"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
The office pulsed with energy, the quiet hum of conversation mixing with the rhythmic clatter of keyboards and the distant murmur of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. The scent of fresh espresso curled through the air, mingling with the clean, sharp notes of polished wood and leather.I stood at the vast mahogany conference table, the smooth grain cool beneath my fingertips as I flipped through the thick stack of reports. The numbers blurred for a second before sharpening into focus, each figure a testament to the battle we had fought—and won.Across the room, Alexander stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the skyline. Sunlight sliced through the glass, illuminating the tension in his shoulders, the quiet calculation in his gaze. He was still, but I knew his mind was a battlefield of strategy, weighing each possibility, dissecting every potential risk.But I couldn’t shake the doubt gnawing at me.Even after everything we had conquered, there was a quiet voice
I barely had a chance to settle into my chair before I felt it—Alexander’s stare burning into me like a brand.He wasn’t saying anything. Not yet. But the weight of his silence was louder than any argument we’d ever had.I exhaled slowly, knowing exactly what was coming. “You’re going to stand there glaring all day, or are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”Alexander crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. “You signed the deal.”It wasn’t a question.I didn’t flinch. “Yes, I did.”He pushed off the doorframe, stepping inside with calculated precision. “And you didn’t think to consult me first?”I set my pen down, meeting his gaze head-on. “No, Alexander. I didn’t.”His jaw ticked, and for a moment, I could see the internal battle raging inside him—control vs. trust.“So that’s where we are now?” he murmured, voice low, controlled. Too controlled. “You make executive decisions without me?”I let out a humorless chuckle. “I didn’t realize I needed permission.”His expression dar
The weight of the boardroom settled around me, pressing into my chest like an unspoken challenge. It was no longer about proving myself—I had already done that—but something more insidious still lingered in the air.Doubt.Not theirs.Mine.Even after every battle I had won, every deal I had closed, every risk I had taken, a small voice still whispered in the back of my mind.What if they’re right? What if this is still his world, and you’re just living in it?I straightened, pushing the thought aside. Not today. Not now.Today, I was taking the lead.I clicked the presentation forward, the crisp slide illuminating behind me. "This isn't just an expansion," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "It's a calculated shift that puts Steele Industries at the forefront of the global market. We’re not just stepping into this space—we’re claiming it.”A murmur rippled through the room.I could feel their eyes on me, weighing, measuring."You're suggesting we pivot during a time of mar
The camera lights flashed in rapid succession, each burst illuminating the stage where Alexander and I stood. The air in the grand hall buzzed with expectation, the hum of whispered speculation rippling through the crowd like a current of electricity. The media, investors, and industry leaders filled every seat, their gazes fixed on us, waiting for the moment we would either silence them or give them more fuel to doubt us.I inhaled deeply, straightening my shoulders. This was it. The moment where we either proved that Steele Industries was stronger than ever—or let the past haunt us forever.Alexander stepped forward first, his presence alone commanding silence. Dressed in a tailored dark suit that molded to his frame like armor, he looked every bit the ruthless businessman who had built an empire from the ashes of his father’s legacy. But I knew the man beneath that exterior. Knew the fire in his veins, the weight he carried on his shoulders, and the part of him that, despite everyt
The office pulsed with energy, the quiet hum of conversation mixing with the rhythmic clatter of keyboards and the distant murmur of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. The scent of fresh espresso curled through the air, mingling with the clean, sharp notes of polished wood and leather.I stood at the vast mahogany conference table, the smooth grain cool beneath my fingertips as I flipped through the thick stack of reports. The numbers blurred for a second before sharpening into focus, each figure a testament to the battle we had fought—and won.Across the room, Alexander stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the skyline. Sunlight sliced through the glass, illuminating the tension in his shoulders, the quiet calculation in his gaze. He was still, but I knew his mind was a battlefield of strategy, weighing each possibility, dissecting every potential risk.But I couldn’t shake the doubt gnawing at me.Even after everything we had conquered, there was a quiet voice
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
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
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
"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
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