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
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 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 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 moment I stepped onto the stage, I knew something was wrong. It wasn’t the usual pre-speech jitters or the weight of a thousand eyes watching me. No, this was different. A tension hummed in the air, thick and heavy, pressing against my chest like an unseen force. I adjusted my mic, scanning the sea of faces. The audience was packed—CEOs, investors, and the most influential figures in the industry. The Global Business Women’s Summit was supposed to be a milestone for me, a defining moment where I solidified my presence in the corporate world without Alexander’s name acting as my shield. But something felt off. Then, the murmurs started. Quiet at first, barely noticeable over the rustle of programs and clinking glasses. But it spread like wildfire, a ripple of hushed voices and exchanged glances. I swallowed hard and gripped the podium. "Good afternoon, everyone," I started, my voice steady despite the unease curling in my gut. "I’m honored to stand here today as a woman in bu
The firestorm didn’t end when I stepped off that stage. It only grew.By the time I reached the car, my phone was a battlefield of notifications. News articles, social media debates, and panel discussions dissect my every word, every expression, and every breath. Some called me fearless. Others called me a fraud. One thing was clear—I wasn’t just Alexander Hawke’s wife anymore. I was Leila Adams, and the world had finally taken notice. But at what cost?The FalloutAlexander barely let me sit down before he turned to me, his jaw clenched so tightly I swore I could hear his teeth grind. "Are you okay?" His voice was low and strained like he was holding back a storm.I exhaled slowly, still processing the chaos. "I handled it."His eyes darkened. "You shouldn’t have had to."I leaned back, crossing my arms. "You think I was just going to stand there and let her tear me apart? No. I’m not a pawn in her game, Alexander. I never was."His hands curled into fists. "This isn’t a game, Leila.
The DiscoveryI paced Alexander’s office, my pulse pounding as I skimmed the documents again. The weight of the numbers—the sheer scale of what Damien had done—made my stomach churn.Alexander sat at his desk, eyes scanning the reports, but the growing darkness in his expression said everything before he spoke."Tell me this is a mistake." His voice was deadly quiet.I placed the last folder on his desk and met his unwavering gaze. "It’s not. Damien has been siphoning money for years. The audit confirms it. He set up shell corporations, fake accounts, and transferred over fifty million dollars out of Steele Industries."A long, thick silence settled between us before he exhaled sharply, pressing his palms flat against the desk. "And Cassandra?""She knew." I handed him another set of files. "Not just knew—she was in on it. She funneled money into offshore accounts and disguised it as ‘business investments.’ We have emails, wire transfers, everything."Alexander's grip tightened around
The café was tucked away on a quiet street, far enough from the prying eyes of the press, Steele Industries, and most importantly—Alexander.I sat at a corner table, my fingers wrapped around a lukewarm cup of coffee I wasn’t drinking. Every muscle in my body was tight with anticipation as I waited. The city’s usual hum seemed distant, muffled by the weight of what I was about to do.A chair scraped against the floor, and I looked up.The man across from me was older, weathered, dressed in a dark suit that had seen better days. There was something sharp in his gaze, something that told me he wasn’t meeting me here for goodwill."Leila Hawthorne," he greeted, his voice smooth but edged with caution.I met his stare. "You used to work for Cassandra."His lips curled in something resembling a smirk. "Once upon a time."I leaned forward. "Then you know why we’re here."A beat of silence. Then he let out a slow breath. "I know you want to bring her down. But what makes you think I’ll help
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