Carla's gaze locked onto the man's face, and her confidence shattered like glass. The air in the room grew thick, suffocating. "What the hell is this?" she snapped, her voice low and sharp as she turned to her men, fury flickering in her eyes.
The two exchanged nervous glances. "There was chaos after the drink spill," one of them stammered. "We grabbed him from the restroom, just like you said. We thought-"
"You thought?" Carla hissed, stepping closer, her fists clenched. "Do you have any idea what you've done? That's not Alexander!"
The man groaned again, stirring against the grip of the guards. But he wasn't struggling. No, he was composed… too composed. And then he smirked.
Carla's blood ran cold.
"Well," he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement, "this is an interesting turn of events."
She took a slow step forward, her pulse pounding in her ears. This wasn't Alexander. It was William!
Her breath hitched. 'How did this happen? This can't be happening!'
