Dear Ex-Wife Please Be Mine Again (Christina and Alex) novel Chapter 60

Alexander POV.

The banquet hall was practically empty. As I walked inside, I saw only the workers scurrying around, setting up tables and arranging displays. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Where were the guests? The exhibition was supposed to be in full swing by now, but the place felt like a ghost town.

I scanned the room, my gaze finally landing on her. Christiana stood at the far end of the hall, looking poised but distracted. She was pacing, her heel tapping against the polished floor every few seconds, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, showing signs of frustration she was trying to suppress.

I crossed the floor toward her. “Christiana,” I called out. Her eyes flickered to me, and I could see the tension in them. "What’s going on here?"

She stopped in her tracks and folded her arms. "Alex, what are you doing here?"

I gestured around the room. “I know you had your exhibition today. But where are the guests?”

Her lips tightened, and for a moment, I could see her internal battle to keep it together. “I have no idea,” she admitted quietly, eyes shifting toward the entrance as if expecting someone to finally walk in. “Everything was going perfectly. Invitations were sent, advertisements were on TV and online… but no one’s here. It’s like—”

“Like something’s wrong,” I finished for her.

She nodded. “Yes, exactly.” Her voice was laced with frustration, though she was doing her best to stay calm. "We’ve been checking everything, but it all seems fine. And yet—" She bit down harder on her lip, her heel tapping faster now.

I could see it—she was on the verge of cracking, but still holding it together with an air of grace only Christiana could pull off under these circumstances. It took all her strength not to let her frustration show, but I knew her too well. Every little tick, every little gesture betrayed her inner turmoil.

Something wasn’t adding up. The fact that no one had shown up for an event like this—it was suspicious. I stepped closer to her, my voice lowering. “Something’s off, Christiana. Let me look into this.”

She shot me a glance that was equal parts exasperation and vulnerability. “Alex, I can handle it. I just need to figure out what went wrong.”

But I wasn’t buying it. “You shouldn’t have to handle it alone.”

I stepped out of the banquet hall and pulled out my phone, quickly dialing James. He answered on the second ring. “James, I need you to dig up any information you can on any major events happening today. Something's off here. Christiana’s exhibition is empty, and I want to know why.”

“Yes, sir,” James responded, his tone sharp and efficient as always. “I’ll get right on it.”

I hung up and re-entered the hall. Christiana hadn’t moved much, though I noticed her tapping had slowed. She was still biting her lip, her gaze sweeping over the empty space like she was willing guests to materialize.

Minutes passed. My phone buzzed, and I picked it up immediately. “What do you have for me, James?”

His voice came through the line, and I could feel my blood begin to boil. “Sir, there’s a man named Roger Wilkes. He’s holding an exhibition of jewelry too. It looks like he timed it to coincide with Ms. Christiana’s event.”

I clenched my jaw. “Go on.”

“Wilkes’ men intercepted her delivery trucks some days ago. They roughed up the drivers, stole the invitation cards, and tampered with them. That’s why none of Christiana’s guests have shown up. They’re all at Wilkes’ venue.”

The surge of fury that rushed through me was hard to contain. Roger Wilkes. That name alone was enough to set me off. He was a petty businessman who had made a career of sabotaging competitors, but this? Stealing guests, tampering with invites? This was personal. It wasn’t just business—it was Christiana.

I could feel my hand tightening around the phone. This man was no match for me, and he had the audacity to pull something like this? He didn’t know who he was messing with. I was going to deal with Wilkes—no doubt about that. But right now, Christiana needed her event to succeed. It was her first exhibition since she moved back into the city, and the fact that she didn’t want me in her life didn’t change the fact that she was the mother of my children. I had to fix this.

I hung up and turned back to Christiana. She was watching me, a tad of hope and with the frustration in her eyes.

I stepped closer, my voice firm. “Christiana, I know what happened. It was sabotage.”

Her eyes widened. “Sabotage? By who?”

“Roger Wilkes,” I said, the name dripping with disgust. “He tampered with your invitations and stole your guests. They’re at his venue right now.”

For a moment, her expression was blank, as if trying to process the sheer absurdity of the situation. And then the frustration she’d been hiding surfaced, her lips parting in disbelief. "That bastard..."