I stood in Alexander’s office, the morning sun casting long shadows across the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city buzzed below, oblivious to the storm brewing in this very room. Alexander sat at his desk, his expression darker than I’d ever seen it. A piece of paper lay in front of him—a resignation letter from David Lang, one of his most trusted executives.“I don’t understand,” I said, breaking the silence. “David’s been with you since the beginning. Why would he leave now?”Alexander’s jaw tightened as he leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped together. “Because someone got to him,” he said, his voice low but sharp. “This isn’t a coincidence, Leila. David wouldn’t just walk away unless he was pushed.”I frowned, my chest tightening. “Pushed how? Do you think it’s Cassandra?”“It has to be,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “She’s been looking for cracks to exploit, and David… he was loyal, but he wasn’t invincible. She must’ve offered him something I couldn’t.”I stepped closer, p
The rooftop terrace glimmered in the soft glow of string lights. The sky was a rich navy, dotted with stars that felt impossibly close, as though they had gathered to witness this moment. Alexander had spared no detail, from the elegant table set for two to the faint strains of a live cello quartet in the background. It was romantic, perfect even, and for the first time in weeks, it felt like we were finally coming up for air.“You’ve been quiet,” Alexander said, his voice low and smooth as he poured another glass of wine for me. His gray eyes, always sharp and calculating, were soft tonight, vulnerable even.I smiled, swirling the wine in my glass. “I’m just enjoying this. It’s been a while since we’ve had a night like this.”His gaze lingered on me, a flicker of guilt passing over his face. “I know. I’ve been… distracted.”“Distracted is an understatement,” I teased, though the sting of truth in my words was undeniable.He reached across the table, his hand covering mine. “Leila, I
The hum of cameras and murmurs of journalists waiting behind the velvet ropes buzzed in my ears as I smoothed the front of my blazer for the tenth time. The press conference hadn’t even started, but it felt like we were already under the microscope. Every glance, every whisper felt like a judgment, and I wasn’t sure if I was more nervous about the questions or the fact that this was my first time facing them as Alexander Steele’s wife—not just his silent partner.“You don’t have to do this,” Alexander said beside me, his voice low and calm. The words didn’t match the tension in his jaw or the way he adjusted his cufflinks for the third time in a row.“Yes, I do,” I replied, meeting his gaze. “We said we’d face this together, remember?”His eyes softened, the steel in them melting just slightly. “They’re going to come after you too, Leila. Not just me. The questions, the accusations—it won’t be easy.”I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “Nothing about being with you has ever been e
“You think this will scare me?” Alexander’s voice was low, lethal, as he threw the damning folder onto the polished mahogany table. The man across from him, Damien Hale, leaned back in his chair, the faintest smirk playing on his lips.“I don’t need to scare you, Alexander,” Damien said, his tone maddeningly calm. “You’re doing a fine job unraveling all on your own.”I stood by the doorway, my presence unnoticed—or ignored—by both men. The room felt heavy, oppressive, as if every shadow harbored secrets waiting to explode. My heart pounded in my chest, but I stayed silent. This was Alexander’s fight, and I wouldn’t intervene unless he needed me.Alexander leaned forward, his fists braced against the table. “What do you want, Damien? To destroy everything I’ve built? To tear down Steele Industries just because you think you should’ve had my position?”Damien’s smile widened, infuriatingly unbothered. “Oh, Alexander. It’s not about the company. It’s about you. You’ve spent your life act
“You’ve been turning heads,” Claire said, leaning against the doorway of my office with a sly smile. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, landing on the stack of documents I’d spent the better part of the morning reviewing.I glanced up from my laptop, my fingers pausing over the keyboard. “Is that a compliment or a warning?”“Both.” She stepped inside, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. “You’re making waves, Leila. People are talking.”“Good things, I hope,” I said, though I didn’t miss the weight in her tone.Claire smirked, tilting her head. “Depends on who you ask. Some admire the way you’ve stepped into Alexander’s world like you’ve always belonged there. Others… well, let’s just say not everyone’s thrilled about the spotlight you’re sharing with him.”I leaned back in my chair, my heart sinking a little. “Who’s unhappy?”“Take your pick,” she said, shrugging. “Some of the board members think you’re overstepping. A few executives are worried about their positions now that
“You need to see this,” Claire said, her voice urgent as she stepped into Alexander’s office, holding a slim file folder. The tension in her tone was enough to make my stomach twist. She rarely interrupted us unless it was serious.Alexander looked up from his desk, his sharp gray eyes narrowing. “What is it?”Claire set the folder down, her fingers trembling just slightly. “It’s from the internal audit you requested after the leak last week.”I leaned forward, my pulse quickening as Alexander flipped open the folder. The room felt impossibly quiet as his gaze scanned the documents, his jaw tightening with every page he turned. His silence was more unnerving than any outburst.“Alexander?” I prompted softly, standing from my chair to peer over his shoulder.He closed the folder abruptly, his expression cold and unreadable. “It’s Damien.”“Damien?” Claire echoed, confused. “But we already knew he was working against us.”“Not just Damien,” Alexander said, his voice low and hard. “He’s
“You’re avoiding me,” I said, my voice trembling as I stood in the doorway of Alexander’s home office. The room was dimly lit, his silhouette cast against the floor-to-ceiling windows as he stared out at the city.He didn’t turn around, his shoulders tense beneath the crisp lines of his suit. “I’m not avoiding you.”“You haven’t looked me in the eye since this morning,” I shot back, stepping into the room. “And every time I try to talk to you, you shut me out.”“I’m dealing with it, Leila,” he said, his tone clipped. “You don’t need to worry about me.”“I don’t need to?” I echoed, my chest tightening. “You’re my husband, Alexander. Of course I worry about you.”He turned then, his gray eyes stormy, the weight of the world etched into every line of his face. “You don’t understand, Leila. If I let you in—if you see everything I’m dealing with—you’ll realize I’m not the man you think I am.”His words hit me like a punch to the gut. “What are you talking about?”“I’m supposed to protect y
“You should take a break,” Alexander said, his voice low as he stood in the doorway of my office. The way his tie hung loosely around his neck and his sleeves were rolled up told me he hadn’t had much rest himself.“I can’t,” I replied without looking up, my fingers flying over the keyboard. “There’s too much to fix before the next board meeting. The reports are incomplete, the projections are inconsistent, and I still don’t know where Cassandra is planning to strike next.”“She’ll strike where it hurts the most,” he said, stepping into the room. His tone was calm, but the tension in his jaw betrayed the storm simmering beneath his composed exterior.I paused, finally meeting his gaze. “And where is that?”“Everywhere,” he said grimly.The weight of his words sank in, making my chest tighten. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms as I studied him. “Then we need to stay ahead of her. If we—”Before I could finish, Alexander’s phone buzzed on the desk. He glanced at the screen, hi
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