rise of the underdog

# Chapter 1: The Perfect Servant

The sound of Victoria's laughter cut through the dining room like shattered glass.

Alexander Chen paused in the doorway, the serving tray balanced perfectly in his hands, watching his wife throw her head back at something David Morrison had whispered in her ear. The crystal chandelier above cast dancing shadows across her face, highlighting the smile she never wore for him anymore.

"Alex!" Margaret Sterling's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts. "Are you going to stand there all night, or are you actually going to serve the wine?"

"Of course, Mrs. Sterling. My apologies." Alex moved forward smoothly, his expression unchanged despite the familiar sting of his mother-in-law's tone. He'd perfected this mask over three years of marriage—the dutiful, unremarkable husband who knew his place.

He began pouring the Dom Pérignon, starting with the guests as Victoria had taught him. *Always serve the guests first, Alex. We have standards to maintain.*

"This is a 2008 vintage," Robert Sterling announced importantly, swirling his glass. "Costs more than most people make in a month." His eyes found Alex with practiced cruelty. "Of course, you wouldn't know about that, would you, son?"

The table erupted in polite chuckles. Alex continued pouring, steady-handed.

"Daddy, please," Victoria said, but her tone held more amusement than reproach. "Alex works very hard at his... marketing job." The pause before 'marketing job' was so slight that only Alex caught it—the same dismissive pause she'd been using more and more lately.

"Marketing coordinator," James Sterling corrected with a smirk, Victoria's younger brother never missing a chance to twist the knife. "At what company again? Morrison Marketing Solutions?"

Alex's hand didn't shake as he filled David Morrison's glass, though his jaw tightened imperceptibly. The irony wasn't lost on him—serving wine to the man whose company had rejected his job application last year, calling him "overqualified but underexperienced." Victoria had laughed about it then, saying maybe it was a sign he should "aim more realistically."

"Actually, it's Sterling & Associates Marketing," Alex replied evenly. He'd founded the small firm himself two years ago, though he'd never mentioned that detail to Victoria's family. They preferred their version of him—the struggling employee grateful for their daughter's charity.

"Right, right." David leaned back in his chair, his arm casually brushing Victoria's shoulder. "Small firm. Very... quaint."

Victoria's fingers found David's on the table, a gesture so natural it was clearly practiced. Alex noticed everything—the way her thumb traced Morrison's knuckles, how her engagement ring caught the light as she touched another man, the soft sigh that escaped her lips when David's thumb circled her wrist.

Three years ago, those same fingers had trembled when he'd slipped that ring onto her finger. Three years ago, she'd whispered that she loved him more than air itself.

Now she couldn't even look at him without boredom glazing her eyes.

"Alex, dear," Margaret Sterling's voice dripped false sweetness. "Could you check on the roast? I'm sure our chef would appreciate your... assistance."

*Our chef.* As if the woman Victoria hired for tonight hadn't spent the last hour teaching Alex her mother's preferred seasonings because Victoria had been too busy getting ready—which apparently involved three outfit changes and an hour-long phone call with someone named 'D' who made her giggle like a schoolgirl.

"Of course." Alex set down the wine bottle and headed toward the kitchen, but not before catching the look Victoria shot David Morrison—a look full of heat and promise that used to be reserved for him.

In the kitchen, Maria Gonzalez was pulling the prime rib from the oven, muttering in Spanish under her breath.

"Problems?" Alex asked, switching to fluent Spanish.

Maria looked up, surprised. In three years, she'd never heard Victoria's husband speak anything but English. "The meat, it is perfect. But that family of yours..." She shook her head. "They treat you like hired help."

Alex smiled, the first genuine expression he'd worn all evening. "They're not my family, Maria. And technically, I am hired help tonight."

"*Ay, mijo.* A man who pays for his own humiliation." She studied his face carefully. "But you're not really what you seem, are you?"

Before Alex could respond, the kitchen door swung open. Victoria swept in, radiant in her black cocktail dress, the one he'd bought her for their anniversary last month.

"Alex, what's taking so long?" Her voice carried the edge it always had now—impatient, dismissive. "Our guests are waiting."

"The roast is ready now." Alex moved to help Maria plate the meat, but Victoria stepped between them.

"Maria can handle that. I need to talk to you." She waited until the chef busied herself at the sink. "David just offered me a position at Morrison Holdings. Marketing director. It's a huge opportunity."

Alex felt something cold settle in his chest. Morrison Holdings—David's father's company, the one that would eventually be David's. The same company that had "coincidentally" been calling Victoria for lunch meetings twice a week.

"That's wonderful," he said carefully. "When would it start?"

"Next month. But Alex..." Victoria bit her lower lip, the gesture that used to make his heart race. Now it just felt calculated. "It would mean long hours. Late nights. Travel with the executive team."

"Travel with David Morrison, you mean."

Victoria's cheeks flushed, but not with embarrassment—with irritation. "His name is David. And yes, he'd be my direct supervisor. This is business, Alex."

Through the kitchen's service window, Alex could see into the dining room. David Morrison was checking his phone, smiling at something on the screen. As Alex watched, the man looked toward the kitchen and winked.

"Is it?" Alex asked quietly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Victoria's voice sharpened.

"Nothing." Alex picked up the plated roast. "We should serve dinner before it gets cold."

Victoria caught his arm as he passed, her grip surprisingly strong. "Alex, this job... it's my chance. My opportunity to be something more than—"

"More than what, Victoria?"

"More than the wife of a marketing coordinator who can't even afford to take me somewhere nice without saving for months." The words tumbled out before she could stop them, three years of resentment flowing like poison.

Alex stared at her for a long moment. In the dining room, her family's laughter echoed off the walls—walls of the penthouse apartment he'd bought and furnished, though Victoria had never asked how he'd afforded it. She'd simply assumed her father had helped with the down payment.

"You're right," he said finally. "You deserve so much more."

Something flickered in Victoria's eyes—surprise, maybe even regret. But before she could speak, David Morrison appeared in the doorway.

"Everything alright in here? You two have been gone a while." His smile was all white teeth and predatory charm.

"Perfect timing," Alex said, hefting the platter. "Dinner is served."

As they returned to the dining room, Alex caught his reflection in the hallway mirror. Same unremarkable face, same perfectly pressed shirt, same patient smile he'd worn for three years.

But behind his dark eyes, something had shifted.

Something that had been sleeping was finally beginning to wake up.

The grandfather clock in the corner chimed nine times as Alex set the roast on the table to another round of Robert Sterling's pompous commentary. Nine o'clock on a Tuesday night in March, he noted automatically.

Later, he would remember this as the exact moment he stopped being the man Victoria had married.

And started becoming the man she was about to lose.