CHAPTER 125 : A MOLE?
Morning sunlight filtered softly through the enormous glass windows of Alexander's private training room, casting long golden reflections across the polished black floor.
The atmosphere inside remained tense from the very beginning. Not because either of them spoke about the previous night. But because neither of them did.
Alexander stood across from Eleanora while adjusting the black gloves around his wrists slowly, his sharp gaze fixed entirely on her posture. He wore loose training pants and a fitted black compression shirt that outlined every dangerous line of his body effortlessly.
Meanwhile Eleanora stood opposite him wearing an oversized grey t-shirt tucked carelessly into black training leggings, her hair tied into a messy high ponytail. Tiny strands stuck to her forehead from exhaustion.
"Again," Alexander instructed calmly.
Eleanora immediately lunged forward.
