meticulously styled in a neat bun, with soft curls framing her face like a masterpiece. Her long, thick lashes brushed against those captivating olive-colored eyes, which appeared distant as she seemed lost in her thoughts. My gaze traveled further down to her exposed shoulders, accentuated by the magnificent, puffy princess-style wedding gown she wore. It was precisely the kind of dress I had always imagined Alana would choose for her special day, and she looked every bit as radiant and perfect as I had envisioned. As I was lost in contemplation, Alana's voice cut through my reverie, her tone laced with a hint of amusement and a touch of sarcasm. "If you think this marriage will ever be consummated, I can assure you that you're sorely mistaken. You should cease your persistent staring," she remarked. A sly smile tugged at my lips in response. "Oh, Alana, trust me. I would never dream of doing anything against your will," I replied, leaning in closer to her and placing my champagne glass down on the elegant limo's interior. "When the time comes for us to consummate this marriage, it will be you who willingly seeks me out, begging for the best night of your life. I'd be honored to oblige, but for now, feel free to continue your charming display of pouting and glooming about," I added, punctuating my words with a wink before casually turning my attention to the view outside the window, acutely aware of the glare she was undoubtedly glaring at me. “I will figure out why you’re doing this and I will make sure you pay hell for it,” Alana promised, getting out the words of anger as she continued to glare at me. “Oh, my wife, that won’t be necessary,” I laughed and looked at her. “What?” “You’ll find out sooner rather than later and when you do, you’ll realize how lucky you are,” I patted her knee then went to grab some more champagne.