Chapter 147/Caught Red-Handed

Chapter 147: 147/Caught Red-Handed

Chapter 146

**Stephanie’s Point of View**

The maid left the room with quiet, barely audible steps, leaving behind the faint click of the closing latch. I remained standing in the center of the room, feeling myself slowly sink into a deep, viscous swamp of dark thoughts regarding this new disaster that had loomed on the horizon without warning. What was this grim secret resting within the walls of the basement? And why was that maid targeting me specifically with this venomous agreement that coiled around my neck like a viper?

How would I manage to steal a golden key whose exact shape, size, and hiding place I didn’t even know? The questions crowded my head, clawing at my mind like burning whips and leaving me utterly helpless. Feeling a desperate need to escape the heavy burden of my thoughts, I left my scattered garments and walked with heavy steps toward the bathroom, hoping I could wash away this escalating tension beneath streams of hot water that I wished could cleanse me of this filth.

I turned on the faucet, and thick steam billowed up, obscuring my vision just as these sudden twists had obscured the path of my life. I stood beneath the blistering spray for a long time, watching the water slide down my skin, helping to soothe my temporary shivering.

When I finished, I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping my body in a white cotton bathrobe and gripping its edges tightly over my chest, only to be startled by the fact that Alex had just entered the room. He was standing near the bed, looking weathered by a long day. Our eyes locked, and he looked at me with calm eyes, speaking in his deep, warm masculine tone: "Good evening, Steph."

At that exact moment, and for the first time since we shared a roof, a strange, cold shiver of terror raced through my limbs in his presence. My stomach muscles clenched violently; the thought that this man sleeping beside me and sharing my intimate details was hiding a dangerous, terrifying secret in the basement of his house made me feel an absolute lack of security and a stark loneliness in a place that was supposed by law and logic to be my home and safe haven.

I averted my gaze from him apprehensively, answering in a low voice that was barely a whisper: "Good evening."

He sighed deeply as he shed his heavy formal blazer with routine movements, beginning to advance toward me with slow steps weighed down by exhaustion. His back seemed slightly bent under the weight of his responsibilities as he spoke in a faint tone: "I am completely exhausted and drained today." He drew closer to me, until I felt his breath brushing the skin of my face.

He planted a light, warm kiss on my lips, then tilted his head slightly to whisper beside my ear: "I desperately needed this kiss from you to wash away the exhaustion and stress I’ve lived through over the past hours."

I didn’t comment with a single word, remaining frozen in place like a statue. But Alex possessed the intuition of a predatory hawk that never failed to read the subtle shifts in a face. He noticed my obvious agitation, my dry throat, and my trembling eyelids.

His eyes narrowed with cautious inquiry as he asked: "Stephanie... did something bad happen in my absence? Did someone upset you?"

I denied it with excessive speed, exposing my fear more than concealing it: "No, never... nothing happened."

He knit his brows slightly, his eyes studying the contours of my face intently: "Then what is wrong with you? Why do you look as if you’ve seen a ghost?"

I tried to pull myself together, speaking with a tremor I desperately attempted to suppress: "I went out shopping alone for hours today, so I just feel physically exhausted, nothing more."

His suspicion slowly dissolved, and his large palm extended to caress the strands of my wet red hair with overwhelming tenderness, running his fingers through the damp locks as he spoke in a soft tone: "Don’t exhaust yourself like this again, my sweetheart. Next time you want to go, let me know so I can clear my schedule and accompany you myself."

I spoke, my eyes anchored to the buttons of his shirt: "Alright... I will." I looked suddenly into the depths of his eyes, seeing the genuine honesty and love radiating from them. I said to myself, trying to calm the wild hammering of my heart: *Calm down, Stephanie... stop doubting him. Look at him closely... he is your husband and your man. Surely, he would never hurt you or cause your destruction.*

He cut off my musings, saying calmly: "I’ll go take a shower now to regain my energy."

He walked away from me with light steps and headed toward the bathroom. The moment the wooden door clicked shut, I seized the golden opportunity. I sprang with agile, panicked steps toward his blazer, which was tossed carelessly over the back of the wooden chair. I glanced with cautious terror toward the locked bathroom door, my fingers trembling in a scandalous display of genuine fear that made my heart beat like a violent, loud drum inside my chest, as if it wanted to burst out.

I slipped my hand with extreme caution into the first outer pocket... feeling around with trembling fingers only to find it empty nothing in it. I moved quickly to the second outer pocket... and it, too, was entirely empty.

I nearly wept from the sheer intensity of the stress. Nothing remained before me except the lined inner pocket of the blazer.

The moment I was about to thrust my fingers deep into the inner pocket in search of the wallet or the damn key, the bathroom door swung open abruptly.

Alex stepped out, wearing nothing but his trousers, his chest muscles standing out prominently under the room’s lighting. The sight made me freeze in place with pure horror, clutching the formal blazer between my trembling palms like a thief caught red-handed.

He anchored his sharp, astonished gaze on my hands, asking in a sharp, suspicious tone that pierced the silence of the room: "What exactly are you doing, Stephanie?"

My mind completely failed to invent any logical excuse or lie to extricate me from this predicament, and my tongue turned to stone in my mouth. He advanced toward me with menacing strides, asking me again as he stood inches from me: "Stephanie... I asked you, what are you doing with my blazer?"

In that critical second, a bold and unexpected lie flashed in my mind. I raised my head and spoke with forced expressions: "I want to check on something that belongs to me."

He knit his brows in deep astonishment, the space between his eyes narrowing: "And what is that thing?"