- "You look very beautiful. And, if I may say so, you outshone all the models" Michele commented. The way she was by Jean's side didn't go unnoticed. He seemed to be in an extra-professional relationship.- "Thanks"- "I called you to thank you for the good work you've done at my agency. And here, of course"For a brief moment, Blair felt guilty. That work was not being done by Michele, but by Spencer's investigation. It was just a good facade. On the other hand, the redhead knew that Michele wanted to score points with Jean. Therefore, both had personal interests in the relationship.- "No need to thank me. It's a pleasure working with you"- "I didn't know your father until this edition of Fashion Week, but now we're having a frank conversation. And, my god, why didn't you tell me he's so amazing?" her boss commented, with the biggest smile on her preserved face.Blair felt her stomach drop. The biggest traumas of her childhood were caused by the man Michele had called incredible, a
The mirror on the marble sink extended the entire length of the wall. Blair walked to the sink and looked closely at her colorless face. The negative effect of Michele's vision of her father still hung over her, reminding her that many people loved Jean, even though they only knew the new version of him.Blair felt a shiver awaken her skin. Through the reflection in the glass, she saw Ethan Banks appear in the doorway. With his all-black look, from his shiny shoes to his bow tie, the man standing in the doorway seemed to fill the entire room with his presence alone. He was tall enough to almost reach the end of the doorway.Blair's body's reaction was not natural, it seemed to involve something beyond the physical. She remained static as she tried to assimilate what she saw, enchanted by the perfect fallen angel. Blair didn't know it, but the effect her figure had on the man's system was equal, if not more devastating. The difference was that Banks was able to hide her reactions.- "I
- "Can I?" he whispered close to her lips.Blair sighed and agreed with an almost imperceptible nod, aware that her body could barely handle the deluge of desire she felt.Banks circled her mouth with his tongue, tasting a flavor he would only find in her. The kiss happened when he realized he couldn't resist, not being so close. The man absorbed Blair's brief moan into his mouth, numbed by the sound.And when her lips began to trace Ethan's, and she held his hair between her fingers, the man's bones failed. Her breath hit his face in hot puffs. He felt her sweetness in small doses. At that moment, the excitement was painful.Slowly and intensely, tongues slid and explored each other. The flavors they found on each other's lips were something that instantly addicted them. Because, despite knowing that kiss would be explosive, Blair and Ethan didn't believe that a fit could be so perfect. The sensations stored in a kiss that would not be enough to appease his intimate desires were brou
- "Yes, sir. But she is stunned, very worried" despite Alex trying hard to appear casual, Blair understood what he meant. Mariah wanted to see Ethan. Most likely he was demanding to be seen.- "Let's go to the hall"- "I don't recommend it, sir" although he knew that his boss would do whatever he wanted, regardless of the recommendation, the security guard made his attempt.Ethan didn't need to repeat himself for his employee to comply. Alex politely stepped away from the door to let his boss pass. Blair knew this wasn't an invitation to spend the night with Ethan, so she walked out of the suite as well.At that point, the man was intact in his own world. The things he had said, done and felt were part of the past, and that was all. They entered the elevator and remained keeping their distance.- "The man has been contained, but we will continue with protocol" Alex announced.The security guard placed his hand on his waist, on a holster that housed his revolver. When Ethan's safety co
Only then did Ethan realize that Mariah would accompany him into the night. Because, after the moment with Blair, it would be difficult for him to notice the presence of any woman. It shone in his mind. There was no fair comparison.They headed outside, too. Outside the luxurious Baccarat, some cars lined up were waiting for guests, who were gradually leaving the event. Some reporters crowded around, in a failed attempt to get a photo or a statement from the model, or from the businessman at her side. Meanwhile, the New York police formed a human chain of protection to prevent reporters from inflicting on the guests' privacy. The only photographers who could have photos or statements of what happened were those who were already inside the hotel, before the attack.Ethan was next to Mariah when his security guard opened the limo door for them to enter, however, it wasn't her that the man was thinking about. Every cell in his body asked for the company that another man had. He barely re
Fashion Week had come to an end. Blair was in Las Vegas again the following week. And to say that many of her thoughts were still in New York would be an understatement.After a few phone calls, a few reports, and brief conversations, Spencer invited Blair to the department. There were details that would need to be discussed in person."And so he bought the company stock?" the inspector asked, leaning forward on his cluttered desk."Yes. The justification is that he wasn't ready to walk away completely and suddenly," the redhead reported.Blair stood across from Spencer in his cluttered office. She wore regular clothes; dark jeans, a hoodie, and practical sneakers; as much as possible to go unnoticed. At this point, being discovered would be like setting fire to the investigation."Some of the story is untrue," Blair mused."Why?" the inspector showed interest.- "He claims he wasn't ready to leave the track. However, when he took over the family business, he said it was time to take
"Yes," Blair replied, crossing her arms in front of her breasts to appear less helpless."If you were truly in love with Ethan, would you be able to give him away?"That question struck the woman. She didn't expect it to become an issue. Blair sighed slowly, and continued looking at Colton as she replied:"What matters is my work, not my love life""If your passion is an investigator, yes, it matters" he countered."I'll do whatever it takes. You should do the same""Let's start with the equipment. I'll get you headphones and gloves" Colton ignored the anger he felt upon hearing those words. He had to ignore it. And then the man walked away from Blair, leaving her alone for a few minutes.*The most luxurious cities in the United States were known for keeping busy lives and large amounts of money moving. It was no different in Las Vegas. The casinos, even on Monday mornings, were open to voracious customers. There was no time to be wasted in Vegas.Michele's agency was located in one
"Yes, your desire to grow. That's what you want, right?""In part, yes. I'm looking for financial independence, and I think this is the path, or something similar"The redhead's words weren't a complete lie. She wanted financial independence, however, this was not the reason she worked with Michele."I'll be very honest, Blair. I don't see relationships, I see business. Do you know what people say about women like me? They say we are self-serving, that we have no value and that we don't deserve respect""I think you've gotten over those rumors." Blair leaned towards her boss, somewhat intrigued by the conversation."I had to overcome it to move forward. The point is, people say bad things about ambitious women. But they shut up when those women reach the top.""Ordinary people are afraid of powerful people" Blair commented, and the little phrase captivated Michele. Coming from a young, seemingly inexperienced woman, those words seemed wise."I am a powerful woman and in front of me is
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