Brayden sat in his private study, his fingers tapping against the polished wood of his desk. The room was dimly lit, the only source of illumination coming from the soft glow of a single desk lamp.
Across from him sat Ryder, his most trusted ally and one of the few people he could rely on. The tension in the air was thick, unspoken words hanging between them like a storm waiting to break.“I need you to find out everything about someone who goes by the nickname Black Serpent,” Brayden said, his voice low but firm. “Both in the business world and the underground. I want to know who they are, what they do, and how deep their connections run.”Ryder leaned back in his chair, studying him carefully. “That’s a dangerous name to be chasing, Brayden. You sure about this?”Brayden’s jaw tightened. “Celeste was murdered. My daughter’s life was threatened. I don’t have the luxury of playing it safe anymore.”Ryder nodded slowly, rubbing his chin as he considered thePenelope stormed out of the hotel, her heart pounding in her chest. Humiliation burned in her veins, mixing with the unbearable sting of rejection. She had dressed up for him today, hoping—foolishly—that he would at least look at her, that he would acknowledge her presence, even for a second.But no.Brayden had only cared about his reputation, his business, and his image in the public eye.Not once had he spared her a second glance. Not once had he noticed the way her hair was styled, or how carefully she had chosen her outfit. She had stood before him, nervous and hopeful, only to be ripped apart by his cruel words.Tears welled in her eyes, and she clenched her fists, willing herself not to cry in public. But as soon as she climbed into the backseat of the taxi, the emotions she had been holding back crashed over her like a tidal wave.She wept.She wept bitterly, her shoulders shaking, her hands gripping the fabric of her skirt.Why did
Brayden sat in the private lounge of an upscale hotel, his fingers tapping impatiently against the glass table. His jaw was tight, his dark eyes stormy with fury.He hated that he even had to do this.The whole situation was absurd. His name was plastered across every media outlet, speculating that he had chosen Penelope as the model for his campaign because of their past relationship. His business rivals were having a field day, using the scandal to question his professionalism, while the board members were breathing down his neck for answers.And all of this because of her.Penelope.The woman who had somehow, once again, tangled herself into his life, whether intentionally or not.Brayden clenched his jaw, suppressing the anger simmering within him. He had requested this meeting for one reason—to get to the bottom of her lie.His eyes flickered to his watch. She was running late.Just as he was about to call his assistant, the door to the loun
Brayden groaned as the sound of his phone vibrating against his nightstand woke him up. He reached out blindly, grabbing the device and squinting at the screen. Multiple notifications flooded his phone—calls, messages, and news alerts, all related to the same topic.He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face before opening one of the news articles. His jaw clenched the moment he read the headline.“Billionaire Brayden Giovanni Chooses Former Lover as Face of New Campaign—Business or Personal?”Brayden’s grip tightened around the phone.What the hell was this?He scrolled through the article, his irritation growing with each line. Reporters were speculating that he had deliberately chosen Penelope as the model for his subsidiary’s campaign, implying that it was a personal decision rather than a business one.His company was now swarming with reporters, all demanding answers.With a frustrated sigh, he immediately dialed the number of his company’s manager. Th
Brayden sat in his office, scrolling through the collaboration proposal that had just landed in his inbox. His sharp blue eyes scanned the details, analyzing every aspect of the deal. On paper, the proposal seemed promising—the fashion company wanted to partner with one of his subsidiary companies to promote their new cosmetic products.Everything looked standard, but then his eyes caught something that made his breath hitch for just a second.Penelope Lorenzo.Brayden’s jaw tightened as he saw her name listed among the representatives from the company handling the marketing aspect of the project. He had spent the past weeks trying to push her out of his thoughts, convincing himself that she was nothing more than a woman who had worked for him temporarily. But every time he felt like he was finally moving on, something always brought her back into his life.Brayden exhaled sharply, shaking his head. No. He wasn’t going to let this affect him. He d
Brayden sat in his study, reviewing several reports with a deep frown. The dim lighting cast a shadow over his sharp features as he skimmed through documents, his mind juggling multiple pressing matters. He didn’t look up when a knock sounded at the door.“Come in,” he said, his voice calm but authoritative.Inez entered, moving swiftly but without urgency. She was efficient, as always, her face composed as she strode toward his desk. A flash drive rested in the palm of her hand, which she placed carefully in front of him before taking a seat.“I retrieved some information from the reporter’s computer,” she stated. “I made sure to leave no trace behind. It would be impossible for him to detect any kind of breach of someone going through this stuff in his laptop.”Brayden picked up the flash drive, turning it between his fingers as he studied her. “And what did you find in his laptop?”Inez crossed her legs, her voice crisp and professional. “T
Penelope stepped out of the taxi and took a deep breath, staring up at the towering glass building in front of her. A sense of pride and accomplishment swelled in her chest as she adjusted her bag and smoothed down her blouse. This was it—the beginning of a new chapter in her life. No longer defined by her past, no longer running. She had worked hard to get here, and today, she was stepping into a future she had built for herself.Walking through the glass doors, she was immediately greeted by a well-dressed receptionist sitting behind a sleek, modern desk.“Good morning! How can I help you?” the woman asked with a warm smile.“I’m Penelope Lorenzo. I’m starting today,” she replied, returning the smile.The receptionist’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh, welcome! Mrs. Jenkins has been expecting you. If you follow me, I’ll take you to her office.”Penelope nodded and followed her down a well-lit hallway. Employees walked past them, some engaged in hushed co