The cold metal cuffs snapped tightly around Serena’s wrists, the metallic clink jolting her into harsh reality. She stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes locked on the two uniformed officers.“Miss Alvarez, you’re under investigation for a hit-and-run,” one officer repeated, holding up a tablet displaying grainy footage of the incident. “This is the surveillance video. It shows clearly that at 6:25 p.m. you hit the Bentley’s rear and left without any contact information. The owner demands to hold you accountable.” Her heart sank as the video played. It clearly showed her car rolling forward and colliding with a Bentley after being struck from behind. But the angle failed to capture the speeding vehicle responsible for the initial impact, making her look solely at fault.“This is a mistake,” Serena said, her voice steady despite the growing knot of anxiety in her chest. “Another car hit me first. I didn’t—”The officer raised a hand, silencing her. “You can explain at the station. Plea
The sun climbed over the skyline, casting long shadows across New York’s bustling streets. Jonathan adjusted his tie nervously as he paced outside Alexander’s office. The investigation into the hit-and-run had taken most of the night, but they finally had results—results that pointed to Miss Alvarez’s innocence. He knew Alexander well enough to understand how his boss hated being wrong, especially when it involved personal matters. He clutched a folder containing the results of a night-long investigation that finally shed light on the hit-and-run incident.With a steadying breath, Jonathan knocked on the door and entered. Alexander was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his hands tucked into his pockets, a cold morning light casting shadows across his sharp features.“Sir,” Jonathan began, holding out a folder, “we’ve identified the other vehicle involved in the incident. It belongs to Veronica Taylor, wife of Henry Taylor.” Alexander’s brow furrowed. “Veronica Taylor?” That na
Later that afternoon, Jonathan returned to Alexander’s office with a report. “Sir, the police have officially delivered an apology to Miss Alvarez, and the charges have been dropped.”“Good,” Alexander replied, though his tone remained cold and detached. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the polished mahogany desk as he drifted into thought.Jonathan hesitated before speaking again, choosing his words with care. “Would you like me to arrange a call with Miss Alvarez? A gesture from you might go a long way in mending things.”Alexander’s eyes flicked toward him, sharp as ever but devoid of anger. Instead, there was something else—hesitation, perhaps? He loathed unresolved matters, and this situation felt particularly tangled. Yet, the idea of reaching out gnawed at his pride.“No need,” he said after a long pause. Jonathan gave a curt nod and quietly left the office, leaving Alexander alone with his thoughts.As the door clicked shut, Alexander leaned back in his chair, exhaling slow
Serena’s parted lips trembled faintly, a delicate contrast to her shallow, erratic breaths. The effects of the psychedelic drug made her gaze misty, her usual sharpness was dulled. Her eyes, misted and unfocused, held a vulnerability that tugged at Alexander in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Alexander’s mind flickered with images he had deliberately tried to forget, but her current state brought them rushing back—memories of the way she had looked at him that night.For reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend, his heart skipped a beat.Feeling his steady warmth beneath her trembling fingers, Serena instinctively tightened her grip around him, her petite frame pressing closer against his rigid form. She wasn’t thinking—she couldn’t. All she knew was that Alexander felt like the only anchor in her swirling, feverish world. Michael, standing mere feet away, grew increasingly bewildered. His‘Didn’t Alexander deny that she was his wife earlier today? So what’s going on now?’ His mind spun with
Alexander stood beside the bathtub, his trousers clinging to his legs, soaked from the water Serena had splashed. The damp fabric did little to hide his body’s involuntary reaction—a response he found both unexpected and infuriating. The faint memories of that night, which he had worked hard to suppress, now resurfaced with maddening clarity.He had never imagined that a simple word—honey—could unsettle him like this.“If you’re sober, get out,” he said gruffly, though his voice came out hoarser than intended.Serena’s wet clothes clung to her body, tracing every curve in stark detail. Her long black hair, slick and plastered to her flushed cheeks, made her look like a siren emerging from the depths of the sea—innocent and seductive in equal measure. She smiled faintly, her expression dazed, as if unaware of how disheveled yet alluring she appeared.Feeling the oppressive heat return, Serena shifted, preparing to climb out of the tub. But Alexander wasn’t about to let her. Without hes
Serena stood barefoot, dripping wet, her long hair plastered against her back. Droplets of water trickled down her neck, soaking the towel clutched tightly around her chest. Her bare toes curled subconsciously, as if seeking stability on the cold floor. She looked fragile yet resilient, her discomfort betrayed only by the slight tremble in her posture. Alexander’s gaze flicked down, lingering momentarily on her soaked figure. Her drenched clothes clung tightly to her form, outlining every curve. He closed his laptop with a soft click, leaning back with a sneer. “Honey?” he echoed mockingly, his tone sharp. “You’re not even bothering to hide your agenda anymore, are you?” His words sliced through the already fragile atmosphere, making Serena flinch inwardly. Serena instinctively glanced down at herself, only to notice her current state—drenched, with the outline of her underwear starkly visible beneath the thin towel. Embarrassment surged through her like a tidal wave. Her face, pale
Alexander froze, certain he had misheard her. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying Serena with a mixture of confusion and intrigue.Serena, unfazed by his silence, retracted her hand with practiced ease, her expression remaining composed. She had expected a reaction—just not this one.“I’ve tried reaching out to you several times, but you didn’t seem interested. Perhaps, since you still have my work in hand, this is a better time to discuss it,” she said smoothly, her voice even and professional. “If so, I assume I still have a chance to make it up to you.”In all his life, Alexander Vanderbilt had never encountered a situation quite like this. He, who always maintained control, now found himself momentarily caught off guard.The words interior designer echoed in his mind. His gaze dropped to the photo he was holding, and for the first time, he noticed the small, neat signature at the bottom—Ava Alvarez. Alongside it was a number, presumably her contact information.A frown creased hi
The room grew silent, the ticking of the wall clock amplifying the tension. Alexander remained still, caught off guard by Serena’s composed response. For a moment, he wondered if he was hallucinating. Did she just call him her husband? Had she mistaken him for someone else, or was this part of a ploy he didn’t fully understand?Under the soft glow of the crystal chandelier, Serena’s face was serene as she continued. “I can’t remember what happened that night in detail, and I assume you’ve forgotten as well. I apologize for addressing you improperly earlier.”Her tone was even, devoid of any trace of awkwardness. She shifted the conversation effortlessly back to business. “If you’re interested in my design work, feel free to share your requirements.” Her professionalism made it clear that she had no intention of dwelling on what had transpired. Araminta’s scheming may have led to that night, but Serena wasn’t about to let it dictate her future.Alexander remained silent, his mind drift
After slipping into the driver’s seat, Alexander gripped the steering wheel with ease and guided the car through the dimming city streets. The soft glow of the dashboard cast shadows across his sharp features, his mind somewhere far from the road.At a red light, another car rolled to a stop beside his. Out of habit, Alexander glanced over—and froze. Through the half-open window, framed by the city’s ambient glow, he saw her. Ava.She stared straight ahead, unaware of his gaze, her expression distant and unreadable. The shape of her face, the gentle curve of her mouth, the slight dip of her lashes—it all looked achingly familiar. He lowered his window and tapped the horn twice, sharp and deliberate.Inside the car, Ava flinched slightly, pulled from her thoughts. She turned her head—and for a heartbeat, time seemed to fracture. There was a strange pull in that moment—like a thread from another life. Maybe it was the streetlight, or maybe it was the letter still echoing in her mind: “
As Ava drove through the quiet streets back to the Upper West Side, the city outside blurred behind the windshield. Rex sat quietly beside her, head resting on his paws. Just as she turned into her neighborhood, her phone buzzed with a call.“Miss Alvarez, good morning,” came a polite voice from a courier company. “We have a gift addressed to you, sent several years ago. It was scheduled specifically to arrive today. May I confirm your current address so we can deliver it?”Serena blinked. “A gift? From years ago?”“Yes, ma’am. It was pre-arranged for delivery on today’s date.”Still confused, she gave her address and ended the call.Not long after she got home and removed Rex’s leash, the doorbell rang. She opened it to find a deliveryman holding a wooden box—aged and worn, its corners smoothed by time. It was unlike any package she’d received before.After signing for it, she stood at the doorway for a moment, staring down at the box. She hadn’t ordered anything like this. But she h
On the other side of the town, upon being kicked out by Serena a few times, Sergio, consumed with envy over his brother Alfonso’s wealth and frustrated by his own sons’ unemployment, confided in his mother, Martina, that he suspected Serena wasn’t Alfonso’s biological daughter due to her alluring looks. Driven by malice, he secretly conducted a paternity test using Serena’s hair, believing that if she wasn’t truly Alfonso’s child—especially now with Araminta and Valentina disgraced and Josh incapacitated—his own sons could rightfully claim the Morales family fortune. When the results arrived confirming no biological link between Alfonso and Serena, Sergio, Martina, and Ricardo, thrilled by the opportunity, immediately set out to confront the Morales family.---It was midday at the Morales family estate, and the aroma of freshly prepared dishes lingered through the marble-floored hallways. The dining room was elegantly set—linen napkins folded precisely, silverware gleaming, and steam
Ava Alvarez remained stranded on the top floor, her heels aching and her body weary. The elevator wouldn't budge without a keycard, and for privacy and security reasons, the stairwell doors were locked from the inside. Whoever designed this place clearly didn’t want anyone wandering up or down without clearance—and Alexander had clearly forgotten that detail when he left.She was quite literally forgotten there.With a resigned sigh, Ava pulled out her phone and tried calling Alexander. No answer. His phone had likely been on silent since he arrived at the rooftop lounge, drowning in the soft thrum of music, clinking glasses, and idle conversation.Hours passed.It wasn’t until nearly eleven, long after the event had ended, that Alexander finally checked his phone. Three missed calls. A single message.> [I don’t have a card…]There were no emojis, no exclamation marks—just plain text. But something about the simplicity made it worse. It read like quiet frustration. Like she had curled
Colton barely spared a glance at the chaos unraveling behind him. With a cool indifference that only years of elite breeding could cultivate, he stepped around Ava Alvarez, still on the ground, and disappeared into the nearby private room as if she were nothing more than a misplaced handbag.Ava knelt slowly, her trembling hands reaching for the scattered items Rachel had so carelessly stuffed into the gift box. The embarrassment crept up her spine like ice. She hadn’t even unwrapped the gift, let alone imagined its contents tumbling across polished marble for the world to see.Just as she reached for one of the smaller items—a sleek, suggestively shaped accessory—she heard Alexander Vanderbilt’s voice, cold and commanding.“Hugo, go inside.”Hugo’s chuckle was low and teasing as he passed them. “Oh boy, someone’s in for it now.”Now only Ava and Alexander remained in the corridor, the air heavy with unsaid words. One of the items had landed near Alexander's polished leather shoe, and
Meanwhile, Alexander had just touched down on foreign soil. The sleek wheels of the private jet had barely cooled before he was ushered into a waiting car—Victoria trailing a few steps behind.The sun was beginning to dip below the skyline, casting a golden hue over the glass buildings around them. But the warmth of the city didn’t seem to reach Victoria’s mood.The auction had been a disappointment.Those who had flown in from all over the world had come chasing one thing—a rumored masterpiece by the elusive Master Remington. The buzz had been relentless, the anticipation feverish. Collectors, curators, and connoisseurs all gathered under one roof, poised to outbid one another for a chance at owning a piece of immortality.But the pièce de résistance had never arrived.Instead, the organizers had presented a different set of paintings—fine works, certainly, but none carrying the master’s signature. Whispers swirled through the crowd: the Remington piece had already been given away. P
Ava had just stepped out of the shower, the steam still curling around her from the bathroom. Wrapped in soft pajamas and with her damp hair towel-dried and tousled, she was about to unwind for the evening when a message lit up her phone.It was from the property management office:“Dear resident, we’ve prepared a small gift for you. Please collect it in the underground garage.”It wasn’t unusual in this kind of upscale community. Services like this—holiday gifts, complimentary deliveries—were standard perks. She assumed it was another seasonal gesture and didn’t think much of it.She threw on a light cardigan over her pajamas and slipped into house slippers. There was no need to dress up just to walk through her own building. The community was secure, and the garage private—no one would bat an eye.The garage, however, was packed.Dimly lit rows of polished luxury vehicles stretched in every direction. She stepped carefully between them, the click of her slippers echoing softly. As s
Alexander sat at his sleek glass desk, a shaft of afternoon light slanting across the surface. His fingers moved with precision as he reviewed the final pages of a thick document. With a quiet finality, he pushed the folder forward.Jonathan, ever efficient, stepped forward to take it, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment. As he turned to leave, the door opened and another figure appeared.Victoria.She stopped short, clearly startled to find Alexander at the office today—especially considering he had been at the hotel earlier. And it was Saturday.Recovering quickly, she walked in with her usual grace, her heels tapping softly against the polished floor."Alexander," she began, her tone casual but calculated, "news just came in from Spain. Master Remington’s painting is officially going up for auction. Everyone’s flying in for it this week—even Colton’s confirmed his attendance. When are you planning to leave?"She studied his face as she spoke, carefully watching for a flicker
Ava shot upright in bed, her heart thudding as her eyes scanned the breaking news headlines on her phone.Ryan Kuzmin Detained in International Crime Probe—PW Group Offices Raided.Details unfolded line by line like a script in a legal thriller. Ryan had been arrested on suspicion of overseas criminal activity. That morning, the authorities had swept through PW Group’s towering headquarters, raiding offices and seizing documents. The scandal was larger than anyone had anticipated.Further investigations revealed damning evidence: years of tax evasion, vast embezzlement schemes, and a tightly knit circle of executives siphoning company funds for personal gain.The outcome was swift—and brutal.PW Group had been slammed with devastating penalties. Their bank accounts frozen. Assets forcibly liquidated. Half their senior executives were already behind bars.And Ryan? He now faced the terrifying possibility of a twenty-year prison sentence.All of it—undeniably—was Alexander’s doing.With