[Angelina's Apartment – Bedroom] [12:08]
Angelina was upright in bed with her knees against her chest. The screen on her mobile phone had gone dark an hour back, but she hadn't taken her eyes off it even once.
She kept replaying his words.
Max, Caroline, Evangeline, Scarlett, Rachel.
She was familiar with them, but tonight Alex told her the entire tale. He did not fib or soft-pedal it. He just sat there and told her the facts just as calmly as he once used to seal multi-billion-dollar deals.
They all knew each other. There were no secrets and pretences; just people who chose to love a man who could not commit himself to one person. He treated them nicely, or so he claimed to, showing concern, attention, and loyalty in his approach.
When she asked if he was cheating on them, he shook his head, denying it. He did not feel there was betrayal on his part for what he was doing. All knew where they stood on the issue and stayed by choice.
She had also nodded but something within her appeared to crack.
She stood up and went to the window. The city sparkled down there, not minding her confusion. He insisted on her talking to the girls and listening to them. That alone made it hard to dismiss it as manipulation. Most would creep around or cover it up, but not him. He laid it all out truthfully without lying.
He told her that if she said yes, if she agreed to partake in this life, she would never be freed from him. That he would love her and take care of her until death. Angelina rested her forehead on the glass.
She wasn't naive. Hollywood was a broken-promise factory. She'd heard all the lines from all the men. But this was something different.
She could imagine it: dinners with Max and Caroline, red-carpet walks with Scarlett, and Rachel looking on with her constantly vigilant gaze. Evangeline might be over in the corner rehearsing scripts. And Alex would somehow be the center of it all, calling her over to a place at the table with an occasional kiss on her cheek.
Could she possibly do that? Could she be part of something so. honest, yet complicated?
Angelina stood by the window, then perched on the side of the bed. She was burdened by her heart but not by anger. Mostly confusion, some fear, some curiosity, and something more she did not wish to classify just yet.
She went back to bed and gazed up at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
...
[Next Morning] [Alex's Penthouse] [6:41 AM]
The early light crept in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Alex stirred first. His right arm was numb. When he shifted slightly, he felt the weight—Max, pressed up against him. She was warm, soft, tangled in sheets, one leg thrown lazily over his. Her hair covered half her face. Her big breasts pressed against his side, rising and falling with each slow breath.
On the other side, Caroline lay with her head on his chest. Her golden hair fanned out across him, her lips parted slightly as she exhaled. She had a hand draped across his stomach, fingertips resting just above the waistband of his sleep shorts. Her body was cool against his skin, like she always ran a few degrees colder than the rest of the world.
His heart skipped a beat or two from the beautiful sight. No matter how many times he sees them, every morning is just like a new morning, and he couldn't help but praise them in his mind over and over again.
He didn't move right away. The room was quiet, and their breathing filled the space like waves on a shore. For a brief second, he let himself enjoy the calm.
Caroline stirred first, her lips brushing softly against his chest. She made a small sound, sleepy but content. Max didn't move at all. She had the sleep of someone who had nothing to prove and no apologies to give. He smirked faintly. Classic Max.
He eased out from under them, gently moving Caroline's hand aside and untangling himself from Max's grip. She grunted softly and shifted, but didn't wake. He went straight to the bathroom and took a quick shower and freshened up. Then he put on a black silk robe and went to the kitchen to make some coffee.
A few minutes later...
Alex stood at the wide window with a black mug in his hand, watching the city waking up. He thought about Angelina. About her silence after he finished telling her the truth. She hadn't walked out. She just… listened. Then asked him to give her some time to think.
She needed space. He understood that. She was processing the unfiltered version of his life.
He sipped the coffee, strong and bitter. His mind ran through the day ahead: Titan board reviews, a PR meeting with Rachel, script approvals, and the pre-brief for the first Mr and Mrs Smith rehearsal block. He had things to do. A whole empire to keep moving. And not to mention, with Christmas coming, he had to put out something extra for the fans out there.
As he sipped the coffee, he heard the sound of footsteps padding across the hardwood floor. He didn't turn. He didn't need to. He knew the rhythm.
Caroline.
She came up behind him without a word, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pressed her bare body against his back. Her breasts flattened against his back as she rested her cheek between his shoulder blades.
"Morning," she whispered, voice still thick with sleep.
"Morning, beautiful," he replied, reaching back to rest his hand on her arm.
She stood there with him for a moment, breathing him in, watching the skyline with half-lidded eyes.
"You didn't sleep much," she said.
He shook his head. "Lot on my mind."
She didn't ask what. She already knew about the pressure he always endures and she does her best to make him feel relaxed, even if it's for a moment.
Instead, she kissed the space between his shoulder blades.
"You'll figure it out," she said. "You always do."
He turned slightly, enough to see her face. Her hair was a tousled halo, her lips still flushed from sleep. He bent down and kissed her. Not rushed or needy. Just a kiss between two people who knew each other better than anyone else did.
She smiled against his mouth. "Okay. Now I'm gonna steal your shower."
"Take your time," he said. "I'll make breakfast."
She kissed him once more and walked away, bare and unbothered, her steps light as air. Alex smiled, shaking his head as he failed to take his eyes off her naked butt and long legs.
Alex stayed by the window a second longer, then drank the rest of his coffee and went to the kitchen.
He started perfectly as usual: grabbing eggs from the fridge, slicing avocados, and putting sourdough in the toaster. The sizzle of bacon hit the pan, and the smell started to fill the air. He cracked a few eggs into a bowl, added a pinch of salt and pepper, then whisked them smooth. A pot of water boiled on the back burner for coffee refills, and he set a second mug beside his own.
He flipped the bacon, checked the toast, and kept his rhythm. Cooking always helped him take his mind off everything. But today he couldn't help but think of Angelina again. If she walked away, he'd understand. But if she stayed? That changed everything.
The eggs went into the pan, soft and slow. He didn't rush the scramble.
Behind him, the sound of the shower turned off.
He plated the toast, sliced a few strawberries, and began arranging the plates.
A moment later...
Alex had just finished plating the last of the food when he heard the soft thump of feet dragging across the floor.
Max.
She shuffled in with the slow, determined pace of someone half-dead and dangerously low on caffeine. Her hair was a sexy mess, tousled and falling into her eyes. She wore one of Alex's oversized black shirts, the hem grazing the tops of her thighs, sleeves covering her hands. The collar hung loose, exposing one shoulder and the hickey just beneath it.
She didn't say a word. Just slumped into the chair at the dining table like gravity had finally won.
Her eyes were barely open.
"Morning, sunshine," Alex said, amused.
Max let out a low, guttural noise that could've meant good morning, I hate you, or feed me before I kill again.
He slid a fresh cup of coffee across the table.
She reached for it with both hands like a starving Victorian orphan, sipped, then exhaled like she'd just been resuscitated.
"Jesus Christ," she mumbled. "I think I sprained something last night."
Alex smirked as he carried the plates over. He placed one in front of her.
"You didn't complain at the time."
"I was too busy trying to survive," she said, stabbing a piece of bacon with her fork and chewing like a zombie waking up mid-apocalypse. "And who the hell does three positions back-to-back after 2 AM? Are you possessed?"
He poured himself another cup and leaned against the counter.
"You started it," he said calmly.
"I was joking," she replied, mouth full. "And you fucked me till four and made me squirt like... Arg! I stopped counting after the sixth burst."
"You said, and I quote, 'Bet you can't handle this ass in reverse cowgirl.'"
She blinked, chewing slowly. "Yeah, okay. That sounds like me. We haven't done anal in a while, and I might have gotten a bit overexcited. But you owe me a massage."
Alex chuckled and shook his head.
Max took another sip of coffee, then looked up at him through heavy lids.
"Where's Caroline?" she asked, less sharp now. "Don't tell me she's up and glowing already."
"Shower," he said, flipping a strawberry onto her plate with his fingers.
Max reached for it absently.
There was a quiet moment between them. The kind that only happens after a long night of chaos and a morning filled with nothing but good food and the kind of silence that feels earned.
"You okay?" she asked suddenly, not looking at him.
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Why?"
"You've got that whole 'thinking about something complicated but pretending you're not' face going."
He took a sip of coffee and didn't answer right away. Max waited.
"I told Angelina everything," he said finally.
Max paused, toast halfway to her mouth.
"Everything-everything?" she asked.
He nodded. "Names, dynamics, history. Didn't sugarcoat a damn thing."
Max stared at him for a second, then nodded slowly.
"Well, shit," she said, setting her toast down. "That's either going to break it or make it something real."
"I know."
"You want her to say yes?"
"I want her to choose with her eyes open."
Max leaned back, ran a hand through her hair, and said, "Well, it'd be fun if she says yes. Can't wait for her to get jealous of Max Black hogging the top spot. Ahem! I mean, yeah, we'll do our best to make her feel welcome." She grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.
..
..
[Three Days Later] [Titan HQ – Animation Division, 2nd Floor] [7:42 AM]
The second floor of Titan HQ, which was once a maze of underused conference rooms and dusty archive closets, was now a fully transformed battlefield of digital creation.
Every corner buzzed with activity. A sprawling open-plan space hummed with the sound of styluses tapping Cintiq tablets, render servers cooling under pressure, and dozens of elite animators locked in focused silence. Massive screens displayed real-time renders: web fluid dynamics, cityscape lighting tests, costume animation passes, and early mood boards.
Rachel stood in the center of it all. She looked flawless as ever in an all-black pantsuit, holding his signature digital clipboard, eyes scanning the morning progress logs like she was preparing to launch a missile. She had personally recruited the best people in the animation field from all over the world. The NDA she made them sign? So airtight it probably had a body count.
Behind her, a 12-foot digital board glowed with one title:
"SPIDER-MAN: Christmas Chaos"
Written by Alex Wilson
Target Release: December 25, 2005
---[AN: Guys, please read the latest review. 🤣🤣🤣 Like, he didn't even read a single chapter and dropped a review.]
[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS PLS]
Support link: www.patr eon.com/UnknownMaster
[6 advance chs] [All chs available for all tiers] [No double billing.]
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