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
I knew Alexander would fight me on this.The second Damien’s name was brought up, his expression turned to stone, his shoulders squared, and his voice took on that clipped, no-nonsense edge that meant he wasn’t willing to entertain a single conversation on the matter.“I don’t trust him, Leila,” Alexander said, pacing across the living room. “I don’t even know why you’re considering this.”I watched him, arms crossed, doing my best not to react to the sharpness in his tone. “Because I need to hear what he has to say.”He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. “Need to?” His voice dropped lower. “Damien isn’t someone you give the benefit of the doubt. He’s a liar. A manipulator. He spent years using people, hurting people, and now, when things aren’t going his way, he wants back in?”I held his stare. “People change.”Alexander let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “People like him don’t.”I knew this wasn’t just about Damien. It was about the past—the betrayals, the scars left behi
The Breaking Point“I’m not asking for permission, Alexander.”The words hung in the air, thick and unyielding, daring him to challenge them.Alexander sat behind his desk, his fingers interlocked, his expression unreadable—except for the tension that gripped his frame, stretching taut like a wire about to snap.His gaze locked onto mine, sharp as ever, but something else lurked beneath it—something wary, something he was trying to hide.“You think this is about permission?” His voice was low, controlled, but I knew better than to mistake that calm for anything other than barely contained frustration.I crossed my arms, forcing myself to hold my ground. “That’s exactly what this is about. Every time I take a step forward, you pull me back. Every time I try to take control of my own life, you remind me why I shouldn’t.”His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, deliberately, he stood. His presence filled the room, but I didn’t let myself shrink beneath it.“Lei
"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
"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
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
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 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
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