Chapter 664 He Stole His Woman

Marcus was a name Alpha knew from long ago, but Mr. Augustine still remembered it vividly. Back then, Annabelle, the daughter of the Midas family, had countless suitors. A celebrity, she nevertheless already had a boyfriend: Marcus. Rumor had it they were childhood sweethearts. Marcus excelled at drawing, Annabelle at design. Despite their hardships, they supported each other and grew up together. Had a certain accident not occurred, Annabelle would have married Marcus. Tragically, the Midas family faced an economic crisis; their capital chain severed overnight. Their only salvation lay in Annabelle marrying Alpha. She had no choice.

Alpha always knew he had stolen Annabelle from Marcus. He'd always known she didn't love him. On their wedding day, Lily informed him Annabelle was with Rory. He found her in Marcus's arms. Alpha's handsome eyes narrowed as he snapped back to the present. He saw "Marcus Bennett" on his screen and smiled. She'd just returned from Visionary and yet had already contacted Marcus. He took her phone and went to the kitchen.

Annabelle was preparing dinner when a familiar ringtone sounded. She looked up to see Alpha, calmly leaning against the doorframe, one hand in his pocket, her phone in his other hand. Why was her phone in his possession? She recalled leaving it in her bag.

“Your phone is ringing. It’s Marcus,” Alpha said, handing it to her. Annabelle looked at him, searching his face. On their wedding night, he'd brought her back, and Marcus had nearly died. Disappointed, she found his expression devoid of emotion. His deep, narrow eyes observed her quietly. Her heart skipped a beat. This Alpha was different from the one she knew twenty years ago; his reactions were muted, his emotions perfectly concealed. Yet, she knew his calm masked a brewing storm.

“Give it to me,” Annabelle said, reaching for the phone. Alpha raised his hand above his head. “Give me my phone,” she said, tiptoeing to reach it. As she drew closer, he lowered his head, leaning forward. Startled, she found herself close enough to see his flawless skin, to feel his warm breath on her. She wanted to pull back, but heard him ask, “You and Marcus are on good terms again? To what extent? Kissing, hugging, or… something more?”

Annabelle’s pupils constricted. His sudden question felt like a flashback to years past. She stepped back, her face flushed, but her eyes remained calm. “Mr. Augustine,” she said, “this is personal. If you continue, I’ll leave.” Alpha handed her the phone without comment.

Annabelle answered. “Hello, Marcus,” she said. His warm voice responded, “Annabelle, where are you? Dinner tonight?” Alpha remained by the door, listening. Annabelle, turning her back to him, whispered, “Marcus, I’m busy.”

Marcus sensed something was wrong. “Annabelle, what’s wrong? Where are you? I’ll pick you up.” Before Annabelle could respond, Alpha’s low voice cut through the air, “You can ask Marcus to pick you up, but forget about seeing my son.”

Annabelle looked back to see Alpha staring coldly before turning and going upstairs. “Annabelle, where are you? Did I hear… Alpha?” Marcus, still deeply affected by Alpha after all these years, asked. Annabelle, knowing Marcus’s kind nature, didn’t want conflict, nor did she want Alpha to meet Marcus again. “Marcus,” she said, “I’m busy. I’ll talk later.”

“Annabelle, why are you with Alpha again? He’s a devil! You’re in danger. I’m coming.”

“Marcus, don’t. Goodbye,” Annabelle said, hanging up. She finished cooking, but Elvis hadn't returned. She removed her apron and left. Reuben approached. “Mrs. Annabelle, are you leaving?”

Annabelle nodded. “Yes, tell Mr. Augustine I’ve left. I’ll see Elvis later.” She departed.

Upstairs in his study, Reuben reported, “Sir, Mrs. Annabelle has left.” Alpha sat, smoking a cigarette. The smoke veiled his handsome face. After a moment, he calmly called. His instructions were simple: “Make it rain throughout the city. The harder, the better.”