“I’m not the man you think I am, Leila.”Alexander’s voice, low and uncharacteristically hesitant, broke the silence between us. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the dimly lit living room. Outside, the city buzzed with life, but here, within these walls, it was just the two of us.I set my wine glass on the coffee table and turned to him, studying the tension in his posture. He sat at the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together. It wasn’t often that Alexander Hawke showed cracks in his armor, and when he did, it was like watching a mountain tremble.“Then tell me,” I said softly. “Who are you?”He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “That’s the thing. I’m not sure I know anymore.”“Start with what you do know,” I said, my voice steady. “I want to understand you, Alexander. All of you.”He turned to me, his dark eyes searching mine for something—reassurance, maybe, or permission to bare a part of himself h
“You’re going to want to sit down for this.”The words from Grayson, Alexander’s trusted advisor, hung heavy in the room, laced with a tension that coiled around my chest like a snake. I glanced at Alexander, who was already seated at his desk, his posture rigid, his dark eyes narrowed at the folder Grayson had just placed in front of him.I lingered near the door, unsure if I should stay. But one glance from Alexander—the kind that told me this was as much my fight as it was his—kept me rooted in place.“What’s this about?” Alexander asked, his voice low but laced with authority.Grayson hesitated, his usually unshakable demeanor faltering for just a moment. “It’s about the Westbridge acquisition from seven years ago.”Alexander leaned forward, his brows furrowing. “What about it?”Grayson exhaled, his jaw tightening. “There’s a clause in the contract we overlooked. Or rather... someone deliberately buried it.”Alexander opened the folder, his eyes scanning the document with the prec
“You’re staring at that thing like it’s going to catch fire.” I looked up from the mountain of contracts and legal jargon spread across the dining table, Alexander’s voice cutting through the suffocating silence of the penthouse. He stood in the doorway, his tie loosened, the faintest shadow of exhaustion under his eyes. “Maybe it will,” I said, my tone flat as I gestured toward the papers. “At least then we’d have an excuse to stop reading it.” He smirked faintly, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. Crossing the room, he poured himself a glass of water before sitting across from me. “We’re running out of time, Leila,” he said, his voice low. “I know,” I murmured, my fingers tracing the edge of one particularly dense document. “But I’m not giving up. There has to be something we’re missing.” Alexander leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on me. “You’ve been at this for hours. You need to rest.” “And let Gareth win?” I shot back, my frustration bubbling to the surfac
"How long were you planning on lying to me, Alexander?"The words flew out of my mouth before I even realized they were forming. I stood in the middle of his office, my heart pounding so hard I could barely hear anything else. The pristine space, all polished wood and towering glass windows, suddenly felt claustrophobic.Alexander, seated behind his sleek black desk, slowly raised his head. His stormy gray eyes locked on mine, unreadable yet piercing. "What are you talking about, Leila?" His voice was calm—too calm.I tossed the photograph onto the desk. The glossy paper spun before landing face up, the image taunting us both. Him, standing too close to a woman I didn’t recognize. Their heads bent together as if they shared something secret, something intimate.He leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. "Where did you get this?""Does it matter?!" My voice cracked, a mixture of anger and something more fragile—betrayal. "She looks at you like you’re her world, and you’re standin
“I can’t believe you’re putting me in this position, Alexander.” My voice wavered as I paced his penthouse living room, the city lights stretching endlessly below us. “You’re asking me to negotiate with someone who probably hates me on sight.”Alexander leaned against the bar, his sleeves rolled up, exposing the forearms that somehow made me weak and furious all at once. “I’m not asking, Leila. I’m telling you that if anyone can turn this situation around, it’s you.”I stopped pacing and faced him, crossing my arms over my chest. “You can’t just throw me into the deep end because you think I’m good at treading water.”His lips twitched, the hint of a smirk threatening to undo the fragile grip I had on my temper. “You’re not just good, you’re exceptional. And this investor needs to see that.”“Exceptional at what, exactly? Pretending I have any clue how your world works?”Alexander straightened, his smirk fading. He stepped closer, his presence like gravity, pulling me in despite my be
“Alexander,” I said, gripping the phone tightly, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s my dad. He’s… he’s in the hospital.”I heard his sharp intake of breath, followed by a heavy pause. “What happened?”“I don’t know.” My voice cracked as I paced the length of our living room. “Mom called me a few minutes ago. She said he collapsed at home. They’re running tests now.”“I’m coming with you,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.I stopped pacing, closing my eyes against the wave of emotion threatening to swallow me. “You don’t have to. I know you’re in the middle of—”“Screw that,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “You’re my wife, Leila. I’m not letting you go through this alone.”The word “wife” hit me like a punch to the chest, a reminder of the fragile state of our marriage. But in that moment, I couldn’t dwell on it. There wasn’t room for anything but the fear coursing through me.“Okay,” I whispered. “Okay.”The drive to the hospital was a blur. Alexander’s hand rested
The moment I saw the envelope on the kitchen counter, my stomach twisted. Plain, cream-colored, unmarked except for my name scrawled across the front in black ink. It looked harmless enough, but there was something off about it. Something that made my skin crawl.I held it up as Alexander walked into the room, his tie loose around his neck, his sleeves rolled up in that casual yet devastatingly sexy way that had no business distracting me right now.“This was on the counter when I came downstairs,” I said, my voice tight. “Did you leave it here?”He frowned, crossing the room to take it from my hands. His fingers brushed mine, sending a jolt through me even in the midst of my unease.“No,” he said, his expression hardening as he examined the envelope. “Where did you find it?”“Right there.” I pointed to the counter. “It wasn’t here last night.”He flipped it over, inspecting the back before opening it carefully. His movements were calm, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, th
“I know you’re hiding something, Alexander,” I said, my voice steady despite the chaos swirling in my chest. The envelope sat between us on the coffee table, an unwelcome presence that neither of us wanted to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore.He didn’t look up from where he stood by the window, his posture rigid as he stared out at the glittering city lights. “Leila, I’ve told you everything I know.”“Have you?” I crossed my arms, taking a step closer. “Because it doesn’t feel that way. Every time we get one step closer to understanding what’s going on, another piece of your past comes back to haunt us.”He turned then, his expression hard but his eyes giving him away. There was something there—something raw and vulnerable. “I can’t change the past,” he said quietly. “But I’m trying to protect you from it.”I shook my head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I don’t need your protection, Alexander. I need your honesty. Because whatever this is, it’s already affecting both of us, and
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