For the first time, Angela began to understand something she had completely overlooked.
Alexander wasn't only grieving Rosalind.
He was grieving Alicia.
Suddenly, Alexander reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
Angela froze.
He placed one between his lips and lit it.
The flame flickered briefly before dying away.
Her eyes widened.
In all the years she had known him, she had never once seen Alexander smoke.
Not when his mother died.
Not when he became CEO.
Not during the company's darkest crises.
Yet now he sat there smoking as though it had become second nature.
"When did you start smoking?" she asked quietly still in a daze.
"Recently."
His indifferent response only made her chest tighten further.
As if he was unaware of how much he had changed.
Or perhaps he simply didn't care anymore.
Angela's thoughts immediately drifted to her confrontation with Alicia at the mansion.
The cruel words she had thrown at her.
The accusations.
The insults.
