CHAPTER 6

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 tightened with worry.

"Mom!" Griffin called out, his steps thundering up the stairs. "Mrs. Barrett made pancakes! The ones with chocolate chips, your favorite!"

I smiled. Griffin made everything better. In my world of business deals and endless meetings, he was pure happiness. His infectious energy could brighten even my darkest days. Sometimes I wondered if he knew how much he helped me just by being himself.

Today would be busy just like always meeting with lawyers upon lawyers, as well as meeting with other company executives for deals and whatnot.

I took a quick shower before hopping out to put on a sky blue suit that showed I was in charge.

Never thought I'd ever feel this way when I was with Michael. The thought of him sent unease down my spine.

Michael has been persistent attempting to contact me or rather who'd been the CEO of my company. He didn't know who I was, which I'm definitely sure since I'd paid media companies and paparazzi to not put me on anything media.

I'd rather work in silence so my success can make the noise just like always, so Michael's company asking for a business deal isn't something I need as of now.

I bid Griffin goodbye before driving off to work. I didn't need Mr. West to drive me today - I needed the thrill of driving, needed the cool Manhattan breeze to blow my problems away.

The meeting with the lawyers dragged on longer than expected when I got to work. We discussed numbers, predictions, and potential problems for hours until I could only nod and groan at their suggestions.

I found myself drifting, surfing through the Internet at some point when I stumbled upon a picture of Michael and Maria, playing happy family with their kids.

The comments made me sick: 'What a sweet family!'

'They look so happy together!'

'I've always known Michael was suffering with his previous wife!'

'What a slob that lady was, I'm sure she's regretting leaving a man like Michael. Bet she's the one suffering now.'

Comments about my supposed failings as a wife spread like wildfire. It disgusted me to see their accusations, all stemming from Michael's lying interview where he played the victim, claiming I'd left him. He put on quite a show, acting weak and pathetic like he truly loved me and was deeply hurt. People took his side, blind to the truth.

The worst part? They offered condolences and cursed my name, yet the very next day, he announced Maria as his new wife and people celebrated. Couldn't they see how wrong it was? Announcing a new wife the moment the old one was gone - and these fools ate up his lies.

I won't let their words hurt me. I'll respect their stupidity as long as they stay away from my turf, don't go poking around for dirt on me or my family. Otherwise, they'll see who I truly am.

The day passed in a blur. I was more than ready to get home, but work never really stopped. Another message from Michael's assistant buzzed on my phone - the nineteenth one. I deleted the voicemail while driving home. His company wouldn't give up, wouldn't let me be, and it was getting on my nerves.

Truth be told, a merger could boost our value, but I didn't need it. More accurately, I didn't want it. As much as I hate to admit it, I wasn't just fighting a business deal - I was fighting myself.

I'd normally say I was protecting everything I'd built and loved, but if I'm honest, I was only protecting myself. I wasn't ready to face him. To see him.

I'd made it my mission to prove to Michael I wasn't weak. Now I'm at the top of the food chain, yet a simple Internet picture of him looking smug with his wife still gets under my skin.

Why am I so angry? I don't know. No clue.

I've told myself countless times my feelings died long ago, and I mean it. I'm not foolish enough to forgive an ex after the pain he caused. I'm better than that. Bigger than him.

I just can't explain what I feel when I think of him.

But for now, whether it's hate or fear or something worse, all I care about is my son and my legacy.

I got home to Griffin's laughter echoing across the hallway. My son. My company. My life. Everything I've fought so hard to build and maintain - that's what matters now.

Not Michael Coleman.

After a cheesy pizza for dinner, the house was quiet except for Griffin's pencil moving across paper and my typing. We sat at our fancy dining table, which was too nice for homework and work emails. Griffin's colorful school papers were everywhere, next to my laptop. It was funny how this expensive table had become just a big desk. The chandelier above cast warm light over our evening routine.

"Mom, can you help with this math problem?" Griffin asked, looking confused and a little frustrated.

I looked up from my laptop. "What is it, sweetie?" I saved my work draft and closed the laptop, giving him my full attention.

"Fractions," he said softly, pushing his glasses up like I do, which made me smile. He'd picked up so many of my habits without realizing it.

I moved closer and explained step by step, breaking down the math like I would a business problem. Griffin smiled when he understood, and like I always do when he looked adorable and cute, I gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

Just as I sat back down, my phone rang. Unknown number. My gut told me it wasn't anyone I'd actually be glad to speak to but quite the opposite.

I answered in my professional voice without checking the contact's name or anything.

"Ms. Lane," the woman said smoothly. "This is Rachel from Michael Coleman's office." Her voice was practiced, polished, exactly what you'd expect from someone representing him.

Just hearing his name made me tense up like always. My fingers gripped the phone tighter.

"Rachel," I said calmly, "I've already said I'm not interested in meetings."

But Rachel wouldn't give up. "Mr. Coleman really wants to talk. He thinks there's a special opportunity for Lane International." She spoke with the confidence of someone used to getting their way.

"Thanks for trying," I said professionally, "but Lane International doesn't need Michael Coleman. We're doing fine alone."

Rachel answered quickly, "Would you just consider a quick phone call? No pressure, just talking." Her persistence was admirable but irritating.

I closed my eyes, picturing Michael's smug smile and calculating eyes that once attracted me but now represented everything I wanted to avoid.

"I'll think about it," I said, not really meaning it. Sometimes a polite lie was better than an honest rejection.

"Thank you, Ms. Lane. We'll be in touch." Her tone suggested this wouldn't be our last conversation.

After the call, I felt uneasy. I wondered if Michael already knew I ran Lane International. Would that change things? Would he see me differently?

"Mom, are you okay?" Griffin's simple question broke through my thoughts.

I nod, dropping my phone on the table as I force out a smile. “Yes baby.”

Now this is really beginning to turn to something else. Michael isn’t going to to give up, is he?

Can't he process the statement ‘no can do?’ Doesn't he understand my peace wasn't up for a bargain. Not now. Not ever. Some things were worth more than any deal he could offer.

And that thing is my life.