Chapter 2 Meeting Him Again At Her Absolute Worst

Alexia slowly looked up and met a sharp, intense gaze.

The streetlights flickered in the rain. Waylon Mason stood there, tall and intimidating, with a strong presence that made people uncomfortable.

Behind him was a row of fancy cars parked along the street, catching everyone's eye.

His assistants were standing on both sides of him, and one was holding an umbrella over his head.

But the umbrella Waylon was holding was tilted just to cover Alexia.

Waylon took a slow step forward and leaned in. Before she could react, his fingers reached up and removed the heavy, black-rimmed glasses from her face. Her bright, beautiful eyes were now fully visible.

He looked down at her with a smirk. "It's been years, Alexia. Look at you-what a mess. Did you finally stop being that love-crazy girl, or are you still dreaming useless dreams?"

Every word cut deeper. Alexia's eyes started to tear up, and the little bit of strength she had left broke down under his harsh voice.

She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could speak, Waylon suddenly picked her up in his arms in front of everyone, protecting her from the rain and everything around them.

He walked toward the black car waiting nearby, carrying her as the bodyguards quickly stepped aside to make way.

All the noise and the rude comments around them faded away.

Everyone just stood there, stunned, watching them leave with shock written all over their faces.

...

Inside the car, Alexia held onto her muddy, soaked dress with trembling hands.

She looked down, her voice rough. "Waylon, why'd you have to show up now?"

Why now... when everything in her life was falling apart?

Waylon tilted his head at her question, then reached out and took her chin in his hand, gently but firmly lifting her face. His voice was calm, yet carried a cold edge. "Why else? I came to check on the woman I liked the least."

His eyes darkened, a smirk playing on his lips. "So, Alexia, do you remember what I said to you seven years ago?"

Of course she did.

Waylon was the golden child of the Mason family. Her biggest rival back in the day.

The last time they met was at the airport, seven years ago. What was meant to be a goodbye turned into their worst fight.

Waylon always hated how she begged for the Jenkins family's approval and how she held onto Roger like she had no pride. And she couldn't stand his ego and how he judged everyone she cared about.

Back then, he'd warned her clearly-chasing approval from people who'd never truly accept her would only end in disappointment, leaving her with nothing in the end.

But she was too hopeful to see it. She had told herself, "It's okay if they don't like me now. If I work hard and put them first, they'll accept me eventually."

They wanted her to marry Roger, so she agreed. Her brothers didn't want her getting too powerful, so she acted clueless and average. But behind the scenes, she was quietly taking out their threats and protecting both the Jenkins and the Gibson families.

As Waylon's fingers held her jaw tightly, her warm tears fell on his hand, running down his knuckles. His expression wavered. The coldness faded just for a second. Then, he let go.

Alexia's voice shook, still raspy from the rain. "Waylon, you were right. They tossed me aside after exploiting me. For more than twenty years, I gave them everything I had. I was so stupid."

It was a long time before Waylon finally spoke again. "You were not stupid. They just weren't worth it."

But Alexia didn't respond.

He turned to look at her and saw her fast asleep.

Later that night, Alexia suddenly came down with a high fever.

Santino Blake, Waylon's personal doctor, got pulled out of bed by a single call and had to grab his stuff and rush over late at night.

With his years of experience, Santino quickly ran a full checkup. He stood by the bed, looking at Alexia's pale, tired face, and let out a soft sigh.