Watch Me Win, Alpha

Chapter 88

Felix pressed his fingers to his temples, a faint tremor running through his control. “This is dangerous, Chole. You’re not

thinking straight. Do you realize what you’re doing-

endangering not only yourself, but us?”

Chole’s attention snapped back to him, intense and singular. “I know exactly what I’m doing”

A hush fell across the room. Felix realized his attempts to reason with her were fracturing against something more dangerous than simple denial. This was obsession. Delusion. He watched, helpless, as a veneer of confidence cracked across her face.

Felix called the nurse back in. “She needs sedation. No more visitors for now!” His voice was steel.

The nurse moved toward Chole with a deal–calm injections, rest. Chole fought her off, screaming about love, rights, destiny -to which Felix stood by helplessly.

When the nurse left, Felix made eye contact with his sister one last time. He saw no trace of the sister he once knew–only a

raging storm of determination and denial.

His voice pained. “Chole… let me help you. But not like this.”

Chole sneered. “You don’t know what you’re talking about

Felix swallowed and nodded. “I do.””

He left the room before she woke again, closed the door softly.

In the hallway, Felix’s knees wavered for a moment, but he grounded himself with a slow breath. Then he walked to the waiting room.

Olivia’s POV

into a restless evening. The police investigation had wrapped

black–clad man back to

along. Chat

vague statements but no

be difficult to prove she’d hired him.

intent was obvious.

refusing to

pointed meeting with Ethan’s legal team, I decided to visit Alexander. He’d been discharged earlier and was resting in his penthouse. My motivations were mixed–gratitude,

me.

I called Mike first.

his voice neutral enough. “You can go

fruit basket–apples, grapes, a few peaches.

heart pounding. Something felt awkward. Yet the warmth from inside, the calm stillness Alexander exuded,

I stepped in.

in a plush leather armchair, his robe draped neatly, book in hand. Eyelids lowered. No surprise. He’d always been composed–even in the hospital, bandaged and bruised.

“You’re late.”

been surrounded by people

want

set

His jaw

the basket, placing it

hospitals are weird places to

rumors. People assume things.”

at the fruit,

expression unreadable. “Rumors?”

out softer than

your secretary grapes in the middle of

quiet chuckle. Not warm, but not mocking either.

didn’t know I’d been holding. “I didn’t want