"Leila, it’s time."Alexander’s voice was steady, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the woman in the reflection—the one who had fought through storms burned bridges and rebuilt an empire from its ruins.The woman who had once been just a daughter, just a sister.Now, I was so much more.But as I prepared to return home, I wondered if they would still see me the same way.The Weight of TimeThe drive back to my family’s house was silent. Alexander's hand rested on my knee, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against my skin. A small comfort, but my pulse still raced."It’s just your family, Leila," he murmured, eyes flicking to mine briefly. "Not a boardroom. Not a press conference. You’ve faced worse."I exhaled sharply. "Exactly. That’s the problem. I don’t know how to be just their daughter anymore."His grip tightened. "Then don’t be. Be who you are now. If they love you, they’ll see that’s enough."My throat tightened. But what if it wasn’t
"What if we don’t make it?"The words tumbled out before I could stop them, raw and unfiltered. They hung between us, weighty and dangerous, a confession I hadn't meant to say out loud.Alexander’s grip on my waist tightened. “We will.”His voice carried the same unshakable confidence he always had, but something about it felt different. Maybe because we had both been through too much to believe in guarantees anymore.I wanted to trust him, to trust us, but doubt coiled in my chest. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him—I did. Fiercely. Desperately. But love had never been our problem. It was everything else. The ghosts of the past, the scars of betrayal, the war we had just barely crawled out of.I searched his face. “And what if we don’t?”His jaw clenched. “Then I’ll fight for us. Even if you stop believing, even if you push me away, I’ll keep fighting.”The certainty in his words made my throat tighten. How did he always know exactly what to say to pull me back from the edge?I took a
This isn’t just a business move. It’s a statement."The weight of the moment pressed against my chest as I sat at the long glass conference table, my fingers locked together, pulse steady but charged. The past months had been brutal—corporate warfare, betrayals, and the fight to keep Steele Industries from crumbling. We had clawed our way back, piece by piece, battle by battle.But now, it was time to show the world exactly who we were.Alexander stood beside me, a controlled force of nature, his tailored suit sharp as ever. He wasn’t just here as Steele Industries’ CEO. He was here as my partner. As the man who had risked everything—his company, his reputation, and in some ways, even himself—to rebuild from the ashes.I met his gaze, a silent exchange of understanding, of unspoken words.We had one final hurdle left.The board.I turned to face them, levelling my voice. “This initiative isn’t up for discussion. It’s happening.”A few sceptical glances. A shifting of weight in chairs.
Every move has a consequence. And now, it’s their turn to pay."The courtroom felt suffocating. Too many bodies pressed into the gallery, too many murmurs floating beneath the surface. Cameras flashed, pens scratched against the paper, the press ready to devour whatever blood spilt first.But all I could focus on was the two people sitting at the defendant's table.Damien. Cassandra.The architects of so much destruction. The reason I’d spent months waking up drenched in sweat, wondering if my world was about to collapse.They looked different now—Damien’s tailored arrogance slipping at the edges, Cassandra’s composed elegance starting to crack. But even now, sitting in the face of their ruin, they held themselves like people who still believed they could win.That was the thing about people like them. They never believed in endings until they were standing at the edge of one.Alexander sat beside me, his body rigid, his fingers laced together like he was holding himself together thro
"You remind me of myself." The words slipped out before I could stop them. The second they did, I saw the flicker of recognition in Ava’s eyes. She stiffened in her chair, fingers tightening around the pen she’d been holding like a lifeline. “Really?” she asked hesitantly, as if the thought had never crossed her mind. As if she couldn’t possibly imagine herself standing in my shoes someday. I gave a small smile. “Yes.” Her lips parted slightly, as if she was trying to find the right words, but nothing came out. I understood that silence. I had lived in that silence. That silence was doubt. It was fear. It was that cruel voice whispering that no matter how hard you fought, no matter how much you proved yourself, the world would still find a way to tell you, You don’t belong here. I leaned forward, resting my arms on the desk between us. “I see it in you. That hunger. That fight. The way you don’t want to just succeed—you need to.” She inhaled sharply, as if the words hit her
A Line We Hadn’t Crossed Before"You always say you don’t need grand gestures."Alexander’s voice was steady, but something simmered beneath the surface—something cautious, almost hesitant. Alexander Steele didn’t hesitate. Not in business, not in battle, not in anything. And yet, as he stood in the doorway of my office, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for my reaction, I knew this was different.I looked up from my laptop, arching a brow. “That’s because I don’t.”He smirked. “And yet, I think you’ll like this one.”I let out a slow breath, shutting my laptop. “Should I be worried?”He stepped forward, leaning on the edge of my desk, invading my space just enough to make my pulse tick up. “Only if you don’t like surprises.”Damn him.Alexander didn’t do surprises. Which meant this was planned. Which meant this mattered.I folded my arms. “You don’t do unnecessary things.”“Correct.”I studied him, but he gave nothing away. His expression was calm, unreadable, except for the sligh
The weight of the past sits between us like a silent observer.The city hums beneath us, a sea of lights stretching beyond the penthouse windows. It’s strange—how this view, once a reminder of power and untouchability, now feels like a mirror reflecting every battle we fought to get here.Alexander stands beside me, his hand resting on the railing, fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to reach for me. His eyes aren’t on the skyline. They’re on me.“You’re too quiet,” he says, his voice smooth but laced with something heavier.I exhale, my grip tightening around my glass. “I’m thinking.”“About what?”I turn to face him. “Everything. Us. The chaos. The fact that we shouldn’t have made it.”A shadow passes over his face before he straightens, rolling his shoulders. “But we did.”I study him, the man who once kept the world at arm’s length, the man who once saw love as a liability. “Barely,” I murmur.His jaw tightens. “Leila—”“You almost lost me, Alexander,” I cut in, my voice so
The city stretched below us, a tapestry of glittering lights weaving through the skyline. From this height, everything seemed smaller, manageable. A lie, maybe. But tonight, for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe in something bigger than the wars we’d fought.Alexander stood beside me on the balcony, his presence steady, grounding. He wasn’t touching me, but I felt him in the way the air shifted when he moved, in the quiet inhale he took before speaking.“Do you ever think about how different things could have been?” My voice barely broke the silence, yet I knew he heard me.Alexander exhaled slowly, fingers flexing against the iron railing. “I used to.”“And now?”His gaze slid to mine, sharp, assessing. “Now, I don’t waste time on what-ifs.”I smiled, slow and knowing. “That’s very you.”He smirked, reaching for his drink. “And you?”I hesitated, my fingers playing with the condensation on my glass. “I used to think about what I lost. Now, I think about what we buil
You’d think after everything we’ve been through, we’d know how to keep our promises.I stood in the middle of our kitchen, barefoot, wrapped in one of Alexander’s oversized shirts. The silence in the penthouse was loud—only broken by the hum of the refrigerator and the dull buzz of my phone on the counter. Again.Work messages. At nearly midnight.The trip had ended three days ago. Three perfect, disconnected, sun-drenched days where we remembered what we were without the world pulling us in opposite directions. But the second we landed, the floodgates opened.He’d already broken our no-work-after-seven rule twice. I’d ignored it the first time. Justified the second. But now?Now I was pissed.I didn’t hear him walk in until his voice cut through the quiet like a wire snapping.“You’re still up?”I turned, crossing my arms. “That’s your opening line?”Alexander stilled, already sensing the storm brewing in me. He looked tired—no, wrecked—but I didn’t let it soften me this time.“I had
"Just when we thought we had it all figured out, life threw us a curveball wrapped in dollar signs."The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our penthouse, casting a deceptive calm over the chaos brewing beneath. Alexander sat at the dining table, a thick dossier open before him, his brow furrowed in concentration. The sight was both familiar and unsettling."Leila," he began, his voice measured but tinged with an undercurrent I couldn't quite place. "We need to discuss this proposal."I set down my coffee, the rich aroma suddenly nauseating. "Another one? Didn't we agree to take a step back after the last project nearly consumed us?"He sighed, rubbing his temples. "I know. But this... this is different. It's a partnership offer from Global Innovations. The potential here is massive."I approached, glancing over his shoulder at the documents. The figures were staggering, the kind that could solidify our company's position at the pinnacle of the industry. But
"Love isn't tested in the calm; it's forged in the storm."I stood at the edge of our penthouse balcony, the city lights stretching out like a sea of stars beneath me. The cool breeze did little to calm the storm brewing inside.Alexander's voice broke through my thoughts. "Leila, what's going on?"I turned to see him leaning against the doorway, concern etched on his face. His presence, usually so grounding, now felt like a lifeline."It's Daniel," I began, my voice barely steady. "He's back, and with him, all the memories I've tried to forget."Alexander's eyes narrowed. "What does he want?""He says he's in trouble," I replied, wrapping my arms around myself. "But his return has stirred up doubts about who I was... and who I am now."Alexander crossed the space between us, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Your past doesn't define you, Leila. We all have shadows. It's how we move forward that matters."Tears welled up, blurring my vision. "But what if those shadows catch up? What
"Just when you think you've buried your past, it has a way of knocking on your front door."The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our penthouse, casting a golden glow over the minimalist decor. I stood at the kitchen island, nursing a cup of coffee, its rich aroma filling the air. Alexander sat across from me, engrossed in the financial section of the newspaper, his brow furrowed in concentration."Anything interesting?" I asked, breaking the comfortable silence.He looked up, a small smile playing on his lips. "Just the usual market fluctuations. Nothing that can't wait."I nodded, taking another sip of my coffee. The tranquility of the moment was shattered by the sharp chime of the doorbell. Alexander and I exchanged puzzled glances; we weren't expecting anyone."I'll get it," I offered, setting my mug down and moving toward the door.As I opened it, my breath caught in my throat. Standing before me was a ghost from my past—Daniel. His once-boyish face was
“Success had always been my compass, but lately, it felt like I was navigating without a map.”I stared at the half-empty espresso cup on the kitchen island. The crema had gone flat, the kind of detail I usually wouldn’t notice. But now it felt like the perfect metaphor for everything that had gone dull lately—even the parts of life that were supposed to taste rich.Leila padded in barefoot, wearing my faded CalTech hoodie and holding a mug of tea. Her hair was a mess, and her cheeks were still pink from sleep, but damn if she didn’t still stop me cold.“You didn’t sleep again,” she said.I gave a non-answer shrug and kept my eyes on the city outside the window.She set her mug down and leaned on the counter, not pressing yet. Just... waiting. That was something she’d learned recently. How to wait for me to come to her instead of dragging it out of me.“I’ve been thinking,” I finally said.“Uh-oh,” she said, smiling a little. “That’s your ‘change the company overnight’ voice.”“No. No
“Grief doesn’t ask permission. It just shows up, wrecks everything, and dares you to clean it up.”It started with silence.Not the peaceful kind. Not the kind where two people sit next to each other and don’t need to fill the space. This was the heavy kind. The kind that sat between us at the dinner table while Alexander pushed food around his plate and pretended to be somewhere else.He hadn’t touched the roasted chicken. I made it from scratch. It used to be his favorite.“You haven’t eaten all day,” I said, not looking up from my own plate. I’d barely taken a bite myself.“I’m not hungry.”"You said that yesterday."He finally looked up. His eyes were dull, rimmed red from nights I knew he wasn’t sleeping through.“Leila,” he said flatly. “Please. Not tonight.”I set my fork down. “It’s been nine nights.”He exhaled sharply and shoved his chair back. “I can't do this right now.”And just like that, he was gone—down the hall, the door to his study clicking shut behind him.At first
"Alex, it's your dad."I heard the change in his voice before I heard the words. He'd just picked up a call—early, too early for it to be anything good. His body stiffened. His shoulders pulled back like someone punched him from behind.I was halfway down the stairs in a T-shirt and one sock when I saw his face.“What’s wrong?” I asked, breath catching.He lowered the phone slowly like it weighed fifty pounds. “It’s my father,” he said. “He’s had a heart attack.”---We didn’t talk much on the drive to the hospital. He gripped the steering wheel like he needed it to keep breathing. I sat there, silent, staring out the window, trying to do something—anything—but think about what it would mean if this went badly.He didn’t need me to talk. Not yet.He just needed me there.---When we got to the hospital, we found Emily pacing outside the ICU. Her face was blotchy. Her hands shook.“They rushed him into surgery two hours ago,” she said, and when Alex hugged her, her voice cracked. “They
"We need to get away."Alexander's voice cut through the ambient hum of our penthouse, his tone resolute.I glanced up from my laptop, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Away? Now?""Yes, now." He crossed the room, his movements deliberate, and gently closed my laptop. "We've been running on fumes for months, Leila. It's time to hit pause."I leaned back, studying his face—the tension etched in the lines around his eyes, the tight set of his jaw. "And you think a getaway will fix everything?""Not everything," he admitted, perching on the edge of the coffee table opposite me. "But it's a start."I sighed, the weight of unending responsibilities pressing down. "Where would we even go?"A slow smile curved his lips. "Leave that to me."---Two days later, we were airborne on his private jet, destination undisclosed. Alexander reveled in the mystery, his eyerevelledling with unspoken secrets."You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I teased, nudging his shoulder.He chuckled, a rich sound
"You can't be serious, Leila."Alexander's voice echoed through our expansive living room, his tone a mix of disbelief and frustration.I stood my ground, meeting his intense gaze. "I am serious. This is my project, and I need to do this on my own."He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I knew all too well. "Why now? Why this?""Because I need to prove to myself that I can," I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.Alexander sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I just don't want to see you get hurt.""I know," I said softly. "But I have to take this risk."---The opportunity had come unexpectedly—a chance to lead a project without Alexander's influence overshadowing me. It was a small tech startup looking for investors, and I saw potential where others saw risk."You're sure about this?" Jessica, my closest confidante and our company's CFO, asked as we reviewed the proposal.I nodded. "Absolutely. This could be the breakthrough I've been waiting for."She raise