He walked to the entrance hall to wait for the delivery. Meanwhile, Blair felt distrust creep into her skin. Working with Spencer meant a lot of things, including not trusting situations.The counter between the living room and kitchen allowed the woman to watch carefully as her friend opened the apartment door and received the flowers. It was a white arrangement of lilies."They're beautiful" Drake walked back to the kitchen, admiring the beauty and soft scent of the flowers.Despite not wanting to show any sign of weakness, the choice of flowers, whether intentional or not, was an emotional trigger for Blair. Lilies were the flowers she placed on her mother's tombstone every year."There's a card" Drake placed the arrangement on the table, close to her friend so she could pick it up.They were both surprised. It was not common to receive gifts on special days, even less on ordinary days. Blair removed the small card from among the flowers and read its contents.Everything that was s
Drake took a step closer to Blair. He wrapped an arm around her slim waist significantly, to show a clear sign of dominance. She was a few inches shorter, which gave them the ideal height to make a cute couple."Maybe a little more than that" using his charm, Drake replied. His hair was neatly combed back, taking the good boy out of the picture and giving way to the attractive model."They make a beautiful pair" Lana would like to say something more, but decided she wouldn't need to. Her smile of satisfaction and victory said a lot about why she had asked that question."We need to go, Lana. But it's always good to see you. See you later" Blair then said goodbye.They walked away, carrying with them the notion that this kind of thing was just an act. There were no feelings for anything other than friendship. But somewhere in the room, Ethan Banks didn't know about it. He watched Drake touch Blair like he owned her every night, and what he felt wasn't pleasant. He didn't know it was a
On the other side, in the hall, the noise was considerably loud. However, all the woman could hear was the rapid beat of her heart."Because I'm not going to be on your waiting list" he smiled sideways, not because he thought it was funny. For irony. The idea that it could be a second option was comical for someone like him."Just like I'm into you? Because, if I remember correctly, you're always with another woman"She lifted her chin, bringing their faces together in a dangerous way. Ethan was dangerous just because he was powerful. He did what he wanted, always, without restrictions. His habit of caring little about other people made him a predator. On the other hand, the way he was attracted to Blair made her an even greater danger. She was the one who could trap the predator."I've never denied how much I want to fuck you" he maintained closeness, ensuring that she could always look into his eyes.Blair grabbed the collar of Ethan's black shirt and pulled it towards her. With the
Mariah, the model next to her, studied Blair for a second. She was a beautiful woman by any standards, but perhaps not by Ethan's. He preferred blondes, and Mariah knew that; This would be your trump card.What Ethan felt for Drake matched what Blair felt for Mariah. And seeing her in that seat, she remembered what Lana said. That would be just another indifferent sex."Always a pleasure" Blair repeated.The woman felt a dose of shame when she remembered the moment she surrendered, freely and openly, because she knew he had already won the prize, all he had to do was take it. She looked at Ethan, fighting the butterflies in her stomach, but was disappointed to see that his hand was resting on Mariah's leg when he sat back down, not in a malicious way, but in an intimate way."Well, now let's go back to our table. See you later, Mr. Banks" Jean smiled before walking away.Blair, on the other hand, turned and walked to the table nimbly. Dealing with the sight of Ethan touching another w
That's what he called me when I was four years old, and then we would go to the square for walks and eat ice cream. Afterwards, I think he preferred alcohol to strawberry ice cream."Jean, please. If you have the slightest consideration for me, leave me alone" I ask, once and for all.After ten years of wandering the world as a purged soul, what could a father change?"I... I..." he seems to have no reaction, he certainly didn't expect me to answer."I have a million things to say, Blair. But I can't, not now. You wouldn't believe it""Not even""I have a proposal. And please think about it. I want to be something in your life, anything. I live in Las Vegas, come too. I can employ you, and then...""What?" the bitterness in my tone is so burning that I hear my voice sound louder than I would like. Does Jean simply look into the past and see rainbows?"I don't know you, Blair. I spent years looking for my only daughter, when she should have been by my side. I came back to Philadelphia,
"Do you remember the first time we met?" his tone of voice remains weak, but this time, his eyes shine with a few droplets of tears."Yes. I remember"We were in the same Accounting class at the Business School. He looked at me with admiration, as if I were the most beautiful woman in the world. Trevor tried to get closer, but I was on alert, defensive. I tried to escape his advances for a year, but he didn't give up. With a lot of effort on his part, we started to leave. I don't know exactly at what point we started to have something serious, but I also tried to get away from it."You barely looked at me, but that was all I could see" this sentence, as simple as it may seem, hurts me. I meant a lot to him, more than I deserved."And then he denied all my requests to go out with me. I was upset, but he was too enchanted to realize that he didn't want me""I was scared" I confess.I caress his face with my fingertips. Maybe I can still be a good girlfriend after all."You were and cont
NOW-DAYSNew York Fashion Week was an event highly acclaimed by the media. Outside the hall, the gathering of reporters was equivalent to a manifesto. That would be the penultimate day of the event, with illustrious participation from elders of the fashion world and former models.Mariah Donovan was on the catwalk, walking in a million-dollar dress from the brand she modeled for. The blonde was at the height of her career, and had a lot of talent at what she did. She glided across the light floor with the elegance and naturalness that many would love to have, but only she had.Ethan was in the lounge that night. Despite being the fourth day of the event, it was only the second he had attended. He hadn't seen Blair Collins in three days, on purpose, because he was determined to forget that he had ever wanted the redhead. Assuming he preferred blondes, it didn't make sense to be attracted to her. And besides, he wouldn't accept being in second place. The man's ego was bruised, perhaps l
The truth behind the question was understood by Ethan. He was an intelligent man. Mariah wanted to understand the level of closeness between them, she wanted to know if Blair would be a possible rival. Deep down, she knew she would need to work hard to be comparable to the redhead.- "Blair Collins? What would she do here?" Will was intrigued.He knew Blair lived in Vegas, so it wouldn't make sense for them to be in New York at the same time. And besides, according to his calculations, Blair should be passed.- "She was here during the event, she's probably here today too" Mariah shrugged.- "Wait. Who is Collins?" Mack was completely unaware of the matter.- "A friend of Ethan's" Will replied, but he didn't know for sure either.- "Just a friend? There's something wrong with her. Isn't she your type?"Everyone there, including Mack, knew Ethan's history with women. He was always accompanied by visually perfect ladies. Will just smiled at the question, remembering what Blair Collins l
There’s a pause, and in the silence I feel the weight of everything he’s not saying. The desperation of searching for someone the whole world said was lost. The crushing hope, followed by the crumbling, each time he thought he’d found me only to discover it was someone else. The pain of living between belief and resignation, over and over again.His fingers, still hovering in the air, finally move. They touch my face, light and hesitant, as if he fears I might disappear at any moment. The touch is warm, but his fingers tremble, and it breaks something inside me.He's trying to be strong, but he can't hide the vulnerability that pulsates beneath the surface."It's you now," he says, and the certainty in his voice is almost palpable. As if, after so long, he can finally breathe.He smiles, but the smile isn’t what I remember. It’s not confident or charming. It’s small, fragile, and so full of sadness that it stings my eyes.There's something devastating about seeing him like this. That
My head moves slowly, against my will, as if an invisible thread were pulling me towards him. I don't want to look. I don't want to see. But fear and curiosity push me towards the inevitable realization that he is there, real, so close that even the air seems charged with his presence.My gaze first drops to the floor, to his shoes. A pair of casual sneakers, simple but they bring back memories that refuse to stay buried. Then my eyes move up to his legs. Black jeans, fitted, worn at the knees as if they’ve survived more than just time.My heart races, but I keep going. I glance down at his torso, noticing the dark sweater he’s wearing, elegant but in a casual way that only Ethan can pull off. He never had to try so hard to look… dangerous and attractive at the same time. He just was.It takes me longer than it should to look up at his face. As if my subconscious knew that this would be the point of no return. When I finally allow myself to look, I feel my heart almost stop.His beard
BLAIR'S POVI walk quickly through the parking lot of the building, rummaging through my bag for my car keys. The dim light from the overhead lights creates shadows that dance on the floor, but my attention is completely focused on finding the keychain.If the traffic is okay today (a miracle, considering the time of day) I can still make it to school in time to pick up Miguel and take him home. He hates it when I'm late, and he doesn't spare me the frustrated look, but maybe I can make up for it with a pizza for dinner. That usually works.Finally, my fingers touch the cold metal of the key, and a relieved sigh escapes my lips. I continue walking, my thoughts already moving on to what Miguel might choose as a topping for the pizza this time… pepperoni, perhaps?But as I turn the corner where my car is parked, something makes the world around me slow down.There’s my car, exactly where it should be. But next to it, taking up my parking space, is a black SUV that immediately catches my
"You were out of your mind that night." He looks at me now, his gaze a mixture of anger and pity. "And that's what happened. It was your car that hit her, Banks."The revelation hits me like a punch to the chest. “What?” I repeat, louder this time, my disbelief boiling over. “My car? Carter, my car?!” My voice rises, wavering between anger and desperation.“She would never feel safe with you again,” he says, his words cutting like knives. “After this, how could she?”My breathing quickens, and for a moment I feel like the world around me is falling apart. The air seems to escape my lungs, my mind in absolute chaos. Carter takes a step back, but I follow him, staring at him as if he’s the only thing still solid in my reality."What the fuck are you saying, Carter? My car…?" My voice breaks, begging for an answer I don't want to hear.I fall to my knees on the sidewalk, as if my legs can no longer support the weight of this revelation. My fingers tangle in my hair, pulling hard, as if t
When I finally stop, my body is panting, my hands shaking from the impact. I look at Carter, who is on the ground, his face swollen and blood dripping from his lips.He doesn't move.He doesn't say anything.He just stands there, staring at me with a look of sadness, of regret.“I… I knew it,” he says, his voice weak.I don’t answer, I have no words. The anger that consumed me before fades, and in its place comes a deep emptiness, as if the world has lost all meaning. I stand, looking at Carter on the floor. Each breath feels harder, heavier.What do I do now?I feel my body weaken. My legs shake, and the pain in my hand from punching so much spreads through my body. I try to breathe, but the pressure in my chest won't go away. And the only thought that runs through my mind is the emptiness of knowing that Blair is still alive, and I don't know what to do with that.I don't know what to do with the rest of my life.Carter struggles to his feet, running a hand over his jaw with a paine
I saw Blair. Or at least, I think I did. My mind no longer knows how to distinguish what is real from what is not. And while I stand there, lost in my own memories and hallucinations, Carter remains silent, his gaze fixed on me, unable to find words that could bring back what is already lost.He knows what's going on, but he doesn't know how to deal with it.He lowers his head, as if the very idea of saying the words is an unbearable weight. His voice is low, barely audible, but still, it seems to cut through the air between us, making everything around us disappear. "She's alive," he says, so quietly that for a moment I wonder if it's me, in my shattered sanity, who's imagining it all."What?" My voice is hoarse, a reflection of the disbelief that begins to take hold of me.He doesn't look at me, his eyes fixed on the floor, as if the words that just left his mouth were a condemnation. "You're not crazy, brother," he says with the same seriousness, but with a tone of regret. "Blair i
The valet hesitates, looking at the now-gone car, and shakes his head, clearly confused. "I... I'm not sure. No one important, sir."Nobody important?“No,” I breathe deeply, trying to control the rising panic. “No, I know what I saw. She was important.” The emptiness of the street around me seems to grow, to swallow me. I no longer know if I’m speaking to him or to myself."Ethan!" Carter is behind me now, his voice full of concern and something else. He reaches out to me, taking my arm. "What are you doing? What's going on?"I look at him, my face tense, anger and fear mixed together. "She was here. She was here," I hiss, unsure if he'll understand the depth of what I'm saying."Who?" Carter asks, his voice low, full of confusion and concern.He cups my face in his hands, as if trying to check if I'm feverish, if my mind is somewhere far away. His fingers press against my skin, but I barely feel them."Blair," I whisper, almost as if my voice is a distant memory, an attempt to captu
She finishes the glass in a single gulp, her gaze fixed on the horizon, as if she were losing herself in the lights of the city below. I follow her, drinking in her image, still immersed in my own thoughts."Good wines are not wasted," she murmurs with a seductive smile, her red lips almost provocative. The flirtation is clear, and for a moment, I find myself contemplating whether this is what I really want. But soon the answer comes silently: I am no longer the man who fell for this kind of game.When was the last time I was with a woman? The question resurfaces in my mind, and I know the answer. I know Blair was the last. There has never been another after her, despite the attempts, the distractions. No woman has been able to replace the space she left, not even for a moment. It grips me, swallows me, in a way I don't know how to escape."It's not wasted," I confirm, more to myself than to her. The sound of my own voice seems distant.The blonde steps forward, her plunging neckline
“I’m developing a new sparkling wine brand,” says Cortez, a big-time alcoholic entrepreneur, in a tone of voice so enthusiastic that I almost feel guilty for not showing the slightest interest. “You know, I’m not new to the business. I thought we could do a campaign together. Something big.”I feign interest, crossing my arms and smiling, even though my mind has already begun to wander away from the conversation. “What were you thinking about?” I ask, my tone calculated with curiosity, so as not to seem disinterested.“Something you could incorporate into racing, you know?” Cortez continues, his voice growing even more animated. “Like, throwing champagne in the air when you win a race. That classic gesture, but with our own brand.” He smiles, pleased with the idea, as if he’s offering me a golden opportunity.I watch him intently for a few seconds, but soon I start to let his words fade into the background of my mind. He keeps babbling, but his words are like distant noises now. I'm n