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After the banquet, I moved directly into Alexander's private estate on Long Island.

It was a modern cliffside villa, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the surging Atlantic Ocean. The interior style was cold and hard, dominated by shades of black, white, and gray.

After the night's ordeal, I felt as though my body was falling apart. Alexander went to wash up first, and I collapsed onto the Italian leather sofa in the living room, staring blankly into space.

The sound of water came from the bathroom. Through the frosted glass, I could vaguely make out the tall silhouette of a man.

My cheeks heated up, and I quickly turned my head away.

A while later, the water stopped. When Alexander walked out, I subconsciously looked over. He was wearing only a bath towel around his waist; droplets of water slid down his solid pectoral and abdominal muscles, disappearing into the edge of the white fabric.

I drew a sharp breath.

This physique... was simply more perfect than a top male model.

Alexander, drying his hair, noticed my gaze. The corner of his mouth hooked into a teasing arc. "Victoria, perhaps you should take a shower as well." His voice carried the huskiness of one who had just bathed.

I snapped back to reality, grabbed my pajamas, and rushed into the bathroom. Splashing cold water on my face, I tried to calm myself down.

How had I never noticed before that this "Uncle" was so charismatic?

Only after finishing my shower did I realize I had made a fatal error—I had forgotten to bring my underwear.

Damn it.

I had no choice but to open the bathroom door a crack and call out, "Alexander, I forgot something. Could you hand me the paper bag on the sofa?"

Silence reigned outside. I thought he wasn't in the room. Just as I was about to call out again, footsteps approached the door.

"Here."

A long, powerful hand appeared through the crack, holding the paper bag.

I reached out a hand to take it, trying my best not to expose too much of myself.

"Thank you," I whispered, quickly shutting the door.

But in that split second, I still met his gaze. There was a flame burning in those eyes that made my heart panic.

Good heavens. He hadn't handed me the whole bag; he had taken out that specific piece of lace lingerie and handed it to me directly.