The Live‑In Son‑In‑Law Who Ruled The World

Chapter 7 — The Apology That Never Came

Alexander lay on that overly soft bed for the entire night.

When dawn came, his eyes were still open, carrying a faint redness in them. But his spirit was surprisingly not bad; his chest rose and fell steadily, and most of his color had returned. The injuries from the night before seemed to have been swallowed by the darkness, leaving only the shirt tossed on the chair with its torn edges and dried bloodstains to remind him that none of it had been a dream.

Soon, the sound of high heels came from outside the door—urgent, sharp, carrying an air that brooked no refusal.

Aurelia had arrived early.

She had even brought Vivian along, as if afraid that today's apology might go wrong and she needed her best friend as an advisor.

The bedroom door was pushed open without even a knock.

"Alexander, I told you yesterday. We're apologizing today."

"Why aren't you up yet?"

Aurelia's words trailed off as she froze.

The man on the bed half sat up, his pajama collar hanging open, revealing broad swaths of cool, pale skin over a solid chest and sharp abdominal lines. His physique was nothing like that of a man who had stayed at home for years—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, a hard, clean outline, as if he could pull someone into his embrace at any moment.

Vivian froze too, her breath catching for a beat.

Aurelia's face first stiffened, then flushed with annoyance.

"Why are you dressed like that?"

"Trying to seduce someone?"

"Put on long sleeves and long pants before you come out!"

With that, she grabbed the still‑dazed Vivian by the arm, turned, and left, walking so fast she almost fled.

Only the tips of her ears, pink and impossible to hide, betrayed her.

Once the door closed, Vivian finally came to her senses, her heart still racing.

Good heavens. This was no househusband. He looked like a naked man who had just stepped out of a magazine.

A thought flashed inappropriately through her mind:that body must feel amazing to touch. The male models she had ordered at the bar last time couldn't hold a candle to him.

Aurelia, you lucky girl. And yet here you are, hiding a male model at home and complaining about him nonstop.

But she showed nothing on her face, only testing the waters as if casually.

"You're really going to make Alexander apologize to Nahir?"

"He didn't do anything wrong yesterday, did he?"

Aurelia glared at her immediately upon hearing this.

"Are you my best friend or his?"

"He didn't do anything wrong, but he offended my guest."

"He's the one I've waited so long to have back."

She paused, raising her chin slightly, the light in her eyes almost obsessive.

"Although he's my husband."

"Some gaps are just gaps. Standing together, one is like dust, the other like a star."

Just as she finished speaking, the bedroom door opened.

Alexander had already changed his clothes. He stood by the door, but his fingers unconsciously pressed against where he had been injured the night before. The surface marks had long since disappeared, but only he knew that the skin and flesh there had been torn open last night.

Now it felt as if something inside had been hollowed out as well.

Aurelia saw him, and her expression turned sour for a moment.

Clearly, she hadn't expected him to overhear that sentence.

Vivian cleared her throat lightly and took the initiative to raise her hand in greeting.

"Morning."

"I heard you got hurt saving Aurelia yesterday. How are your injuries?"

"Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Alexander looked at her, his Adam's apple shifting slightly.

A person he barely knew was asking if he was badly hurt.

But the person closest to him in name had eyes only for another man's dignity.

The fragile calm he had been barely maintaining nearly shattered.

After a moment, he still spoke gently.

"I'm fine now."

"Thank you for your concern, Miss Vivian."

Aurelia, however, gave a cold laugh.

"Of course he's fine."

"He put on such a good act yesterday, and today there's not a scratch on him. That's a fast recovery."

The corners of Alexander's mouth twitched.

"It wasn't an act—"

"Enough."

Aurelia cut him off directly.

"I don't want to hear your excuses."

"Every time you explain, you just interfere with my judgment."

Alexander looked at her. The last trace of warmth in his eyes faded.

"You've been like this since yesterday."

"Never letting me finish."

"If that's the case, let's go."

With that, he walked straight toward the door.

Aurelia was choked by his attitude, her expression growing even worse, but she still followed in her high heels.

Vivian lagged behind, unable to stop her gaze from lingering on Alexander's back.

She had seen yesterday's injuries with her own eyes. They couldn't have been fake.

Nahir had been there too, and had tacitly confirmed the matter.

Yet now, there wasn't a single mark on Alexander.

She suddenly remembered hearing her parents mention when she was young that there were mysterious people in the city who came and went without a trace, whose bodies were different from ordinary people—as if sustained by some power, wounds that wouldn't stay.

What if…

She shivered violently and quickly suppressed the absurd thought.

How could that be possible? An ordinary man who had married into a family three years ago, how could he have such an outlandish fate?

Still, the thought had taken root.

Downstairs, the car was already waiting at the door.

Alexander stepped forward to take the passenger seat, but Aurelia reached out and stopped him.

"You sit in the back."

"Nah gets carsick easily. The front passenger seat is for him."

Alexander's movements paused.

As if something had finally torn completely apart at that moment.

So that was why every time they went out before, Aurelia wouldn't let him ride in the front passenger seat. It wasn't because she was worried about the danger, afraid he would be more severely hurt in a crash.

It was because that seat had always been reserved for someone else.

The truth was so naked it was almost ugly.

He lowered his eyes, said nothing, and quietly sat down in the back seat.

The car soon started, moving with astonishing speed, as if eager to meet someone precious.

The scenery outside the window receded. Alexander sat in the back, his fingers slowly tightening.

He suddenly had a very clear premonition.

From today on, he and Aurelia would probably really drift further and further apart.

The car stopped in front of Nahir's house.

Soon, Nahir got into the car, smiling as he settled into the front passenger seat, his tone familiar and natural, as if that had always been his place.

Aurelia's gaze softened when she looked at him.

The four soon arrived at Kairo Coffee.

The café's exterior wall was cool white, the glass doors polished to a shine. The people coming and going at the entrance carried a refined, relaxed air. As soon as Alexander approached, he clearly sensed the stares landing on him.

Sizing him up, contempt, and undisguised disdain.

The waiter at the door looked him up and down, frowned, and spoke in a lowered voice.

"Sorry, sir."

"We don't need any part‑time workers here today."