Chapter 8: The South Side Apology
Three agonizing hours later, Alexander sat in his dark office, staring blindly at a laptop screen. He hadn’t read a single word. His chest felt hollowed out, aching in a way he hadn’t experienced since his father passed away.
His cell phone vibrated violently against the desk. It was James, his highly efficient personal assistant.
Alexander hit speaker. “What is it, James?”
“Mr. Montgomery, I am incredibly sorry to bother you at this hour, but I thought you should know immediately. I just received a highly unusual call from Marcus Webb.”
Alexander sat up straight, his blood turning to ice. “What did he want?”
“He sounded panicked, sir. He wanted to know if you were satisfied with the photographs. He said Victoria Sterling explicitly instructed him to call and confirm that the setup went exactly according to her plan.”
The floor completely vanished beneath Alexander’s feet. He gripped the edge of his mahogany desk, his knuckles turning stark white.
“Say that again, James.”
“I believe you were set up, sir. Victoria orchestrated the entire hotel encounter to frame Miss Gonzalez.”
Alexander didn’t even hang up. He bolted out of the chair, sprinted to the garage, and threw himself into his sports car.
Twenty minutes later, Alexander was pounding his fists furiously against the heavy wooden door of Marcus Webb’s luxury penthouse apartment.
When Marcus swung the door open and saw the absolute murderous rage on Alexander Montgomery’s face, all the color drained from the sleazy developer’s face.
“Montgomery! I—”
Alexander grabbed Marcus by the collar of his silk shirt and slammed him hard against the hallway wall. “You are going to tell me exactly what you and Victoria did today. Every single detail. Right now. Or I am throwing you off this balcony.”
Five minutes later, Alexander was back in his car. He had the full, sickening confession. Victoria had paid Marcus fifty thousand dollars to stage the scene. She had hired the private investigator. She had planned every single detail to completely destroy Mia’s reputation.
And Mia had been an entirely innocent, desperate victim just trying to pay for her brother’s heart medication.
Alexander gripped the steering wheel, his hands shaking violently. He had made the biggest, most catastrophic mistake of his entire life. He had viciously doubted the one person who had never lied to him, who had never tried to manipulate him, and who had always been exactly who she claimed to be.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Mia’s number. It rang five times and went straight to voicemail. He tried again. Voicemail.
Alexander slammed his hand against the steering wheel. He knew what he had to do.
Alexander Montgomery had never driven to the South Side of Chicago. His GPS usually directed him to gated communities with French-sounding names and sprawling driveways.
But there he was, parked on a Thursday evening in front of a small, faded blue one-story house. The sidewalks were cracked, the streetlights flickered, and kids were playing basketball on the corner.
He stepped out of his car, adjusting his $2,000 suit jacket. He felt like an absolute alien stepping onto a foreign planet. But Mia wasn’t answering his calls, and he owed her a face-to-face apology.
He walked up to the small porch, dodging a neatly arranged row of potted ferns, and knocked on the screen door.
A woman in her late fifties opened the inner door. She had Mia’s exact dark, piercing eyes and a warm, albeit cautious, smile. “Can I help you?”
“Good evening, Mrs. Gonzalez. I’m Alexander Montgomery. I… I work with Mia.”
Carmen Gonzalez’s expression instantly hardened into protective maternal armor. “Oh. You’re the boss.”
“Yes, ma’am. I would very much like to speak with her, if that’s okay.”
Carmen looked him up and down, her eyes scanning his expensive suit and gold watch as if she could see the guilt radiating off his skin. She turned her head slightly toward the hallway. “Mia! Your millionaire boss is here!”
A few seconds later, Mia appeared in the doorway. She was wearing faded denim shorts and a baggy Chicago Bulls t-shirt. Her eyes were red and puffy. When she saw Alexander standing on her porch, her face hardened into stone.
“Alexander,” she crossed her arms defensively. “What are you doing here? I quit.”
“I came to talk,” Alexander pleaded, his voice thick with regret. “Please, Mia. You haven’t answered my calls. I had to come.”
Carmen glanced between the billionaire and her heartbroken daughter. “Well, since you drove all this way in that fancy car, come on in. I’m not leaving you out on the porch like some desperate door-to-door salesman.”
“Mom, that’s not necessary,” Mia hissed.
“Mia Gonzalez, where are your manners?” Carmen scolded softly. “Come in, young man. I just made fresh coffee.”
Alexander cautiously followed both women inside. The living room was incredibly small, completely dominated by an ancient floral couch, but it was spotless and cozy. The walls were covered floor-to-ceiling in framed family photos. The rich, mouth-watering smell of roasted chicken and garlic filled the air.
“Have a seat,” Carmen instructed, pointing to the couch. “Mia tells me your house is bigger than our entire neighborhood block.”
Mia blushed furiously. “Mom!”
“I’m just making conversation,” Carmen shrugged.
Just then, a teenage boy walked into the room from the kitchen. He was dangerously thin, his skin a bit pale, but he had a bright, infectious smile. “This must be the famous boss,” he said, holding out a hand. “I’m Nico. Thanks for giving my highly annoying sister a job.”
“Nice to meet you, Nico,” Alexander said, shaking the boy’s hand gently, realizing this was the brother whose heart was failing. The brother Mia had sacrificed her pride for.
Carmen brought in a tray with mismatched, chipped ceramic mugs filled with steaming black coffee. She sat down heavily in an armchair. “So, Mr. Montgomery. What exactly brings you to our humble home?”
Alexander looked at Mia, who was sitting on the very edge of the couch, staring at the floor, refusing to look at him.
He took a deep breath. He had never begged for anything in his life.
“I came to apologize to Mia,” Alexander said, his voice ringing with absolute sincerity. “I made a catastrophic mistake.”
“And what kind of mistake was that?” Carmen asked, slipping into full interrogation mode.
“Mom, please don’t,” Mia murmured.
“No, let him speak,” Nico chimed in, crossing his arms. “If this guy made you cry, I want to know exactly why.”
Alexander’s heart shattered. He looked at Mia. “You cried?”
“That’s none of your business,” Mia snapped, swiping at her eyes.
“It is my business,” Alexander insisted, leaning forward, ignoring the mother and brother watching them like hawks. “Mia, I found out the truth. About Marcus Webb. About Victoria paying him off. I know you were set up.”
Mia finally looked up, her dark eyes flashing with pain. “Congratulations. You figured it out after I walked out the door.”
“I should have trusted you,” Alexander said, his voice breaking. “I should have asked you before I ever accused you. I was terrified, Mia. When I saw those photos, I panicked because I was starting to feel something incredibly real for you, and it scared the life out of me.”
Silence blanketed the small living room. Nico’s eyes went wide. Carmen slowly set her coffee mug down.
“You… you were scared?” Mia asked softly.
“Yes,” Alexander confessed, completely abandoning his corporate armor. “I chose to believe the lie because it was easier than risking being a fool in love. I ruined everything. And I am so, so incredibly sorry.”
At that exact moment, a loud whistle blew from the kitchen stove.
Carmen stood up, clapping her hands together. “Well! Dinner is ready. Do you eat chicken and rice, Mr. Montgomery?”
Alexander blinked, suffering from emotional whiplash. “I… yes, ma’am.”
“Excellent. You’re staying for dinner. That way, you two can talk properly without screaming on my front lawn.”
“Mom, he probably has fancy reservations somewhere,” Mia protested.
“I would be honored to stay,” Alexander said quickly, giving Mia a pleading look.
An hour later, the billionaire CEO of Montgomery Tech was sitting at a tiny, wobbly wooden table, eating the best roasted chicken he had ever tasted off a chipped plate. Carmen spent the entire dinner telling highly embarrassing stories about Mia’s childhood, while Nico asked Alexander a million questions about engineering software.
For the first time in his entire life, Alexander felt like he was sitting with a real family.
After dinner, while Carmen and Nico went to the living room to watch a telenovela, Mia stood at the small sink, aggressively scrubbing a frying pan.
Alexander quietly stood up, took off his expensive suit jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his silk shirt, and picked up a dish towel.
“What are you doing?” Mia asked, completely baffled.
“Drying,” Alexander said simply, taking a wet plate from the drying rack.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
They stood side by side in the cramped kitchen. It felt wildly intimate. Alexander washing dishes in a South Side kitchen was something Mia never thought she would witness in this lifetime.
“Your family is amazing,” Alexander said softly, drying a fork.
“They’re all I’ve got,” Mia replied, keeping her eyes on the suds. “That’s why I took that hotel job, Alexander. For Nico’s surgery. I would never betray you.”
Alexander stopped drying. He reached out and gently touched her arm, forcing her to look at him.
“I know. And I promise you, Mia, I will never doubt you again. Please come back. Not as my fake girlfriend. As… just come back.”
Mia looked deep into his dark, remorseful eyes. She saw the truth there.
“One condition,” she finally whispered.
“Anything.”
“Next time someone brings you a rumor about me, you ask me first. No yelling. No jumping to conclusions.”
“I swear it.”
“And one more thing,” Mia added, pulling her arm away slightly. “I’m coming back to work as your housekeeper. That’s it. I am completely done pretending to be your girlfriend.”
Alexander felt a sharp, painful twinge of disappointment. “Why?”
“Because if this ever turns into something real,” Mia said, looking him dead in the eye, “I want it to be because you actually chose me. Not because you needed a convenient excuse to avoid an arranged marriage.”
Alexander smiled slowly, a heavy weight lifting off his chest. “That is incredibly fair.”
“Good. Now finish drying those plates, boss.”
