From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer novel Chapter 51

**Chapter 15**

In the opulent penthouse office of Pierce Tower, the air was thick with an oppressive tension, a palpable heaviness that seemed to cling to the luxurious surroundings. Jones burst through the door, urgency radiating from his every movement as he clutched a heavy file tightly in his hands. With a forceful slam, he deposited it onto the polished mahogany desk. His voice, strained and frantic, cut through the silence like a knife.

“Mr. Pierce, we’ve uncovered the truth. The kidnapping was a calculated plot by Miss Vaughn, in collaboration with the remnants of the cartel. Their objective… was to eliminate Officer Hayes.”

A low growl emerged from Alexander’s throat, hoarse and raw, as a tempest of rage and disbelief swirled within him.

How could he have been so blind?

Memories of Chloe’s calculated provocations replayed in his mind like a relentless film reel, each scene more damning than the last. Her insidious schemes against Olivia had been so glaringly obvious, yet he had been deceived, convinced of her innocence. And that fateful night in the Maldives…

How utterly foolish he had been to mistake that venomous viper for the pure, innocent moonlight he once adored.

And now, the woman who truly loved him—he had cast her aside, shoving her away with his own reckless hands.

Jones, acutely aware of the weight of Alexander’s piercing gaze, swallowed hard, the tension in the room almost suffocating. “We also discovered that the attack with the fan was staged, using actors she hired. As for the missing dress? She instructed the store clerk to take it. And regarding the storm drain incident… surveillance footage clearly shows she was the one who locked the cover. The boiling water? That was on her orders as well.”

SNAP!

The pen in Alexander’s grip shattered, ink splattering across the pristine white documents like a pool of blood, a stark reminder of the betrayal he had just unearthed.

His expression morphed into one of pure fury, his body rising slowly, muscles coiling beneath the fabric of his suit as if ready to spring. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, filled with a chilling intensity that sent shivers down Jones’s spine.

“Where is she?”

Returning to the villa, Alexander found Chloe standing before the mirror, admiring a new diamond necklace that sparkled with a deceptive allure. The moment she caught sight of him, her face lit up with delight, but that joy quickly vanished as she registered the icy fury etched across his features.

“Alexander, what—”

He stood framed in the doorway, flanked by four imposing bodyguards, a dark storm brewing in his eyes.

“Why?”

His voice was low, each word laced with barely contained rage as he advanced toward her, step by deliberate step.

Chloe’s complexion drained, terror flooding her senses as she stammered, “Honey… I don’t understand what you’re talking about…”

In a swift motion, Alexander seized her wrist, his grip like iron, crushing her delicate skin. “Don’t you?”

He twisted her arm, forcing her to meet his gaze, his eyes burning with fury. “What did Olivia ever do to you to deserve your hatred?! Why did you hurt her time and time again?!”

Chloe struggled against his hold, her face paling, fear etched in every feature. “I… I haven’t…”

“Haven’t you?”

With a swift motion, Alexander flung a stack of photographs in her direction, the images scattering across the floor like fallen leaves. They were surveillance stills—damning evidence of her handing cash to cartel members, records of payments made to foreign assassins… irrefutable proof of her treachery.

Chloe’s legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks as despair washed over her.

“No… it’s a misunderstanding, Alexander…”

“The proof is right here. What exactly did I misunderstand?”

His eyes darkened further, a storm brewing within, and she trembled violently under his gaze.

“NO!! I did all of this… because I love you! I was so terrified of losing you!!”

“Love me?”

Alexander’s sneer was laced with disgust, his eyes narrowing as he regarded her with contempt.

“Is your so-called ‘love’ about scheming? Lying? Murder?”

“Is your ‘love’ about conspiring with scum to kill Olivia?!!”

His voice rose to a roar, and in a fit of rage, he hurled a liquor bottle at the television, the screen shattering in a spectacular explosion of glass.

Chloe screamed, the sound piercing the air as Alexander slammed her against the wall near the wreckage. Shards of glass dug into her back, and blood began to seep from her wounds.

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