“Perception is everything,” I said, pacing the conference room as Alexander leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching me. “We can’t just rebuild Steele Industries from the inside. We need the world to see the company for what it truly is—a force for good.”“Sounds like a PR move,” Richard Laughton said, his tone sceptical as always. The senior board member leaned forward, his piercing gaze fixed on me. “How do you plan to make this more than just another publicity stunt?”“It’s not PR,” I replied firmly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “It’s about creating tangible, visible change. Steele Industries doesn’t just recover from challenges—we rise above them. And this time, we’ll take the community with us.”The room fell silent, all eyes on me as I outlined the project. The idea was ambitious: a multi-million-dollar initiative focusing on community redevelopment, education, and sustainable innovation. It wasn’t just about repairing the company’s reputation; it was about provin
“I’m not him.” Alexander’s voice was sharp, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed the weight behind those words. He was sitting at the edge of our bed, his tie already discarded and his sleeves rolled up. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast long shadows across his face, making him look both powerful and vulnerable.I leaned against the doorway, watching him. “No one said you were.”“You don’t have to,” he said, staring down at his hands. “It’s always there. That voice in the back of my head, reminding me of everything he was… and everything I’m not.”I walked over, sitting beside him. His silence wasn’t new; Alexander didn’t often talk about his father, and when he did, it was usually because the pressure had built too high to ignore. But this time, something was different. This wasn’t just guilt—it was fear.“You’re not your father, Alexander,” I said softly. “And you never will be.”He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his dark hair. “That’s what I tell myself.
I stared at the glittering skyline from the penthouse balcony, the city buzzing below with an energy that never seemed to sleep. It should have felt exhilarating. Instead, I felt like an imposter.“You’ve been quiet,” Alexander said, stepping outside with two glasses of wine. His presence, always so steady, should have grounded me, but tonight it only made the knot in my chest tighten.I accepted the glass, avoiding his gaze. “Just thinking.”“Dangerous pastime,” he teased, sitting beside me. But when I didn’t respond, his teasing tone shifted to concern. “Leila, what’s going on?”For a moment, I considered brushing it off. But the weight of my insecurities, the unspoken doubts that had been festering for months, refused to stay buried.“I don’t belong here,” I said finally, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.Alexander frowned, his glass hovering midair. “What are you talking about?”“This,” I said, gesturing to the sprawling cityscape, the penthouse, the life we’d built
“There’s no way this is a coincidence.” Alexander’s voice was tight, his fingers drumming on the edge of his desk as he stared at the document in front of us.I leaned over his shoulder, my pulse quickening as I read the details again. It wasn’t just a harmless oversight—it was deliberate. The numbers in the latest financial report had been subtly manipulated, discrepancies small enough to avoid immediate suspicion but glaring to anyone paying close attention.“It has to be Cassandra,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.Alexander glanced at me, his jaw clenched. “She’s gone, Leila. Out of the picture.”“But what if she’s not?” I countered, straightening. “What if she’s still pulling strings from the outside?”He stood, running a hand through his hair. The tension in the room was suffocating, the air thick with the weight of unspoken fears. “If she still has allies inside the company, this isn’t just sabotage—it’s a ticking time bomb.”The discovery had come unexpectedly, buried
“Leila Steele,” a smooth, deep voice said as I turned around at the edge of the gala’s bustling crowd. The man before me was impeccably dressed, his tailored suit sharp enough to cut glass. His confident smile exuded power and familiarity, though I couldn’t quite place him.“Yes?” I replied cautiously, gripping my champagne flute tighter.He extended a hand. “Elliot Harrington. A private investor with an eye for potential—and a knack for spotting it in others.”I hesitated, glancing around the room to see if Alexander was nearby. He wasn’t. I shook his hand, keeping my expression neutral. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington. What can I do for you?”“It’s not what you can do for me,” he said with a charming smile. “It’s what I can do for you. I’ve been following Steele Industries closely—your recent initiatives, your leadership, your vision. It’s all very… compelling.”Compelling? That word hung in the air, unsettling. “I appreciate the interest,” I said, keeping my tone polite. “But Ste
The chandelier above glimmered like a galaxy of stars, casting a soft, golden glow over the sea of evening gowns and tailored tuxedos. The high-profile gala was an annual event, a convergence of power, wealth, and influence that Alexander and I had become accustomed to attending. But tonight, the air felt heavier, the whispers sharper, the stakes higher.“You’ve been quiet,” Alexander said, his low voice cutting through the hum of conversation as we made our way through the crowd. His hand rested lightly on the small of my back, a grounding presence amid the chaos.“I’m just observing,” I replied, my gaze scanning the room. Faces turned as we passed, their smiles too polished, their eyes too curious. It wasn’t admiration I saw—it was scrutiny.“Observing what?” he asked, his tone casual, though I could hear the edge beneath it.“Everything,” I said simply.The tension started before we even walked into the gala.“I don’t see why we need to go,” I said earlier that evening, standing i
“I don’t like the way this feels,” Alexander said, his voice low and clipped as he stared at the laptop screen in front of him. His sharp, gray eyes darkened with frustration, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of his desk.I leaned over his shoulder, my heart sinking as I read the email thread he had pulled up. It was brief, almost innocuous on the surface, but the implications beneath it were chilling. The messages were between a key investor—Jonathan Grayson—and an untraceable account we’d now confirmed belonged to Cassandra.“What do we know?” I asked, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.Alexander clicked through a few more documents, his jaw tightening. “Grayson’s been receiving instructions for months. She’s been feeding him information, influencing his decisions, and, from the looks of it, trying to turn him against Steele Industries.”I sank into the chair across from him, my mind racing. “Why now? Why would she go after an investor this late in
The weight of the decision pressed against my chest like a vice, tightening with each passing second. I had replayed every possible outcome, every consequence, but no matter how I tried to spin it, the reality remained the same—this was a risk. A dangerous, reckless, all-or-nothing risk.But I was done playing it safe.Alexander sat at his desk, fingers steepled, eyes burning with skepticism as he stared at me from across the room. "Absolutely not."I exhaled sharply, my hands pressing into the arms of the chair to keep myself grounded. "We don’t have any other choice, Alexander. She’s winning. Cassandra has twisted the media, swayed board members, and poisoned your own allies against you. The only way to stop her is to cut her off at the knees."His jaw clenched. "By throwing yourself into the fire?""By taking control," I corrected. "By showing the world that I am more than just your wife sitting pretty in the background. This is the moment, Alexander. If we don’t act now, we lose e
The envelope sat on my desk like a loaded gun, demanding to be opened.I ran my fingers over the embossed lettering, my name gleaming in gold foil. The weight of the invitation alone told me this wasn’t just another industry event.It was the event.Leila Steele, CEO of Steele Holdings, is cordially invited to speak at the Global Business Women’s Summit.My chest tightened. This wasn’t about Alexander. This wasn’t about my marriage. This was about me.And I wasn’t sure if I was ready.“Are you going to keep staring at it, or are you going to say yes?”I looked up to see Alexander leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, expression unreadable.“It’s a big deal,” I said, my voice quieter than I wanted it to be.He stepped inside, took the invitation from my hands, and scanned it. “Of course, it is. You’ve earned this.”Doubt gnawed at me. “Or maybe they invited me because of you.”His jaw tightened. “Leila.”I forced a small smile. “I just don’t want to walk into a room and have
The First Strike The lawsuit was filed at dawn. By noon, it was on every major news outlet. By evening, the world knew that Alexander Steele had declared war. I sat in the sleek black leather chair of Alexander’s office, scrolling through endless headlines. "Steele Enterprises Takes Luxor Industries to Court—Corporate War Begins!" "Damien King Accused of Corporate Espionage—Is Cassandra Knight the Puppet Master?" "Alexander Steele’s Billion-Dollar Lawsuit: The Fight That Could Reshape the Industry." Alexander stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his hands in his pockets, his stance deceptively relaxed. But I could see the tension in his shoulders. “They wanted a war,” he said, his voice smooth but razor-sharp. “Now they have one.” I exhaled, setting my phone on the table. “You really think Damien’s going to roll over because of a lawsuit?” His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “No. I expect him to fight. But he doesn’t have what I have.” “And what’s
The Return to ChaosThe moment we stepped off the jet, I knew something was wrong.Alexander’s phone vibrated. Once. Twice. Then mine. The sudden onslaught of calls and texts wasn’t normal. My stomach clenched as I glanced at the notifications stacking up like bricks.Alexander barely had time to check his screen before his face hardened, his grip tightening around his phone.“Leila.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade.I looked up, my own phone buzzing in my hand. “What?”He turned the screen toward me.BREAKING NEWS: DAMIEN KING AND CASSANDRA KNIGHT UNVEIL LUXOR INDUSTRIES, A DIRECT COMPETITOR TO STEELE ENTERPRISES.My breath left my lungs. No.“Impossible,” I whispered. “He wouldn’t—”Alexander was already dialing.The second Liam answered, his voice was tight. “Boss, it’s bad.”Alexander clenched his jaw. “Tell me.”“Damien launched a direct competitor overnight. Luxor Industries. Cassandra’s funding it. They’ve already poached several of our people—incl
The RetreatThe rhythmic crash of waves against the shore was the only sound that filled the silence between us. The villa—perched on the edge of the Mediterranean, isolated from the chaos we had just left behind—was a stark contrast to the storm raging between me and Alexander.I stood at the open balcony, watching the moonlight cast a silver glow over the endless stretch of water. The air smelled of salt and jasmine, but I barely noticed it. My thoughts were tangled in the tension still hanging in the space between us.I heard the door close softly behind me, followed by the sound of Alexander’s footsteps.“We needed this,” he said, his voice low, rough.I didn’t turn around. “Did we?”A beat of silence. Then—“Yes.”I closed my eyes for a second, exhaling slowly. “Running away won’t fix what’s broken between us, Alexander.”“We’re not running.” His voice was closer now. “We’re breathing.”I turned then, meeting his gaze. There was something vulnerable in the way he looked at me—lik
"You shouldn’t have gotten involved."The words sent an icy chill through me.I stared down at the unmarked envelope that had been slipped under my office door, my fingers gripping the letter inside a little too tightly. The words were typed, no signature, no clues, but the message was clear.This wasn’t a warning.It was a threat.A direct hit meant to rattle me, to shake me into submission.I swallowed, forcing down the unease curling in my stomach as I read the letter again.Stay in your lane, Mrs. Hawke. Or next time, we won’t just be watching.The air in my office felt heavy, closing in around me. The logical side of my brain told me to breathe, to think. But the other part—the one ruled by instinct—was screaming at me to run.I wasn’t naïve. I knew the kind of world I had stepped into when I married Alexander.But this?This was different.I grabbed my phone, my fingers hovering over Alexander’s contact. I hesitated.He was already on edge. Already carrying too much.And I hated
This isn’t over until we cut out the rot."Alexander’s voice was steel, each word carrying the weight of a war that had dragged on too long. I watched him from across the room, the tension in his jaw tightening with every second that passed.It wasn’t just business anymore.It was personal.For months, we had been dismantling Cassandra’s empire, unraveling the chaos she had left behind, piece by piece. But now, the last thread had revealed itself—someone inside Steele Industries, someone still loyal to her, pulling strings in the shadows.And they weren’t going down without a fight.Alexander’s fingers drummed against the table, his eyes locked on the confidential report in front of him."Who is it?" I asked, my voice steady despite the storm brewing in my chest.He exhaled sharply, flipping the report shut before looking up. "Jameson Hale."I felt the impact of that name like a physical blow."Hale?" My stomach twisted. "But he’s been with the company for years—long before Cassandra.
You need to make a decision, Alexander."The weight of those words hung in the air, thick and unrelenting.I sat stiffly in the boardroom, my fingers tightening around the armrests of my chair as I watched Alexander across the table. His posture was as rigid as steel, his face an unreadable mask, but the sharp tick of his jaw gave him away.They were cornering him.And I was the reason why.The men seated around us—billionaire investors, executives who prided themselves on running the empire with an iron fist—didn’t even bother to hide their distaste for me."She’s become a liability," Charles Weaver said, his voice smooth, cutting. "The press is running wild with stories about her influence, and investors are questioning your judgment."Another man, Richard Caldwell, nodded. "The company cannot afford more instability. The most strategic move would be to separate personal affairs from business."Separate.Like I was just another mistake he needed to erase.I swallowed hard, willing m
"What are you not telling me?"The question escaped before I could stop it. My voice trembled, it was a quiet demand that sliced through the charged silence between us.Alexander’s fingers tightened around the glass in his hand, his knuckles whitening. The city skyline stretched behind him, but he wasn’t looking at it. He was looking at me.And I knew.Something had shifted.Something had been kept from me.And the moment I opened that file earlier today, my entire world tilted on its axis.He set his drink down, exhaling slowly, measuredly. "Leila, you don’t—""Don’t say I don’t understand," I cut him off, stepping forward, my heart pounding so hard I felt it in my fingertips. "Because I do. I just don’t know why."His jaw flexed. He ran a hand through his hair, a rare sign of unease. Alexander Hawke didn’t fidget. He didn’t hesitate. But right now, he was a man at war with himself."Tell me the truth," I whispered. "No more secrets. No more half-truths. I deserve to know."His silen
"This isn’t a disaster—it’s a dumpster fire with a VIP ticket to hell." The words hit like a wrecking ball, shattering the last fragile hope I had that we could control this mess. I sat stiffly at the long mahogany table, my fingers curled around my pen so tightly my knuckles ached. The air in the boardroom felt thick, suffocating, charged with the kind of energy that came when billions of dollars were at stake. Across from me, Alexander leaned forward, his hands flat on the table, his expression carved from stone. His suit was crisp, his presence as commanding as ever, but I could see the tension rippling beneath his skin. He was holding on by a thread, his patience dangerously close to snapping. “Fix this, Leila,”* he growled, his voice a low rumble of impending thunder. *“Or I’ll start burying bodies instead of problems.” I exhaled slowly. *Stay calm. Stay in control.“We can fix this.” My voice was steady, though my pulse was anything but. Alexander’s gaze locked onto mi