Alexander Sterling: The Bussines King's Rebirth

Chapter 2

Alexander Sterling was a man who prized cleanliness above all else. Finding himself trapped in a filthy, reeking body was unbearable, his first instinct was to wash himself. He had to do it immediately, regardless of the situation.

"Isabella..." he called the woman again. "I... I need to take a bath."

Isabella blinked. Her eyes widened as if she'd heard something utterly absurd.

"A-a bath?" she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief.

Alexander nodded. "Yes. This body feels absolutely disgusting."

Isabella fell silent. In five years of marriage, Kyle had never once cared about hygiene. Bathing even once a week was considered excessive to him. His body always reeked of alcohol and sweat, and of course, he would fly into a rage if Isabella dared to remind him.

"You... you want to bathe?" Isabella asked again, as if she couldn't quite believe it.

"Is there no water?" Alexander asked back, his voice still gentle.

Isabella was stunned. She stared at the man before her, the same face as Kyle, but with completely different eyes and a completely different way of speaking.

Slowly, she nodded.

"I... I'll prepare the water."

Isabella walked to the small kitchen at the back of the house. Carefully, she lit the stove and heated water in a large pot. Her hands trembled slightly, whether from fear or confusion, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that every time she did something for Kyle, there was always risk involved. Either she'd be yelled at, or worse, beaten.

But this time, the man just sat quietly waiting. No screaming. No cursing. Isabella found herself wondering, was this really the Kyle she had known all these years?

After the water was warm, Isabella poured it into a large plastic bucket they usually used for bathing.

"The water is ready," Isabella called from the bathroom doorway, her voice still cautious.

Alexander stood up slowly. His body felt weak, his knees trembling. He walked toward the bathroom and glanced back at Isabella.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Isabella could only stand frozen, watching the bathroom door close. She heard the sound of water being poured over a body, and for the first time in five years, she didn't hear any curses or insults coming from behind that door. Instead, what she'd received was a word of thanks.

The very first thank you Isabella had ever heard since becoming that man's wife.

Meanwhile, inside the bathroom, as he washed his body with warm water, Alexander caught his reflection in the cracked mirror on the wall. A stranger's face stared back, prominent cheekbones, sunken eyes, pale yellowish skin. Needle marks were clearly visible on his arms, some still fresh and purple.

This was him now. This face and body were what he had to use. Whether he liked it or not, he now had to live as Kyle.

After bathing and dressing, Alexander emerged feeling slightly fresher. Even so, he still felt an overwhelming weakness, his head pounding, hands trembling, knees feeling like cotton.

He looked at Isabella, who was still sitting in the corner of the room with a wary expression.

"Isabella," he called softly.

The woman looked up, her body tensing slightly, as if Kyle's voice had always been a danger alarm for her.

"What?"

Alexander hesitated for a moment. He was truly hungry now, but he felt awkward asking for food.

As Alexander Sterling, a business tycoon, he was used to commanding and being served. But his body now was Kyle's, and standing before him was a wife who had been wronged countless times by that man. Alexander wasn't sure how to behave.

"Is there... anything to eat?" he asked carefully. "I'm really hungry." In the end, Alexander chose honesty.

Isabella stared at him with an expression of disbelief. As far as she could remember, Kyle never asked politely. Kyle always screamed, "FOOD! NOW!" without caring whether she had money or not. If food wasn't available, the blows would rain down on her.

"You... you want to eat?" Isabella asked hesitantly.

Alexander nodded. "This body is trembling. I need food, anything, it doesn't matter. As long as there's some nutrition."

Isabella fell silent. She heard those words and felt like she was listening to a stranger speak. Kyle never used words like that. Kyle only knew curses and insults.

Carefully, Isabella stood and walked to the kitchen. She opened the old wooden cabinet that was almost empty. Inside, there was only a piece of hard bread that was several days old, and a jar of peanut butter that was nearly empty, the spread had already started changing color and gave off a slightly rancid smell.

Isabella stared at the food with a sense of dread. She knew Kyle would be furious seeing this, and would throw the bread at her face. He would also scream that she couldn't provide proper food, then hit her.

But this was the last food in their house. She had no money to buy proper food. Everything had been taken by Kyle for gambling and drugs.

With trembling hands, Isabella brought the bread and peanut butter to the front room. She placed them on the wobbly wooden table.

"Here..." Isabella's voice wavered. "This is all there is. I'm sorry. I don't have money to buy anything else. You took everything—"

Isabella stopped, afraid to continue. She braced herself for the worst. But the opposite happened.

"This is enough," Alexander said softly. A reaction so calm compared to what Isabella had imagined.

The man took the bread, spread a thin layer of peanut butter on it, and took a bite. He chewed without complaint.

Isabella still stood frozen, staring at the man before her with an incredulous look. Kyle was eating stale bread without protest. Without screaming or throwing food at her.

"You..." Isabella bit her lip. "You're not angry?"

Alexander looked up, bread still in his hand.

"Why should I be angry?" he asked back.

This time, Isabella looked slightly shocked. She was certain something was wrong with Kyle. The man must have hit his head and it had affected his brain. The Kyle she knew would never be this calm after chewing stale bread with rancid peanut butter.

Isabella then sat on the wooden chair across from Alexander, still keeping her distance. Her eyes studied him intently, as if observing a specimen. She knew Kyle's change was a good thing, but it still felt so... strange.

Suddenly, Isabella remembered something. Something that made fear creep back into her heart.

"Kyle..." she called cautiously.

Alexander looked up. "Yes?"

Isabella looked down. Her hands gripped the hem of her shirt tightly, trying to stay calm even as her body began to tremble again.

"I..." her voice faltered. "I need to tell you something. And please... please don't get angry."

Alexander put down his bread. He looked at Isabella seriously. "Just say it."

Isabella took a deep breath, then lifted her head. Her eyes met Alexander's.

"Our daughter," Isabella whispered. "Kyle, please... please don't sell Lily to the nightclub."

Alexander froze.

Daughter?

Suddenly, another flood of memories surged into his mind. He saw a little girl around five years old, with curly hair and warm brown eyes just like Isabella's. Her name was Lily. And in Kyle's memories, there was a dark shadow of the local nightclub boss who often visited, offering money to take the little girl away.

Kyle had almost agreed to sell his own child for gambling money, but Isabella had fought against it fiercely, even enduring beatings from Kyle. And even though the deal fell through that time, Kyle had said he would still sell Lily another day.

Alexander felt a surge of rage. The memory made him feel utterly sick. He couldn't fathom how any father could even consider selling his own child like merchandise, for money that wasn't even that much.

Disgusting.