Five Years Later
Alex POV
"And with these projections, we estimate a 35% increase in revenue by the fourth quarter," I concluded, clicking to the final slide of my presentation.
There was silence in the boardroom of Lane International's New York headquarters. Twenty pairs of eyes looked at the data on the screen, some narrowing in calculation, others expanding in amazement.
"These numbers from Hong Kong," Thomas Bennett, one of the senior board members, leaned forward. "They're impressive, Ms. Lane. Your branch has outperformed every projection we had."
I allowed myself a small smile. I'd dropped the Coleman name the day I left for Hong Kong, reclaiming my maiden name along with my identity. "Thank you, Mr. Bennett. My team deserves most of the credit."
"Don't be modest," Alyssa Li, our CFO, interjected. "The Hong Kong transformation has your fingerprints all over it. Which is why we're all eager to hear your proposal for the US expansion."
"Before we move to that," Richard Maxwell, another board member, interrupted. "There's the matter of... well, the Coleman merger proposal."
My heart skipped a beat, but my face remained impassive. Of course they'd bring this up.
"The Coleman Corporation has been quite persistent," he continued, sliding a folder across the table. "Michael Coleman himself has requested a meeting."
Five years ago, that name would have shattered me. Now, it was just another business transaction.
"Their company is struggling," I stated flatly, not bothering to open the folder. "Their Asian market share has dropped 60% since we established ourselves in Hong Kong. They're not looking for a merger, they're looking for a bailout."
"But considering your history with Mr. Colema-" Richard began.
"My history," I cut him off smoothly, "is precisely why I built this company from the ground up, separate from the Coleman name. We're not in the business of saving failing companies, Mr. Maxwell. We're in the business of growth."
Alyssa's lips curled into an approving smile. She'd been one of my strongest supporters when I'd first arrived in Hong Kong, lost and broken however determined.
"Now," I stood, commanding the room once again. "Shall we discuss how we're going to revolutionize the US market?"
As I launched into my next presentation, I caught my reflection in the glass walls - tailored black suit, hair swept back in a sleek bun, posture radiating confidence. The scared, naive girl who'd fled to Hong Kong was gone.
In her place stood Alexandra Lane, CEO of Lane International, the woman who'd turned a single branch into a global empire.
The irony wasn't lost on me, I'd finally become the powerful CEO's wife Michael had wanted. Except now, I was the CEO.
And I wasn't anyone's wife.
I concluded the meeting, packed my things and left before anyone could get up or ask me anything.
Damn it, I'm late. I thought as I got in the car and instructed my chauffeur to drive fast. Fast enough to miss the driver's speed limit.
"Alexandra Lane speaking," I answered my phone without checking the ID, still scanning through the merger documents.
"You're late!" Sally, my best friend, shrill voice made me wince.
"I'm on my way-"
"ON YOUR WAY?" She practically screeched. "The show starts in twenty minutes!"
I cursed under my breath as I glanced at my watch. "Can you stall?"
"Stall? It's a talent show, Alex! What am I supposed to do? Make the kids juggle longer?"
"Sally-"
"He's been asking for you every five minutes. You know how he gets when you're not here."
My heart clenched. "I know, I know. Just... give me fifteen minutes."
"Ten. That's all I can manage."
"Done." I ended the call, then leaned forward in my seat. "Mr. West?"
My chauffeur's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. "Yes, ma'am?"
"We need the shortcut."
A small smile tugged at his lips. "Seatbelt, ma'am. This might get interesting."
I barely had time to click my belt before he swerved into a side street, the sleek black car weaving through traffic like we were in an action movie. The merger papers scattered across my lap, but I couldn't care less.
Some meetings could be rescheduled. Some things could wait.
But if I miss another one of Griffin's performances, he'll never let me hear it.
We got to the West Borough Elementary school in a jiffy thanks to Mr. West's impeccable driving skills, even if my organs were rearranged from all the turns but it was worth it.
I was 20 minutes late, running as I kept my fingers crossed not to have missed his part.
I followed the direction that says ‘Talent Show Here’ and got into a dark hall full of parents and guidance.
I stood as I followed my eyes to a little boy in a bear costume saying a poem at the front of the hall. All eyes on him. In front of the crowd.
We had practiced day and night for this part.
I watched my son on stage, my heart swelling with pride. Those early years in Hong Kong had been the hardest, throwing myself into work, rebuilding Elliott's struggling branch while trying to rebuild myself.
Then came the news broadcasts. Michael and Maria's lavish wedding. Their first child. Their second. Each announcement felt like a fresh wound, reminding me of everything I'd lost. The pictures of them, looking perfect and happy, haunted my lonely nights in my empty apartment.
But I worked harder. Proved myself. After three years, Elliott made me CEO, handing over the entire company and I came back to the United States. I thought it would fill the void, but something was still missing.
Then came the truth that changed everything.
"There were twins," Elliott had finally told me one night. "You didn't lose just one baby that day, Alex. You were carrying two. One survived, it's called vanishing twin syndrome. I am sorry for keeping him from you, but I needed to make sure you were prepared.”
The crowd erupted in cheers as Griffin concluded his poem with a flourish. He raced toward me in his bear costume as soon as he saw me, his little face beaming.
"Mommy! You made it!" He crashed into my legs. "Did you hear me? I didn't forget anything!"
I knelt down, straightening his crooked bear ears. "You were perfect, baby."
He beamed at me with those familiar blue eyes, his father's eyes, but on Griffin's face, they held nothing but joy and innocence.
"Ice cream?" he asked hopefully, already trying to wriggle out of his costume.
"Definitely ice cream," I laughed, helping him with the zipper.
As we walked to the car, his tiny hand in mine, I thought about how far we'd both come. My miracle baby. The son I thought I'd lost. The second chance I never knew I had.
The baby Michael would never, ever know about.
Alex POV I woke up early with everywhere still quiet. Like always, I reached for the empty side of the bed, which was Griffin's spot since he didn't like sleeping in his room after some dream he had. I stood up and walked to the balcony of my penthouse. The lights from nearby buildings twinkled like stars against the dark morning sky. The sky looked beautiful, painted in soft shades of blue and pink. I could hear my son Griffin talking and laughing with Mrs. Barrett, our nanny, downstairs. Their voices made me feel warm. The sound of pots and pans clanking in the kitchen meant breakfast was on the way. My hot coffee sat next to my bed - black, no sugar, just the way I needed it to face another challenging day. I'd been awake since 2 AM before eventually dozing off, reading business reports and checking markets, trying to figure out what to do next. The Coleman problem kept bothering me, like a splinter I couldn't remove. Every time I thought about it, my stomach tigh
Michael POV Morning light cut across my desk, warming the mahogany surface I'd been staring at since dawn. Below my window, New York stirred to life, car horns, voices, the pulse of the city I'd always called home. And yet my so-called home is starting to crumble before my very eyes with my company, my sweat and everything going down the drain. I traced my finger along the edge of the manila folder in front of me. Another quarter, another loss. The numbers told a story I didn't want to read - our Hong Kong market share dropping month after month, each percentage point a wound inflicted by Lane fucking International. The thought of that name pisses me off beyond normal, but as much as they are poison to us, they are also an antidote to get to the point we need, however, they keep tuning down our request for a meeting without a reason and I'm getting tired. Like what do they want? My company is dying every second I'm here doing nothing but my patience is thinning rather fa
Alex POV "Rachel, I said no." My voice came out sharper than intended, cutting through the morning quiet of my office."But Ms. Lane, Mr. Coleman is very insistent–" Rachel's voice through the speaker was honey-sweet, almost pleading which was sickening to the least like a whining a child. "I don't care if he's the Emperor of China. The answer is no." I ended the call and slumped back in my chair, the familiar leather cooling my tension-hot skin."That bastard still won't take no for an answer?"I looked up to see Sally in my doorway, a vision in black silk and red-soled heels. The sight of my best friend brought the first real smile to my face all morning."What gave it away?" I asked, gesturing for her to come in."That vein in your forehead that only appears when you're dealing with supreme idiots." Sally dropped onto my office couch with practiced grace. "Or when you're thinking about Michael Coleman.""Same thing, isn't it?""Want to talk about it?"I rubbed my temples, feeling
Alex POVThe atmosphere in the seminar hall crackled with possibility—bright LED lights casting a crisp glow over the sleek mahogany tables arranged in a horseshoe formation for breakout sessions. Two hundred pairs of eyes fixed on me as I wrapped up my talk on disruptive innovation and sustainable entrepreneurship. The space hummed with the energy of young minds eager to reshape the world, their notebooks filled with hastily scribbled ideas and dreams too big for their pages. I thrived here, drawing strength from their raw ambition and unfiltered enthusiasm. This was my element now—inspiring change, not playing trophy wife at cocktail parties.Then the double doors burst open with a crack that felt like a gunshot.The unmistakable rhythm of Italian leather shoes striking marble flooring echoed across the room—a sound I hadn't heard in five years but would recognize anywhere. My heart stumbled over its next beat, but my expression remained fixed in a practiced smile, the kind that had
Alex POVThe late afternoon sun slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the downtown conference center, casting long shadows across the marble floor. I stood there, my hands trembling slightly as I gathered my materials—a betrayal of the composure I fought to maintain. The tablet screen flickered as I powered it down, reflecting my face for a moment: flushed cheeks, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes bright with barely contained fury. Michael Coleman's presence had turned what should have been a triumphant seminar into a battlefield of old wounds. The room still crackled with the electricity of our confrontation, though the young entrepreneurs who'd witnessed it had long since filed out, their whispers trailing behind them like smoke.My fingers brushed against the smooth leather of my Hermès bag—a gift to myself when Lane International landed its first Fortune 500 client. Everything I owned now, I'd earned. Every single thing.The click of my heels against the floor echoed
Alex POVThe neon-drenched streets of New York pulsed beneath a darkening sky as I stepped out of Lane International's headquarters. The city's familiar chaos wrapped around me like a well-worn blanket—a symphony of honking horns, chattering crowds, and the distant rumble of trams. I paused, letting the cool evening air wash over my face, carrying with it the mingled scents of street food and salt breeze from the harbor.My Louboutins clicked against the pavement, each step a quiet reminder of how far I'd come from the wide-eyed teenager who first arrived in this city. Richard, my driver of five years, stood beside the gleaming black Mercedes, his weathered face creasing into a familiar smile."Miss Lane," he greeted, his voice carrying the warmth of a father figure rather than an employee. His silver-streaked hair caught the glow of the street lights as he opened the door."Thank you, Richard." I slipped into the leather sanctuary of the backseat, finally allowing my shoulders to dro
Michael's POVThe slam of my car door echoed through the underground parking garage, the sound as hollow as the ache in my chest. My fingers found their way to the steering wheel, gripping until my knuckles blanched white against the black leather. The faint scent of her perfume still lingered in my nose—jasmine and something else, something uniquely Alexandra. Even after all these years, she hadn't changed that.Alexandra Lane.The name tasted bitter on my tongue, like expensive whiskey gone bad. I could still see her standing there in that corner office, backlit by the Manhattan skyline, power radiating from her in waves. The same woman who used to wait up for me with dinner growing cold on the table, who used to trace her fingers along my jaw and whisper that I was her everything—she'd just laughed in my face. Not a gentle laugh, not even a cruel one. Worse. It was dismissive, as if I was nothing more than an amusing footnote in her story.The memory played on loop in my mind, a to
Michael's POV The morning headlines felt like a physical blow, each word a reminder of another failed marriage. Michael Coleman Divorces Maria – A Short-Lived Love Story? splashed across my tablet screen, the third such headline I'd seen today. I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose as I sat in the back of my Mercedes, the leather seat no longer providing the comfort it once did. The familiar scent of success – leather, cologne, and power – now carried an undercurrent of desperation I couldn't quite shake. The ink had barely dried on the divorce papers, my signature still fresh and decisive. Maria had cried when I told her it was over, but her tears hadn't moved me. They weren't the right tears. They weren't her tears. Maria was never meant to last – I had known it with crushing certainty the moment I slipped that overpriced ring onto her finger. The diamond had been bigger than Alexandra's, a detail that had seemed important at the time. Now it just felt pathetic. Maria
JAMES' POV Ring! The sharp chime of my alarm sliced through the silence, pulling me from the depths of sleep. My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim glow of morning light filtering through the curtains. I exhaled deeply, running a hand over my face before stretching my arm to switch off the alarm. 8:00 AM. For a moment, I simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the quiet hum of the city seep into my room. Mornings weren’t what they used to be. There was a time when I would wake up with warmth beside me, the soft sound of her breathing a comfort. But now, all that greeted me was the cold emptiness of my bed. Shaking off the thought, I sat up, rolling my shoulders and stretching my arms before cracking my neck. Routine. That’s what kept me going. I got up and dropped to the floor, settling into my usual morning workout. Pushups first. The familiar burn in my muscles was grounding, a reminder that I was still here, still fighting. "10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15," I counte
ALEX’S POV “What’s wrong? You have nothing to say now?” Michael’s voice rang through the phone, smooth yet laced with smugness. My grip tightened around the device as I swallowed hard, my mind racing for a response. "You know I—" I cut him off before he could get another word in. “Jeez, the photo was taken just a few minutes ago, and you already know about it? I’ll have to hand it to you—you’re quick,” I said, forcing my tone to stay light, masking the unease simmering beneath my skin. “The world is about to know your biggest secret, and that’s what you’re worried about?” Michael challenged. “Wrong,” I countered smoothly. “The world—alongside you—is about to come up with more stories to bring me down.” “Stories?” He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “I’ve told you this so many times, Alexandra. You can lie to the whole world, but not to me.” Again, I didn’t let him finish. “Who said anything about lying? So, just because I decided to take my friend and her son out, the wh
"Mommy, can I get two scoops today? Pleeeease?" He asked in that baby voice that was so hard to say no to.His looked up at me with those big and expectant eyes—the same eyes that had the power that could bend me to his will so easily.I pretended to think about it, tapping my chin dramatically. "Hmm... two scoops? I don't know, buddy. That's a lot of sugar." I crouched down to his level, watching his little face shift from being hopeful to the beginning stages of negotiation. His mother was a businesswoman, so that’s quite expected."But it's Saturday," he pointed out matter-of-factly, his small hands gesturing emphatically. "And you said Saturdays are for fun. You promised, remember? At breakfast?"Sally, who was standing beside me in her thick sunglasses and oversized denim jacket, smirked. "He's got you there, Alex. The kid's already developing good negotiating skills. Wonder where he gets that from?"I shot her a look before sighing dramatically. "Fine. Two scoops. But—" I held
Alex POV"Mommy, can I get two scoops today? Pleeeease?" He asked in that baby voice that was so hard to say no to.His looked up at me with those big and expectant eyes—the same eyes that had the power that could bend me to his will so easily.I pretended to think about it, tapping my chin dramatically. "Hmm... two scoops? I don't know, buddy. That's a lot of sugar." I crouched down to his level, watching his little face shift from being hopeful to the beginning stages of negotiation. His mother was a businesswoman, so that’s quite expected."But it's Saturday," he pointed out matter-of-factly, his small hands gesturing emphatically. "And you said Saturdays are for fun. You promised, remember? At breakfast?"Sally, who was standing beside me in her thick sunglasses and oversized denim jacket, smirked. "He's got you there, Alex. The kid's already developing good negotiating skills. Wonder where he gets that from?"I shot her a look before sighing dramatically. "Fine. Two scoops. But—
Alex's POV"Mommy, can I get two scoops today? Pleeeease?" He asked in that baby voice that was so hard to say no to.His looked up at me with those big and expectant eyes—the same eyes that had the power that could bend me to his will so easily.I pretended to think about it, tapping my chin dramatically. "Hmm... two scoops? I don't know, buddy. That's a lot of sugar." I crouched down to his level, watching his little face shift from being hopeful to the beginning stages of negotiation. His mother was a businesswoman, so that’s quite expected."But it's Saturday," he pointed out matter-of-factly, his small hands gesturing emphatically. "And you said Saturdays are for fun. You promised, remember? At breakfast?"Sally, who was standing beside me in her thick sunglasses and oversized denim jacket, smirked. "He's got you there, Alex. The kid's already developing good negotiating skills. Wonder where he gets that from?"I shot her a look before sighing dramatically. "Fine. Two scoops. Bu
Alex's POVI should have seen it coming.The moment I stepped into my office that morning, the tension hung in the air like a physical presence. My assistant, Erin, stood unnaturally still near my desk, her fingers hovering over her tablet with obvious hesitation, as if caught between urgency and dread. The morning sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows did nothing to warm the chill that had settled in the room."How bad is it?" I asked, though I already knew the answer from the look on her face.She swallowed hard before answering. "It's... everywhere, Ms. Lane. Every platform, every outlet." Her voice cracked slightly. "Twitter is having a field day. Instagram's flooded with the photos. Even the more reputable publications have run with it."With a resigned sigh, I crossed the room and took the tablet from her trembling hands. One glance at the screen confirmed my worst fears."SCANDAL: Alexandra Lane Spotted Getting Cozy with Infamous Ex-Convict James Vale!""Billi
Michael’s POVAlex thought she could escape the past. She thought she could run from me. But the past isn’t something you run from. The past is something that clings to you so tightly like a second skin, wraps its fingers around your neck. The past is something that follows you.And Alexandra? She is mine. Always be mine. She belonged to me. She just needed a reminder. She needed things that would keep glaring at her face and displaying the absolute truth to her.And all of that was easy to arrange.I mean I’m not Michael Coleman for nothing. Even if my company was going down by numbers, I still had power. A “chance” encounter at one of her favorite spots was something that came to mind. Since her outburst about the gift I’ve been sending her, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Thinking about the fire in her eyes. This particular place was a quiet, exclusive lounge tucked away inside the Phoenix Hotel. It was somewhere she used to frequent those days, and my source there told me tha
Michael's POVI watched the morning headlines scroll across my tablet screen, each one more sensational than the last. The coffee in my hand had gone cold, forgotten as I absorbed the media storm I'd carefully orchestrated. James Vale's past splashed across every major outlet, old wounds torn fresh again.But Alexandra wasn't reacting the way I expected.When I'd orchestrated this little media circus about James Vale, I'd been certain she would crack. That those perfectly curated headlines about his wife's death would send her running for safer ground. Alexandra had always been obsessed with her pristine reputation—it was one of the things that had driven us apart in the end.But she didn't run.Instead, she stood by him. Publicly. Defiantly.I caught a glimpse of them in some society photographer's lens—her hand on his arm, chin lifted, eyes challenging anyone to question her choice. The image made something twist in my gut. Jealousy? No. Something darker.That's when it hit me—Alexa
Alexandra's POVMy phone buzzed against my desk, interrupting the steady rhythm of keyboard clicks that had filled my office for the past three hours. I almost ignored it—another email, another crisis, another demand for my time. But something made me look.James's message glowed on the screen, deceptively simple:"Dinner. Just us. No distractions."My finger hovered over the screen as my heart did that annoying little skip it had started doing whenever his name appeared. I caught my reflection in the window—cheeks flushed, despite my best efforts to maintain composure. God, I was acting like a teenager.Everything about him screamed danger. Not the reckless, impulsive kind that I'd learned to spot a mile away—but something far more insidious. The kind of danger that wore custom Italian suits and spoke in measured tones. The kind that made you question whether you were walking into something you might never want to walk away from.And yet, I found myself typing "Yes."The restaurant w