The air outside was cold, carrying the distant hum of the city as Gabriel led Daniela toward an elegant restaurant pushed into a quiet corner of the bustling district. The golden glow of streetlights reflected on the pavement, and the rhythmic sounds of passing cars created a soothing backdrop to the turmoil raging in her mind.Daniela’s hands trembled slightly as she held onto the small purse by her side. Her thoughts were still tangled with the overwhelming discoveries she had made about Alexander. Her heart pounded with questions she had no answers to.Gabriel, sensing her fear, spoke softly. “I thought you could use a break, Daniela. You’ve been carrying too much on your shoulders.”She forced a weak smile. “I appreciate it, but I doubt a dinner can change what I’m feeling right now.”“Maybe not,” Gabriel admitted. “But at least it might help you breathe for a moment.”She hesitated before nodding, realizing that fighting him on this wouldn’t do her any good. Her world had just b
Alexander woke up to a headache and the weight of regret pressing against his chest. He had barely slept since signing the contract, his mind tormented by the consequences of his decision. The ink had dried, and now, the real game had begun.He sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the early morning skyline through his penthouse window. The city was alive, oblivious to the chaos inside h. He had gambled everything—his company, his reputation, and now, his last house.A sharp knock at the door snapped him from his thoughts."Come in," he called out.His personal assistant, Jordan, stepped in, carrying a tablet. His expression was concerned."Sir, you need to see this."Alexander took the tablet and scrolled through the financial reports. His hands left him as he saw the latest updates. The numbers weren’t improving—they were getting worse."Mikhailov has already started making moves," Jordan continued. "He increased his stake to 45% overnight. The board is uneasy."Alexander cursed un
Alexander stood in the middle of his now-empty office, the echo of his own breathing filling the vast space. The once-proud empire he had built, the legacy he had fought for, had been stripped from him—piece by piece.The desk, the bookshelves, even the paintings that once hung on the walls—all gone. Mikhailov had taken everything.His phone buzzed, breaking the suffocating silence. He pulled it out of his pocket, already knowing what it was.Final Notice: Vacate the premises within 48 hours.His house—the last thing tying him to his old life—was no longer his.A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. So this was what rock bottom felt like.He collapsed into his chair, rubbing his temples. He had no office. No home. No money.And worse—no one to turn to.Everyone he once trusted had distanced themselves the moment his empire began to crumble. The board members had voted him out. The investors had withdrawn their support. Even Daniela—one of his closest allies—had walked away.Alexander Laws
Alexander sat on the cold park bench, staring into the distance. The city lights flickered in the background, a cruel reminder of the life he once had. The weight of his downfall settled over him like a heavy cloak, suffocating him with regret.He had been at the top once, untouchable, commanding respect wherever he went. Now, he was just another ruined man, stripped of everything, abandoned by those who once called him a friend.The thought made his stomach twist with anger.Then, like a spark in the darkness, a memory surfaced—Richard’s house.His late brother’s estate had been vacant for years. At least, it should have been. No one had lived there since Richard's passing. Alexander had avoided it, too consumed by work, by deals, by the empire he had built.Now, that empire was gone."That is… if someone else hasn’t taken it over by now," he muttered under his breath.It was a risk. He had no guarantee that the house was still empty, but it was the only option he had.Pushing himsel
Deep in the heart of the village, a small gathering of elders sat in a dimly lit chamber within the royal palace. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense, and the flickering flames of oil lamps cast eerie shadows across the stone walls.The Oracle, a frail old man draped in ceremonial robes, sat at the head of the room. His voice, though weak with age, carried an undeniable weight of authority.“The time is near,” he said, his milky eyes gazing into the flames before him. “The throne cannot remain empty much longer. If the rightful heir does not return, the spirits of our ancestors will unleash their wrath.”A murmur ran through the elders. They had waited long enough. Alexander Lawson, whether he liked it or not, was destined to be king.One of the chief messengers, a tall, broad-shouldered man named Chief Obiora, stepped forward. “We have already sent word before, but he has ignored us,” he said, frustration evident in his tone.The Oracle’s gaze remained fixed on the fi
Gabriel sat in his car, parked outside an upscale café, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. He took a deep breath before dialing the number he had saved weeks ago.The phone rang twice before a smooth, professional voice answered. “Elegant Affairs Event Planning, this is Amelia speaking. How may I assist you?”Gabriel adjusted his cufflinks, his pulse quickening. “Hello, Amelia. My name is Gabriel Carter. I need your services for something very special.”Amelia’s tone remained polite but sharpened with interest. “Of course, Mr. Carter. Could you tell me what kind of event you’re looking to plan?”He leaned back in his seat, a small smile tugging at his lips. “A proposal. A surprise proposal.”There was a brief pause before Amelia spoke again, her voice tinged with excitement. “That’s wonderful! Do you have a vision for how you’d like it to unfold?”Gabriel’s eyes softened as he thought of Daniela—her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about her dreams, th
Alexander sat in the dimly lit living room of his late brother’s house, his fingers tightening around the glass of whiskey in his hand. The ice clinked softly against the crystal, the sound barely audible over the storm raging in his mind.It had been days since the royal messengers had come looking for him, delivering the Oracle’s warning.One month.That was all the time he had left before he had to return to the palace and take the throne.Or suffer whatever curse awaited him.His chest tightened. He had never believed in the village superstitions, but Richard had—before he died. His brother had always warned him that the throne was not something that could be abandoned. It would come back for him, whether he was ready or not.Now, he was beginning to think Richard had been right all along.He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts, as much as he tried to push them away, kept circling back to one person.Daniela.His jaw clenc
Alexander turned the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The soft hum of the engine did little to drown out the whirlwind of thoughts in his head. He was on his way to find Daniela—but an unsettling realization made him slow down, pulling over on the quiet roadside.He didn’t even know where she lived.His breath came in ragged spurts as he leaned his head against the steering wheel. How long had it been since they last spoke? Months, maybe even a year. The last time he’d seen her was during Richard’s final confession—the moment his brother admitted to murdering their son. Alexander had stood frozen, unable to muster a single word, as Daniela’s world fell apart before his eyes.And now, after everything he had done, he expected her to hear him out?He slammed a fist against the wheel. "Idiot," he muttered to himself.How could he find her?Her friends.The thought lit a spark of hope in his chest. There was one friend of hers he knew fairly well—Sarah. She had b
The palace was quiet—too quiet. Even the birds that usually fluttered outside the grand windows of the king’s chamber were absent, as if nature itself mourned the weariness of the man within.Alexander sat on the edge of his bed, the heavy robe of royalty pooling around him like a shroud. The golden crown, once proudly perched upon his head, now lay abandoned on the floor, its polished surface reflecting nothing but a broken legacy.He had sent the servants away hours ago, requesting solitude. But truth be told, he had been alone for far longer than that—ever since Daniela left, ever since the boy vanished. Ever since he traded his humanity for power.The voices from the past echoed relentlessly in his mind."You want her to be queen? There is a way…""Put this powder in her drink. It will cloud her mind and draw her to you.""Rub this oil on your palms before you touch her—she will not resist.""You must act fast. The elders are watching. You need an heir."At the time, it all seemed
The palace was quieter these days—too quiet for a man who once ruled with noise, power, and pride. Alexander sat by his window, fingers toying with a half-filled goblet of wine. Outside, the moonlight brushed the edges of the thatched palace roof, casting ghostly shadows on the walls. Chisom had long drifted to sleep, her breathing soft, steady. But Alexander was wide awake—again.It had been six moons since she was brought to him, her skin soft as silk, her smile gentle, her body yielding. Each night, she came to his bed, and each night, he held hope in his loins and in his heart. But morning always came with the same bitter emptiness. No signs. No whispers of cravings. No swelling belly. No child.He had tried everything—spiced roots, fertility herbs from the palace medicine woman, and even late-night rituals performed by the native priest. Still… nothing.Alexander rose from the bed, pacing the cold marble floor with heavy feet. A fire burned in the hearth, but it did little to tha
The morning sun filtered through the bright white curtains of their new apartment, casting golden rays across the hardwood floor. Lydia stirred beneath the duvet, her hand instinctively reaching out to the other side of the bed.Empty.She blinked, sat up, and glanced around. The soft scent of brewed coffee and toasted bread teased her nose. A smile curled on her lips.He’s in the kitchen again.Throwing on a light robe, she padded down the hallway and into the warm, open space where Gabriel stood shirtless, wearing joggers and flipping pancakes with an exaggerated chef’s flair.“You’re going to burn them,” Lydia teased, leaning against the doorframe.Gabriel turned, spatula in hand, and grinned. “And good morning to my beautiful wife.”She walked up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. “Good morning, chef husband.”He kissed the top of her head, then plated a stack of fluffy pancakes. “I thought we could eat on the balcony today. The sun’s not too harsh yet.”They
The early morning sun filtered through the intricate lattice windows of the palace, casting golden shapes across the polished floors. Drums beat faintly in the distance, signaling the dawn of a new day—and a new queen.Chisom sat quietly on the edge of a carved mahogany bed, her feet barely touching the polished ground. Around her, the royal maids fluttered like bees, tying her hair into delicate loops, rubbing her arms with perfumed oil, and whispering instructions she barely absorbed.“Your new robe, my queen,” one of the maids said, presenting a cloth woven with silver threads and royal blue patterns. “You must wear it before you greet the king.”Chisom nodded faintly, still unsure how to wear the title of "queen" in her heart. The palace air was thick—not just with incense, but with the weight of expectation. She could feel it in the walls, in the eyes of the elders who measured her with unspoken judgment, and in the stiff bow of the guards who had served another before her.As sh
The palace air brimmed with anticipation, thick like a brewing storm. Inside the grand hall, the scent of burning incense drifted from gold-plated bowls, curling in the air like whispers from the ancestors. Soft drums echoed in the background, played by two palace boys, steady and ceremonial. The marble floors had been scrubbed to glass-like shine, reflecting the rows of candles burning along the corridor.Alexander sat on the throne, robed in deep crimson, his royal crown resting heavy on his head. His face was unreadable—a mask of calm, yet behind his eyes, something stirred. Pain. Memory. Resignation. This was not how he envisioned choosing a queen.Beside him, a guard stood silently, holding a scroll with the names of the maidens. The chamberlain motioned, and the doors opened.One by one, the virgins began to enter.The first maiden, Awele, stepped forward with her head lowered, her feet bare, anklets chiming with each timid step. She was beautiful—smooth dark skin, full lips, an
The sky above the palace bled into a melancholic gray, the sun hiding behind thick clouds as though mourning with the king. The royal garden, once Daniela’s favorite place, stood untended. Wildflowers grew in stubborn defiance through cracks in the once manicured paths. The scent of blooming hibiscus clashed with the scent of time—that old, dusty silence that lingered in places where laughter had died.King Alexander stood still on the palace balcony, arms crossed behind his back, cloaked in heavy velvet. He wasn't the same man he was two years ago. The weight of loss had carved lines into his once-youthful face. His shoulders drooped beneath invisible burdens. Power still clothed him, yes, but it no longer fitted him like pride—it clung to him like grief.His eyes scanned the horizon—the same trail Daniela had once fled down with the child. The same trail the guards had failed to watch. His jaw clenched at the memory.Every now and then, he imagined seeing her figure walking back, ch
The evening of the engagement party felt like a dream to Lydia. The grand ballroom was bathed in warm, golden light. Crystal chandeliers hung high above, their glimmering reflections dancing across the polished marble floor. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries, depicting stories of love, fortune, and legacy. Every corner of the room was carefully designed to evoke luxury, but it was the people who made it truly come alive.Guests murmured and laughed in soft clusters, champagne glasses clinking as they raised their toasts to Gabriel and Lydia. They had all come from different walks of life—wealthy socialites, business moguls, close friends of the family. But tonight, there was one thing that united them all: the promise of the future, the joining of two lives. Gabriel stood at the center of it all, a striking figure in a tailored suit, his posture confident but warm as he greeted guests. He was the picture of a man who had everything under control. But as his eyes scanned
The soft light of the morning sun was seen through the blinds, spilling its warmth over the living room of Gabriel’s apartment. Lydia sat on the sofa, her bare feet tucked under her as she scrolled through a wedding magazine, lost in thought. The room was filled with the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee, and the faint hum of the city outside only added to the quiet peace of the moment.Gabriel had just stepped out of the shower, a towel draped low on his hips, his hair still damp. He smiled as he saw her lost in the magazine, the occasional flutter of the page drawing her attention. It was one of those simple, perfect moments that made him feel like everything he’d ever wanted was right here.“You look like you’re plotting world domination,” Gabriel teased, stepping into the kitchen, his voice a warm caress.Lydia glanced up from the pages, offering him a playful scowl. “I’m plotting the perfect wedding, thank you very much. There’s a difference.”“Ah, my mistake,” he grinned, lean
Dark clouds thickened above the palace like a warning, casting long shadows that crept along the courtyard stones. A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the occasional rustle of dry wind against the banana trees that lined the palace fence.Alexander stood stiffly near the throne room window, eyes fixed on the sky. When the priest finally arrived, the guards ushered him in with reverence. The old man’s steps were slow, but his presence demanded respect. His hair, thick and snowy white, spilled down to his shoulders like ancestral feathers. His robe, dyed deep maroon with sacred herbs, carried the scent of ancient incense.He bowed slightly, then looked up. His eyes—milky but sharp—settled on Alexander’s face. “You sent for me, Your Highness?”Alexander gestured toward a mat. “Sit. There is trouble in the land.”The priest slowly lowered himself, folding his legs under him. “I know,” he said softly, voice like wind brushing through dried leaves. “The spirits whispered last ni