The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 486

Alex yawned, both hands raised in a lazy stretch, completely unfazed by the disaster unfolding at the table.

Beatrix and the others sat frozen, faces drained of color.

“I think I’ve had enough drama for today,” Alex said, voice flat, bored, done.

He turned to Renata. “Hey. you’ve eaten. Why don’t we get out of here? This place is a circus.”

His calm tone snapped Renata out of her shock. She blinked, looked at him, then glanced nervously toward Gerhard, Beatrix, Conrad, and Annabella—each of them in a humiliated, miserable state.

“What about them?” she asked quietly, concern still gripping her voice.

Alex shrugged, cool and unbothered.

“Let them clean up their own mess. They can call Mommy, Daddy, or Grandmother to bail them out and pay for whatever disaster they created.”

He tilted his head slightly. “We’re useless here except as the awkward third wheel. Unless you plan to pay for them—which you can’t—there’s nothing you can do.”

Renata, still dazed, fell into step beside Alex Saint-Claire as he walked out.

The restaurant manager and Viscount Leopold both gave Alex a stiff, respectful bow as he passed.

Outside the private room, the staff practically lined up. Every employee lowered their head as Alex and Renata walked through the hallway.

The limousine-like skycar was already waiting at the entrance, sleek and immaculate, the driver standing by with the door open.

One of the staff members hurried forward and handed Renata a beautifully wrapped box.

“What is this?” Renata asked, startled.

“A selection of dishes that can be reheated easily, and a bottle of wine for you, Miss,” the staff member replied with perfect courtesy.

Renata stared at the gift in disbelief. She had never received anything like this from a restaurant before.

She glanced at Alex. His face was unreadable—calm, indifferent, as if the bows, the gifts, the deference were nothing out of the ordinary.

He carried the aura of someone long accustomed to this world: distant, elite, untouchable.

Renata felt a sudden chill of awe—like he was wrapped in a fog she couldn’t see through, a depth she couldn’t measure.

When the limousine-skycar stopped at the next location, Renata’s breath caught.

“This is…” she whispered.

Alex glanced at her. “The best hotel in all of Prussia. Eden Group’s crown jewel. They call it Paradise Hotel for a reason.”

The vehicle lowered gracefully, and Renata realized—this wasn’t just a hotel.

It was the kind of place people only whispered about.

And she was stepping into it with Alex Saint-Claire.

The luxury hit Renata the moment she stepped inside.

It wasn’t the cold, futuristic style she expected from Prussia.

This place wrapped its wealth in traditional design—warm wood, carved stone, soft golden light—old-world elegance fused with modern perfection.

It felt sacred. Untouchable.

Different from any hotel she had ever seen.

Just like at the restaurant, a line of staff appeared instantly. Every single one bowed deeply.

“Welcome to Paradise Hotel, Lady Renata Winter.”

Renata froze. Lady?

She stared as the hotel manager stepped forward and handed her a sleek black card.

“This is your access card, Lady Renata. Please tap it to your bracelet—your penthouse key will be permanently linked.”

“Penthouse?” Renata repeated, stunned.

She shot a quick look at Alex—shocked, confused, almost betrayed.

Sofina had warned her not to expect anything from her “poor husband,” the man who supposedly worked as nothing more than a gardener for the Eden Group.

She told herself she’d just tolerate Alex for the sake of friendship.

But now?

She was receiving the kind of welcome reserved for royalty.

“There you go,” Alex said lightly. “Enjoy your stay. I won’t interfere.”

Renata still had a thousand questions swirling in her head, but one jumped to the front—reckless, blunt, and unfiltered.

“Then… how about you stay a moment in my room? We can talk and if everything goes well, we can have sex.”

Alex stiffened. Just for a moment.

Then he remembered—Prussia’s culture was different.

In Estoria, intimacy meant emotion.

In Prussia, it was treated like a logical agreement, a casual pastime, about as serious as asking someone to play a round of cards.

No feelings required.

No attachment.

Just genetics and desire.

Renata was breathtaking—one of the most beautiful women in the world—and yet Alex only gave her a cold, cutting sneer.

“No.”

Renata crossed her arms, “Alex, you didn’t have to reject me that fast. You could’ve at least pretended to think about it.”

Alex let out a tired sigh. “And give you false hope?”

“Hope?” Renata frowned. “It’s just sex. You have a good body, I’m healthy—we’re basically working out.”

“Exactly. Just small stuff,” Alex said. “And yet you’re glaring at me like I kicked your childhood puppy.”

“I’m glaring because no man has ever refused me,” she snapped.

“Then consider this character development.”

“For who?” she demanded.

“For you. Obviously.”

Renata blinked, genuinely shocked.

No man had ever refused her.

“What?”

Alex’s composure cracked. Shock flashed across his face.

Logan continued, grim but still smiling at the absurdity of the situation.

“You have to stop them,” Alex ordered sharply.

“I’m trying,” Logan said. “But—you need to see it yourself. You’re the king. Only you might stop this.”

Logan switched the connection.

The screen changed.

A live feed appeared—a massive offline meeting hall, the largest gathering of Estoria’s governors in history.

Hundreds of powerful military leaders sat at long tables, arguing, shouting, demanding.

War plans. Budgets. Mobilization. Recruitment.

Charts. Maps. Red markers circling Prussia.

Alex’s face hardened.

On the front row of the massive conference hall, Alex saw their faces clearly on the screen:

Bella Kane — Governor of Vermont, eyes sharp with fury.

Sophia Lancaster — Governor of Paris State, lips pressed tight in cold judgment.

Lyra Thompson — Governor of Chicago State, arms crossed, radiating hostility.

Jasmine Kingston — Governor of Vancouver, glaring like she was ready to draw blood.

Josephine Everheart — Governor of Columbia State, tapping her pen with dangerous impatience.

Kelly Knight — Governor of Los Angeles, expression carved from stone.

Every one of them was focused on the same thing.

A single image projected on the enormous central screen.

Alex’s jaw tightened as he finally saw it clearly.

It was a picture—

of him and Sofina Scheinwald

kissing.

This wasn’t tension.

This was a storm.

A storm coming straight for him.

Logan smirked, unable to hide the satisfaction in his eyes.

Inside, he was practically saying, I knew it. I knew this would finally make you panic.