Aiden's POV:
How the hell can she be mad when she was the one at fault?
She clearly skipped school—the one damn thing I asked of her. After I paid off her studies, after I gave her a future she wouldn't have had otherwise. Hell, if not for me, she'd be a waitress in some rundown diner, scraping by with tips and struggling to make rent. But no—I dressed her in the latest designer pieces, fed her like a damn queen, and made sure she had everything she could ever need.
And what did I ask for in return?
Not love. Not loyalty. Just cooperation. All she had to do was pretend—pretend to be a good, loving wife in front of the world. Smile when the cameras were on. Hold my hand when necessary. Say the right things at the right time.
But no. Alexia had to be difficult.
I watched as she stormed into the house, not sparing me a single glance. William, who had opened the door at the sound of my car pulling up, looked startled as she brushed past him, disappearing inside without a word.
