Chapter 2 Misunderstanding

Ross was wild, reckless, and utterly untamed.

As he left, Alsa turned back to the starlet. "Why are you still here?"

The young woman, feeling completely overshadowed by Alsa's presence, swallowed hard. "There are so many reporters downstairs. What if they catch me on camera? My career is just starting, I-"

Alsa's voice remained emotionless. "The company booked you for a lipstick commercial. The shoot is nearby. Your agent will take you there."

Hearing this, the starlet immediately understood-Alsa wasn't going to let her use Ross for publicity. With a reluctant nod, she hurried away.

With everything settled, Alsa was about to leave when her phone vibrated in her pocket.

She took it out and glanced at the screen. Seeing the caller ID, her brows furrowed slightly before she answered. "Grandfather."

An authoritative voice came through the receiver. "Alsa, bring Ross home within thirty minutes."

Alsa replied simply, "Understood."

The caller was none other than Mr. Old Moore. Judging by his tone, he was already aware of Ross's latest scandal.

After ending the call, Alsa made her way downstairs.

Ross's assistant, standing by the wall, let out a silent sigh of relief as he watched her leave.

Alsa didn't drive off immediately. Instead, she sat in the car and sent Ross a message, Grandfather wants us home.

As expected, there was no reply. Like always, her message vanished into the void.

Unbothered, Alsa closed the chat window and checked the entertainment news headlines. Once she confirmed that Ross's name wasn't trending in any gossip columns, she tapped her screen lightly and exited Twitter.

Just as she was lost in thought, the passenger door suddenly swung open. A tall figure slipped inside.

Ross had changed into a well-tailored suit, though he left his jacket unbuttoned and the top of his shirt undone, exuding his usual devil-may-care aura.

Catching Alsa's gaze, he smirked. His voice, rich with amusement, filled the car. "Alsa, what are you looking at?"

The way he said her name-deep, smooth, and teasing-stirred a memory.

That drunken night.

He had coaxed her with that same voice.

"Alsa, that's it, good girl."

"Alsa, relax a little. I'm about to surrender here."

The memory made Alsa frown slightly, but she quickly pushed it aside. Her voice remained composed. "If you're free now, let's head to the Moore estate."

Ross leaned back, tapping his fingers lightly against the car window. "Sure."

Alsa started the car.

As she drove, her phone-resting on the center console-buzzed with a notification.

Ross glanced at the screen and caught sight of the message,

Betty, Alsa, Ross is out fooling around every day. Does he even satisfy you at home? If not, girl, I can call you a gigolo!

Ross raised an eyebrow. ...Excuse me?

Just as he saw it, Alsa also glanced at the message.

Neither of them reacted much. With one hand on the wheel, Alsa calmly flipped her phone screen-down.

Half an hour later, they arrived at the Moore estate.

After parking the car, they stepped out one after the other.

As Alsa walked toward the entrance in her high heels, Ross's voice-low and careless-drifted over.

"Alsa, if you really have that kind of need, you can just ask me directly."