The Rightful Successor

Chapter 4

Alex woke up and found Brielle lying next to him, fast asleep. He focused on her face, the face that had captivated him. Ignoring her nakedness, he got up and put on a shirt. As he stood, Brielle woke up and put on a robe. They both locked eyes and stared at each other.

"Sorry about last night, I shouldn't have done that," Alex apologized. Brielle burst into laughter.

"Oh my god, you're such a wimp, Alex. I was the one who initiated it, remember?" she said. Alex nodded and walked into the main room. He poured himself a glass of vodka and sighed with satisfaction as he drank it. He poured another glass and downed it quickly.

"Can I join you?" a voice asked. Alex turned to see Amelia looking at him, her usual haughty expression softened.

"No," Alex replied, in a bad mood and not wanting any trouble. He didn't trust Amelia. "Go away," he said, tilting the vodka bottle to his mouth and finishing it. The alcohol seemed to help him forget his problems. 

Amelia's soft hands found their way to his chest, but Alex knew better than to fall for her tricks. He grabbed her hands and pushed them away. She smiled.

"Why are you so loyal to Brielle? She doesn't even like you. Brielle only uses you for her own pleasure. I like you, Alex. Come with me," she purred. Alex's green eyes stared at her as he shook his head slowly.

"I don't trust you, and I never will. You've almost gotten me into trouble too many times," Alex said, plopping down onto a couch. Amelia smiled and sat beside him.

"That's true, but I did it because I want you for myself. And I promise you, you'll find me better than Brielle. Let's just go to my room and you'll see," she said, kissing him. She moaned as their lips met, tasting the lingering liquor on his mouth. His kisses were the best she had ever experienced. Alex's eyes widened, and he pushed her away.

"Jesus Amelia, why did you do that?" He whispered, and she smirked.

"It's because I like you, damn! Brielle is missing out, your lips are like heaven," she said, starting to unbutton her robe. However, Alex quickly grabbed her hands.

"Don't you dare try that," he growled, pulling her into her room, pushing her in, and closing the door behind her. He could hear her chuckling from inside.

"Sooner or later, Alex, I'll make sure you're mine," she said. Alex sighed and ran out of the house. He headed to the parking lot and sat on the pavement, wondering why his life was so messed up. From one problem to another, he still preferred dealing with Brock's anger over Amelia's schemes. Amelia was a schemer, always coming up with disastrous plans that would only get them into trouble.

"There you are," Brock's voice interrupted his thoughts, and Alex rolled his eyes. Brock was a constant pain, always trying to provoke him. "What's up, loser?" he asked, placing a hand on Alex's shoulder. In one swift move, Alex judo-flipped him, causing Brock to crash onto the floor.

"I've told you, Brock," he said, his voice filled with anger. "Don't you ever lay a hand on me." Brock grinned, seemingly amused.

"Showing your true colors, huh?" Brock smirked as he stood up. "Pretending to be docile when you're actually a damn fighter."

Alex cursed himself for revealing his skills to Brock.

"What do you want?" Alex asked, his tone filled with annoyance. Brock smiled.

"Who said I want anything?" Brock replied, sitting on the hood of his car and glaring at Alex. "I want you to divorce my sister," he continued, his voice dripping with disdain. Alex smirked sarcastically.

"I wish I could," Alex said, his voice laced with bitterness. "But you know what Grandma wants. Are you telling me you're not aware of your family's code?" Alex questioned, and Brock scowled.

"We don't believe in divorce," Brock stated firmly, and Alex nodded.

"I tried to request one yesterday, but Brielle reminded me of that," Alex explained, and Brock's scowl deepened.

"Then she's damn stupid. We don't keep codes for a loser like you," Brock growled, and Alex shrugged.

"Tell that to grandma," Alex remarked, and Brock nodded in agreement. As Brock walked away, Alex let out a tired sigh. He was exhausted and thought maybe he should grab another drink. 

Just as he stood up, his phone started ringing. Irritated, Alex scowled at the caller's persistence. He didn't want to answer, but after the twentieth call, he was ready to give them a piece of his mind. 

"Lex," the caller said, causing Alex to choke on his outburst. Only one person called him that. 

"Sir Martins?" Alex managed to say, recognizing the voice of his father's PA. 

"Please, don't hang up," the frail voice pleaded from the other end. Alex felt guilty for ignoring the calls all this time. 

"Are you still there?" Martins asked, hoping for a chance to talk. Guilt washed over Martins as he remembered when he had kicked Alex out eight years ago, following the instructions of Alex's grandfather, Theodore. Theodore despised Alex because he believed his son had impregnated another woman randomly. However, Alex's mother had been Edward's childhood lover and had gotten pregnant for him. Pa Theo resented Alex and his mother, and when she passed away, Alex was thrown out of the Styles mansion. 

The memories of the harsh treatment flooded Alex's mind, and he remembered how Martins had heartlessly thrown him out without looking back. He understood that Martins was just following Pa Theo's orders, but he had wished Martins had shown him some compassion that cold, scary night. 

"I'm sorry, Sir Martins, I have to go," Alex quickly said, about to end the call when he heard the statement that stopped him in his tracks. 

"Edward Styles is dead..." 

"Huh... What?" Alex exclaimed, shocked by the news of his father's death. Despite his deep-seated resentment towards them, he couldn't help but be touched by the news.

Edward Styles was his father, a highly influential figure in the city. The news of his death must have spread far and wide, yet Alex was the last to hear of it.

"Please, Alex, there's more to this, and I would like to meet you. Lux Resort, 2 p.m. tomorrow," the old man's voice crackled through the phone before the call ended. 

Alex remained perplexed as he processed the news, walking into a room where the headlines screamed the truth he had yet to fully grasp: "Liam Styles, the new CEO of the Styles Consortium." His father had been dead for over two weeks, and Alex was only just finding out. Regret flooded his mind for not answering the anonymous call earlier.

As he absorbed the shock, the television droned on in the background, broadcasting the voice of Brock, who had just walked in. "What a perfect time to partner with the Styles’, after the death of that arrogant man," Brock's words pierced through the air like a knife, fueling fierce anger within Alex towards the disrespect shown towards his late father.

With clenched fists, Alex struggled to contain his emotions, his heart burdened by grief and indignation over the derogatory remarks aimed at his father.