A few days after Grumpy's search for Cassandra hit a dead end, Snow received an unexpected message: "Meet me. I have information about Cassandra." The sender was Alex. A jolt of anger and confusion shot through her. How could he know about Cassandra? she thought, the question echoing the recent conversation she'd overheard between Andreas and Grumpy. Her heart hammered with a mix of fury at his audacity and a desperate need for answers.
She met him at a secluded cafe, her guard up, every nerve on edge. Alex, lounging elegantly, smirked as she approached. "Snow Whitey," he drawled, his eyes sweeping over her with a possessive glint that made her skin crawl. "Took you long enough."
"What do you want, Alex?" Snow demanded, her voice tight with suppressed anger. "And how do you know about Cassandra?"
Alex chuckled, a low, unsettling sound. "Ah, always straight to the point. Well, let's just say I have excellent hearing. And my own… sources." He leaned forward, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "I overheard your charming prince and his stooge, Grumpy, talking about Mr. Frank and how they couldn't find Miss Cassandra. So, I decided to do them a favor."
Snow bristled, her hands clenching into fists. "You have no right to interfere!"
"Temper, temper," Alex purred, holding up a hand. "You'll want to hear this. Because Miss Cassandra is my manager."
Snow stared, aghast. Her mind reeled. Cassandra? Her Cassandra, the one who had always seemed so kind, so loyal, now working for Alex Charm?
"And," Alex continued, savoring her shock, "she admitted to me that she was paid to vote against you."
A cold dread washed over Snow. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "Cassandra… she was good to me. I don't understand why she would…"
"Oh, she explained everything," Alex interrupted, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his inner jacket pocket and slid it across the table. "Here are her details. Go confirm it yourself. She's quite eager to tell her side of the story now that she's found a comfortable landing spot."
Snow, stunned and hurting, could only manage a choked, "Thank you, Alex, for finding her." The words tasted like ash, but the need to understand, to confront Cassandra, was overwhelming.
Alex's smirk widened. "A thank you? Oh, Snow Whitey, that won't be enough to pay me back."
Snow frowned, confused. "Pay you back? For what?"
Alex leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Just a dinner. Tonight. My driver will come pick you up by 8 PM." He paused, his gaze lingering on her. "Don't bother to choose what to wear. Everything will be available in your room." He rose, his dark gaze still fixed on Snow, his smile predatory. "You'll surely be mine, Snow Whitey." With that chilling promise, he sauntered out, leaving Snow with the crumpled paper and a heart full of renewed betrayal and a profound sense of unease.