Chapter 2
"Vivi, the Hohen Group has pretty high standards. Even their security guards need a college degree," Marcus said, looking down at the masked man.
"But since it's you, Vivi, I'll bend the rules and give the HR manager a heads-up," he added.
The live chat blew up again.
[Vivi is so kind! She's even helping her rival's husband land a job!]
[Mr. Lambert is so badass! Being a security guard at the Hohen Group is like a thousand times better than working at some street food stall!]
[Stella, you better get on your knees and thank them!]
I looked at the smug faces in front of me, and my stomach churned.
I turned to the man beside me.
"Honey, are the requirements for security guards at the Hohen Group really that high?" I asked.
Alexander paused mid-peel.
He reached for a disinfectant wipe and carefully wiped each finger, one at a time.
His movements were agonizingly slow.
The air in the studio seemed to freeze as he moved.
He looked up, his dark, unfathomable eyes piercing straight through Marcus.
Marcus's fake smile stiffened on his face, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously.
He reached up, his long fingers hooking under the strap of his mask, and with a gentle tug, he pulled it off.
The mask slipped away.
His chiseled, almost devilishly handsome face was suddenly revealed to the cameras.
He had a sharp nose, thin lips, and a jawline so fierce it looked like a blade drawn from its sheath.
The studio was stunned into silence.
Even the director froze, holding his breath as he switched the camera angles.
The live chat didn't drop a single comment for five whole seconds.
Alexander stood up.
At six foot three, he towered over Marcus, the pressure in the room almost suffocating as he looked down at him.
His thin lips parted, his voice icy enough to freeze the air.
"That multi-billion project you're supposedly in charge of, funny, I don't recall ever hearing about it."
His words hit like a sledgehammer, crashing down on the glass floor of the studio.
Marcus's pupils contracted sharply, and the muscles around his eyes twitched uncontrollably.
He locked his gaze on Alexander's face, his breath coming in quick, harsh bursts, like a bellows.
"Mr... Ho..." Marcus stammered, unable to finish the name.
His teeth were chattering, his tongue twisted in knots, and for a long moment, he couldn't get a single syllable out.
Vivienne still hadn't noticed the shift in the atmosphere.
She stepped forward, hooked her arm around Marcus's, and raised her chin even higher.
"And who the hell are you to question Marcus?" she snapped.
"Does the Hohen Group really need to report its billion-dollar projects to someone who just peels shrimp for a living?"
Marcus jerked his arm out of Vivienne's grasp.
The force made Vivienne stagger, her high heel twisting as she tumbled into the edge of the sofa.
"Marcus! What are you doing?" Vivienne shrieked.
Marcus completely ignored her.
His legs gave out, and his knees slammed into the glass floor with a dull thud.
Beads of cold sweat rolled down his forehead, hitting the floor one by one.
"M-Mr. Hohen..." Marcus stammered.
His voice shook so badly it barely sounded human, and his hands gripped the seams of his pants like a lifeline.
"W-Why are you here?" he managed, still trembling.
The studio felt suffocating, like someone had vacuumed out all the air.
Vivienne's scream caught in her throat, her eyes bulging in shock.
After ten seconds of dead silence, the live chat went absolutely nuclear.
[WTF WTF WTF!!! Did I just hear that?! What did Marcus just call him?!]
[Wait, Mr. Hohen?! The mysterious boss of the Hohen Group?!]
[No freaking way! The Hohen family head peeling shrimp on a variety show? Impossible!]
[But Marcus actually got on his knees! That was real! I legit heard his knees hit the floor!]
[With that face and that vibe? If he's just the shrimp guy, I'll eat my keyboard!]
Alexander's eyes dropped, sweeping over Marcus with the same disdain he'd show a pile of garbage.
"I'm talking to you," Alexander said, his tone icy.
His voice was emotionless, but the weight behind it was enough to crush the air out of the room.
"Which project?"
Marcus was shaking like a leaf, his forehead practically glued to the floor.
"N-No... there's no project..." he stammered out.
"I... I made it up... I was just talking big..."
"Mr. Hohen, I messed up. I'm just a deputy director at a branch office, I don't even have the qualifications to get into headquarters..."
His panicked confession ripped Vivienne's whole 'pampered rich heir' fantasy to shreds.
Vivienne's face went ghostly pale as she practically crawled over, desperately grabbing Marcus's sleeve.
"Marcus! Are you out of your mind? Have you lost it? What nonsense are you spouting?" she shrieked.
"Come on, get up! We're still live!"
Marcus spun around and backhanded Vivienne across the face.
"Shut up! Are you trying to get me killed?" he snapped.
The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the studio, picked up by the microphones for everyone to hear.
Vivienne clutched her face, dazed and in shock.
Alexander frowned, looking like he was fed up with their drama.
He grabbed another disinfectant wipe, wiped his hands again, then turned his attention to me.
His gaze went from winter chill to spring warmth in an instant.
"Did you get enough to eat?" Alexander asked gently.
I nodded, grabbing a tissue to wipe my mouth.
"I'm stuffed. All I want to do now is sleep," I replied.
Alexander reached out and took my hand, our fingers lacing together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Let's go pick out a room," he said.