Three months earlier, Zac sat in his study, the soft hum of a late evening wrapping the room. His tie hung loose around his neck, and the whiskey in his glass had gone cold.
A quiet clink broke the silence—Angelo’s glass tapping against the edge of the desk. “Let me guess.” Angelo’s voice was easy, carrying a note of amusement. “It’s about her again.” Zac didn’t answer right away. He just exhaled slowly, the kind that carried weight, like something he hadn’t quite put down yet. Angelo smirked, settling deeper into his chair. “Told you she wouldn’t show up.” Zac turned the glass in his hand, watching the liquid catch the dim light. “Yeah. You did.” “I tried to warn you, but you were setting yourself up for disappointment. Zac shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to go like that.” A silence stretched between them. In his mind, he was still there—that night, at the candlelit table, staring at the bouquet he shouldn’t have brought, checking his phone until the screen blurred. “I got a new phone that afternoon. My old one was ruined at the site—cracked screen, wouldn’t even turn on,” he explained, the words coming slow, carrying more weight than he was ready to admit. Angelo tilted his head slightly, signaling for him to go on. “I swapped the SIM immediately into the new phone,” Zac continued. “We’d been texting all day. I even sent the address.” He let out a short laugh—one without humor. “Then she just… stopped texting and vanished.” Angelo raised an eyebrow. “Hold on… you sat there for hours?” Zac gave a slow nod. “Sat there like an idiot. Watching everyone else come and go.” Angelo watched Zac for a beat before shaking his head. “Man, that’s rough.” He took a sip, then added, “But, let’s be real. A stripper is never the type to stick around.” Zac dragged a hand down his face, the frustration simmering into something duller. “I tried to find her, man.” Angelo’s brows lifted. “Oh?” “Went to her workplace. Asked around.” He let out another humorless chuckle. “Martini said she probably moved on. Found a better job. Better pay.” Angelo scoffed. “And you believe that?” Zac scratched his head slightly. “I didn’t know what I was thinking.” He paused. “I was stupid.” Angelo shook his head. “Nah. You weren’t stupid. You just cared.” His voice was uncharacteristically serious. “But now? It doesn’t matter anymore.” Zac met his eyes, something unspoken settling between them. “Yeah.” Angelo cleared his throat. “So. Are you going to give Bella a chance now?” But Zac didn’t answer. **************** Back in the present, Zac sat with Angelo in the same spot where months ago, he’d nursed the sting of Mia ghosting him. “Do you remember the day I told you about my first love?” Angelo glanced up, smirking as he swirled his drink. “You mean the stripper?” Zac exhaled sharply. “Her name was—” He paused, realizing the complications it could cause if he said it out loud. Angelo leaned back, stretching out his legs. “Whatever her name was. Why bring her up now?” “You know the private investigator I hired never found her,” Zac admitted, breaking the silence. Angelo nearly choked on his drink. He set the glass down, laughing. “Wait—hold on. You actually went full detective mode? And you never told me?” Zac gave him a look, unimpressed. “Would you have let me hear the end of it?” “Hell no,” Angelo admitted, still grinning. “So, have you found her?” Angelo pressed. Zac hesitated, the memory of Tiffany—the stripper-turned-cook—clashing with his current life. But who was he to judge her over a relationship she never wanted? “Now? She’s… in the past. And I don’t regret my choice.” “Thank God!” Angelo sighed in relief, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To Bella, then.” Zac hesitated, then clinked his glass against Angelo’s. “To Bella,” he repeated, even though the words felt forced. ******************* In the kitchen, Mia worked with practiced precision, her knife moving in a steady rhythm, each slice mirroring the tightness coiling inside her. From the dining room, Bella’s voice drifted through the halls—sweet on the surface, but edged with a sharpness Mia had come to recognize. “You should take a break this weekend,” Bella suggested lightly. “Just us at The Sagamore Resort… it’s been too long.” “I’m not going, Bella,” Zac’s voice responded, flat and distant, as if he were saying the words just to say them. “It’s always too much with you.” Bella snapped in frustration. “You never create time for me.” Zac sighed, his voice softer now. “It’s not that. The project launch, the anniversary dinner… everything’s hitting at once. I need to stay focused.” “Yeah, right,” Bella retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And I’m just supposed to pretend I have no man in my life?” Zac didn’t respond. Then Mia heard a chair scrape against the floor. “Fine,” Bella said coolly. “If you don’t care, I’ll go alone.” Moments later, Bella’s footsteps echoed up the staircase as she left the room, leaving Zac behind. Mia kept her hands moving, but she could feel it—the weight in Zac’s silence. She took a step toward the dining area to sneak a peek but Zac caught her shadow. “Tiffany?” “Yes, Sir?” Mia straightened. “What are you doing here?” Zac asked, barely looking up from his laptop as though he was ignoring her gaze. “I was about to serve dessert,” she answered carefully. “We made Madam Bella’s favorite.” Zac nodded, a hint of acknowledgment in his eyes. “Yeah, but forget it. She won’t be needing that anymore… so if you’d excuse me.” Without another word, he pushed his chair back and stood, already moving toward the stairs. “Belle? Please wait!” Mia watched as he went after Bella, leaving her standing there, gripping the counter like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. It shouldn’t have mattered. It shouldn’t have hurt. But the hollow ache in her chest told her otherwise. ************************************* A week had passed since Bella left for her vacation, and the house had settled into a strange peacefulness. It wasn’t just the absence of noise—it was the absence of her presence, a relief Mia hadn’t realized she needed. Yet, the quietness did little to ease her growing anxiety. She was in the kitchen, lost in the rhythm of chopping vegetables, when Angelo strolled in, rolling up his sleeves like he belonged there. Without hesitation, he reached for a handful of diced carrots from her cutting board, popping one into his mouth with a grin. “Need a hand?” he asked, his tone light and familiar. “No, I’m good.” Mia shook her head, trying to push him away. “Shouldn’t you be with Sir Zac?” Angelo shrugged, leaning back against the counter. “Zac’s perfectly capable of brooding on his own. Besides, I’d rather be here… you’re far more interesting.” Mia glanced away, unsure how to respond. His presence was a complication she couldn’t afford, yet there was a comfort in the way he treated her like a person, not just another staff member. “You’re awfully nosy, Angelo,” she said, allowing a small smile to curve her lips. “I call it curiosity,” he countered smoothly. “So, Tiffany, tell me—why work as a household cook? A job like this doesn’t exactly scream lifelong ambition.” “Yes, I know, but right now… it pays my bills.” “Hmm… how about we discuss that over dinner tomorrow evening? I can help you find better job offers, you know.” Before she could respond, the sound of footsteps interrupted them. Both turned to see Zac standing in the doorway, his expression sharp and unreadable as usual. “Angelo,” Zac said, his tone clipped. “You seem to have a habit of being where you shouldn’t.” Angelo straightened, completely unfazed. “I was only keeping her company.” Zac’s gaze shifted to Mia, lingering just long enough to make her uncomfortable. This time, she thought she caught something in his gaze—sharp, possessive, and fleeting. “She’s not here for chitchat, Angelo,” Zac said evenly. “If you wish to work in my kitchen, you can also email your CV.” Angelo smirked, pushing himself off the counter. “Alright, boss, message received.” He turned to Mia with a conspiratorial tone. “Hey, Tiffany, 5 p.m. tomorrow, okay?” With a wink, he strolled out, leaving behind a thick silence. Zac stepped deeper into the kitchen, his presence commanding even without words. “The head cook called in sick. You’ll need to cover a double shift tomorrow night.” “Yes, sir. I’ll be here.” Mia nodded, quick to respond. As soon as Zac left the kitchen, Mia exhaled slowly, staring at the coffee machine. She had no idea how Zac took his coffee. And if she messed it up… well, she didn’t want to think about that. ********* Later that night, as Mia prepared to leave the estate, her phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, she saw Xiang’s name flash across the display. She quickly stepped into the staff bathroom, closing the door behind her. “You’ve been there for weeks now, yet we have nothing to show for it,” Xiang’s voice cut through the line, sharp and impatient. “What’s taking so long?” Mia gripped the sink, steadying herself. “I’m working on it, boss,” she said quickly. “Zac’s not someone you can just get close to—he’s careful. I just need more—” “Time isn’t a luxury we have,” Xiang interrupted. “It seems you’ve forgotten the reason your mother is still unharmed.” “I understand.” Mia’s response came in quick gasps. “If I don’t get something by tomorrow,Mia, you’ll find out just how serious I am.” The line went dead, but Mia stood there, staring at her phone, its silence pressing heavily on her. The pressure was suffocating. Every day pulled her deeper into the web she’d spun, and the way out… it was slipping further out of reach.The following day, Mia sat in front of her mirror, gliding a lipstick over her lips. Beside her, Samantha scrolled through her phone, half-watching. Then the phone rang. Mia’s face brightened at the sight of her mother’s name—until she answered. “Mom?” The ragged sobs on the other end made her stomach drop. “Mia, I-I got evicted… from my apartment!” Mia shot upright. “What? Mom, what happened?” Her mother’s voice cracked, raw with panic. “I was robbed last night, and my landlord has refused to give me an extension.” Mia’s chest tightened. “Mom, breathe. Just hold on, okay? I’ll fix this. Give me a few hours.” “Thank you, baby,” her mom whispered between tears. The line went dead, but her fingers clenched tightly on her phone. She needed to act fast, and there was only one person who could provide that kind of money without paperwork or questions. “Mia? What’s wrong?” Samantha noticed the shift in her expression immediately. Mia shot to her feet, grabbing her purse.
The room blazed with sudden light. Mia gasped, instinctively shrinking back. “Zac?” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady. Now that she was fully exposed, she tried to fight against his strong grip. Despite her smaller frame, her strength surprised him. “Let me go! I swear, I won’t cause any trouble!” she begged, her panic escalating. But Zac’s grip didn’t loosen. Instead, his voice dipped, edged with quiet menace. “This show ends now, Mia Williams.” Mia froze, her wide eyes betraying her growing fear. “How—how did you—?” Zac leaned in closer. “Mia Williams. Twenty-two years old. High school graduate. Your mother lives in Colony Town, three hours outside New York City. Your father? Currently in Princeton. And your best friend, Samantha, lives just an hour away.” His lips curled slightly. “Does that ring a bell?” She had underestimated him. To the world, Zac was a quiet heir—an unassuming “grandpa’s boy.” But beneath that façade lay something far sharper. He w
For a split second, Zac’s eyes lingered on Mia for just a breath too long, a hint of unguarded emotion flashing across them before he suppressed it. Deep down, he knew the feelings he once had for her hadn’t completely faded. But admitting it—saying it aloud—was out of the question. His ego—and his new relationship with Bella—held him captive. Voicing his true feelings wouldn’t change anything. In fact, it would only complicate the already tangled mess between them. “No, it wasn’t,” Zac finally said, his tone carefully controlled. “I said what I felt at the time.” His jaw tightened. “But what do you expect? I’m just a man.” Mia studied his face, searching for sincerity. The way he looked now… it was as though he was no longer the person she had fallen for at first sight. “Wasn’t it obvious?” Zac continued, his tone shifting into something colder. “I needed some company and I paid for your services.” Her brows furrowed, frustration boiling beneath her skin. “So it meant nothi
Mia stood frozen, gripping the form so tightly her fingers ached. She had rehearsed this conversation a hundred times in her head, convinced she was ready. But now, standing here in front of Xiang, made her feel uneasy. Xiang was not the kind of man who welcomed deviation from his carefully laid plans—he thrived on control. And she was about to disrupt that. His voice cut through her thoughts. “I don’t have all day, Mia. Speak.” Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I need to talk to you about my position.” She stepped forward, setting the form on his desk. Xiang picked it up with a quick flick of his wrist and stared at it, frowning. “What is this?” “It’s a job application—for a personal assistant,” Mia replied briskly. “A friend of Zac’s gave it to me.” His expression did not change, but his voice turned colder. "And how does this concern your work here?" Mia chose her words carefully. “I work in the kitchen. That limits how much I can observe and what I
The figure moved swiftly toward the gate, and Mia’s heart surged with hope. As he stepped closer, his face became unmistakable. It was her father, Fred Williams—tall and broad-shouldered, with neatly trimmed hair and a fitted T-shirt and jeans. He looked well—too well, nothing like the disheveled father she had last seen four years ago.Mia’s heart surged as the figure stepped out of the gate. For a moment, hope filled her chest, a flicker of disbelief in her voice as she whispered, “Daddy?”The man paused near the gate, his expression caught between surprise and discomfort. “Mia? What are you doing here? How did you find me?” His voice lowered, as though he was wary of being overheard. “I thought you stayed in…” He hesitated, “Springwood. Isn’t that where you and your mom stayed?”Mia’s breath hitched. His tone felt cold, distant, not at all the warmth she had hoped for. “You’re right, but I’m here because it’s urgent.”The man glanced uneasily at the guard standing nearby. “Excuse u
Mia’s hands shook as she dropped the shards of the vase, panic twisting her chest. She knelt beside the unconscious man, her fingers fumbling through his jacket. Who was he? Her breathing quickened as she searched for anything—an ID, a clue—anything that could explain why she was there. Suddenly, she froze. She could hear faint footsteps behind the door. Someone was coming. The sound was sharp, deliberate. Her heart pounded harder with each step. Who could that be? The door burst open, and she jumped, turning toward the noise. It was Zac. Mia’s stomach flipped at the sight of him. He stood in the doorway, tall and commanding, his sharp eyes moving from her to the man on the floor, then back to her. The calmness in his voice sent a chill down her spine. “What’s going on, Mia? What did you do?” Her heart raced. She didn’t even know where she was. The last time she checked, she’d been at least three hours away from home, stuck on a desolate street. How was Zac here?
Earlier that day, Zac checked his wristwatch—5:02 PM. He had just wrapped up another business meeting, and the weight of the day weighed heavily on his shoulders. As he loosened his tie and reached for his coat, his phone buzzed sharply on the polished desk. He looked at the caller ID—one of his private investigators.“Talk to me,” Zac said, his voice tired.“Sir, Ms. Mia Williams just fainted,” came the reply.Zac’s breath caught. “Fainted? Where is she now?”“She’s in my car. We were heading to the hospital, but—”“Hospital?” The words hit Zac harder than he expected. His brows furrowed as he shot back, “No. Take her to my house in Princeton. Make sure she’s comfortable until my doctor arrives. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”The investigator obeyed, and Zac didn’t waste a moment. He gave quick orders to his driver, grabbed his briefcase, and hurried out of the office.By the time he got to his estate near Princeton, the color of the sky was a mix of deep orange and navy, with
Mia woke to the smell of food drifting through the air. For a moment, she lay still, caught between sleep and waking. The bright exterior lights slipped through the thin curtains, casting a quiet glow in her room. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand—just past 5 a.m., the same time she always woke up.Stretching her arms above her head, she slowly sat up. Her eyes wandered to the empty chair by her bed, where she had spent hours last night, going over the questions Zac had told her to prepare. A few answers stuck in her head. Most of them didn’t. It didn’t really matter. She had a few hours left to cram, but the thought of why she was doing this lingered. Why did she care so much about obeying Zac?The answer came quickly: her mom.Mia hadn’t expected to see her mother last night. When she got home, her mom was asleep on the couch, her head resting against the armrest. She must have waited for hours, but Mia couldn’t bring herself to wake her. The soft rise and fall of her mom’s
The night of the product launch had finally come. Zac adjusted the lapels of his black tuxedo, the refined fabric sitting perfectly against his well-sculpted body. Every one of his tuxedos had a slightly different edge to it—similar in style, but never identical. He stood beside the Rolls-Royce Phantom, checking his watch. Any other night, his focus would be on the event—on the press, the investors, or his competitors. But not tonight. Not when he was waiting for her. And then Mia’s door creaked open. She came out of the house dressed to kill. Her outfit had been chosen days in advance, planned to the last detail. When Zac saw her, he suddenly forgot how to breathe. She wore a white, form-fitting gown, its smooth fabric hugging her in all the right places. Her brown hair was styled in a classy updo, revealing a generous amount of skin on her neckline. A single diamond earring caught the light, and her bold red lipstick—God help her—was perfect. So flawless that it felt almost ille
The weight of victory should have felt heavier in Angelo’s hands, but as he stepped out of the courthouse, the air around him felt strange—hollow, even. He had won. The court had ruled in his favor. His father’s empire was his. Yet, the moment his foot hit the pavement, he saw them waiting—his stepbrothers. Max, the eldest, stood at the forefront, arms crossed, his smirk barely concealed. Beside him, Romeo, the younger one, held a folder. Angelo barely had time to process the shift in energy before Max spoke. “Little brother,” he called, his tone amused. “Congratulations.” Angelo kept his face neutral, but his fingers twitched as they approached him. “This…” Max gestured lazily to the courthouse. “—is far from over.” Angelo took a breath, already exhausted. “I don’t want us to keep fighting. We can fix this—we’re family. We can make this work.” Max chuckled, shaking his head. “Family,” he repeated, dragging out the word like it amused him. “That’s rich—coming from a bastard
A few nights ago, just after Mia dropped Zac off at his condo after his birthday hangout, he stood still for a moment, watching as her car disappeared down the garage ramp. His mind was still half in the night—Mia's laughter, the chemistry between them—when the sharp click of heels echoed against the interlocked grounds.Then, in a flash, he turned.He saw Bella walking toward him as if she was on a catwalk, dressed in a fitted beige coat, knee-high boots, her usual confidence masking her expression.Her red-lipped smirk was the same as ever—sharp and tempting.“Hey, Zac,” Bella tilted her head slightly.Zac clenched his teeth. He was not in the mood for this.“What are you doing here?” His voice was low, his tone cold.Bella’s eyes crawled over him in slow motion, from the black jeans to the fitted t-shirt and sneakers. Her smirk faded just a little. “So, this is how you dress now?” She made a small, dismissive gesture. “Not bad, though.”Zac crossed his arms, already irritable. "Wha
Samantha cleared her throat, shifting to sit up properly. “Despite how this looks, the angle made it even worse.” Mia slowly exhaled, pressing her lips together. The photo was perfectly framed to spark rumors—Zac, leaning casually in his car park, Bella standing way too close, her hand resting on his chest. And then that smile. Not his usual charming, easygoing one, but just enough to stir unnecessary drama. Samantha nudged her gently. “So… are you going to ask him about it?” Mia shook her head, locking her phone and tossed it onto the couch. “Nope.” Sam blinked. “Why?” “Why should I?” Mia shrugged and got up. “Less than an hour ago, we were together and the next minute, he’s out there bonding with his ex.” Sam gave her a long, skeptical look. “Mia. Are you for real?” Mia turned with a blank expression. Samantha grinned. "You sound jealous or something." Mia raised an eyebrow and headed to the kitchen. "Me… nah." “Oh, you so are,” Samantha countered. “I am not,” Mia shot bac
“Hide your face all you want, but I can never forget the way you walk.”Derrick's gaze narrowed on her. His smile was thin, but his eyes burned with something mischievous.“Or the scent of your skin," he went on, moving closer."What do you want, Derrick?" Mia tightened her jaw. Her tone was even, but rage burned just below the surface.He took another step forward, tilting his head like he was amused. “Easy, baby. No need to get feisty.”“Don’t fucking call me that.” Her fingers curled into fists. “I don’t owe you anything. I’ve paid all my debts. So why are you here?”“I know. I’m not here for that.” His eyes swept over her outfit, taking in the way she carried herself—poised, classy, nothing like the Mia he once knew. A quiet laugh escaped him, shaking his head. “I just didn’t expect this.”Her frown deepened. “Expect what?”He gestured his hand vaguely. “You. Dating your boss.” His voice dipped into something taunting. “I thought you had more self-respect than that.”Heat flared u
Mia stood in front of the mirror, swiping a layer of gloss over her lips, when Samantha’s voice disrupted the silence.“So, let me get this straight.” Samantha leaned against the doorframe, “You say you’re being nice—because he needs emotional support, right?” Her brows lifted. “Yes?” Mia turned to meet her gaze.“Hmm… even after you woke up in his bed.”Mia sighed, pressing her lips together to even out the gloss. “And that was all. What’s there to lie about?”Samantha’s grin widened. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re actually getting all dressed up for him at this time of the evening?” She checked her wristwatch. “Or should I just say goodnight now?”Mia rolled her eyes. “It’s just 6PM, Sam. I’ll be back.”“Uh-huh.” Samantha tilted her head. “That’s what you said yesterday, and guess where you woke up?”Mia picked up her purse, shaking her head. “It won't take long. I promise.”Samantha smirked. “Exactly, your famous last words.”Mia ignored her, and slipped out the door bef
Mia froze. Did Zac really mean that? Or was he just sleep-talking? For a moment, she let herself believe it was harmless—just a brief moment of comfort. Nothing more. “Okay,” she whispered, allowing herself to sink deeper into his embrace instead of pulling away. And the night passed in silence. ******** The next time Mia opened her eyes, the room was brighter. Not from sunlight—just the soft glow of morning creeping through the curtains. She inhaled sharply, and turned—but Zac wasn’t there. Alone in bed, she sighed, pushing her hair back. She reached for her phone on the nightstand—it was only 6:12 a.m. The sky was still a dull gray, the sun yet to rise. Groggy, she mumbled, “Jeez…” and pushed the duvet off. She was still in the same clothes from the night before. She was about to head to the guest room when a familiar smell made her stop. Something was cooking. Her eyes landed on Zac in the kitchen. He stood by the counter, dressed in a different outfit from last night
Mia arrived at Zac’s condo, not waiting even a moment before leaving the car. She did not need approval for entry—she’d been here before, and beyond this, she was his fiancée. She could not be denied entry by anybody, not even the bodyguards who had been instructed not to disturb him. They only exchanged knowing glances as she passed by. Her pulse pounded against the side of her head when she stepped into the hallway. She headed for his door and punched the password into the security panel. “Zac?” she called, pushing the door open, but no one responded. The living room carried the remnants of his presence—a bottle of whiskey lying open on the table, the glass next to it only halfway filled. She moved farther, into the dining room, where a food tray rested untouched, gone cold. A frown curled over her brows. He hadn’t been here long. Or maybe he’d gone back to his penthouse? Just as she was about to check his bedroom, the sound of a soft cough reached her ears. She turned ar
“Good morning, Grandpa.” Mia stood the moment Charles Cornell stepped onto the terrace. His face was bright, as though he’d been up for hours. He was simply dressed in straight pants and a button-down shirt, with his sleeves neatly folded to his elbows. “Oh, Mia, please, sit,” he said, motioning toward the chair beside him. “Come inside, or are you comfortable out here?” “This is fine,” she assured him. “Actually, this is my favorite spot.” Charles sat with a satisfied nod. “How long have you been waiting?” “Not too long,” Mia said lightly. The Chief of Staff, standing nearby, bowed slightly. “She has actually been here for over an hour, sir. She was standing by the gate.” Charles’s expression shifted instantly. “What?” His voice carried a quiet authority. “And they didn’t let her in?” “They were just doing their job,” Mia interjected quickly. “It was an innocent mistake.” Charles exhaled through his mouth. “Who was on duty?” He turned to the Chief of Staff. “How could they