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A Hollow Promise
Last Updated:
2025-04-16 22:37:54
Latest chapter
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil The Weight Of A Legacy
ALEXANDER'S POV My father’s words had a way of echoing long after they were spoken, each syllable sharp and deliberate, like a blade dragging through stone. As I sat in my room, staring blankly at the city lights spilling in through the tall windows, I could still hear his voice from the gala last night, judging Isabella.And me.It wasn’t anger I felt—it was something worse. A hollow ache. I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms as I thought about the woman downstairs, alone in a house that had never welcomed her.I had never been good with emotions. That wasn’t what Presleys did. My mother was the only one who had ever shown me how to care for someone, and she was gone before I could understand how much I needed her lessons. My father, on the other hand, had taught me to focus on one thing and one thing only: the family empire.Feelings were liabilities. Relationships were distractions. And love? Love was a foolish fairy tale meant for those who didn’t have empires to r
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil A Test Of Loyalties
I sat motionless in my chair as Marco's name was called out, echoing in my ears. My pulse was racing out of control as my fists grasped the hem of my silk dress.Why was his name being called out so solemnly, and how the heck did he get here? With a serene assurance radiating from each step, I observed Marco coming up the stage.He commanded the attention of everyone in the opulent ballroom as he stood in front of the podium. Marco said, "Good evening, esteemed guests,"his deep voice effortlessly rising above the muttering of the audience. He continued "Being asked to speak at this gala is an honor. I'm here to highlight how chances that reshape our lives can arise from the challenges we experience, even if my path as an art designer has been anything but typical".As I tried to take in the words, I blinked. A struggling art designer? When had Marco developed into such a polished speaker, addressing a crowd filled with elites like he belonged here?Alexander, who was sitting next to
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil The Couples Gala
Sunlight streamed through the thick curtains, but it brought no warmth. I lay still, my mind tangled in the events of the previous day. Marco. His face had been a mirror of emotions—relief, surprise, and something deeper I couldn’t name.Guilt clawed at me as I thought back to our conversation. I hadn’t even taken his number. My old phone, lost on my wedding day, had erased every connection to my past life. And now, standing in the shoes of a Presley’s wife, reconnecting felt almost impossible.The memory of him being thrown out of the estate that day haunted me. The humiliation he’d faced, the cruel laughter of strangers—how could I have let that happen? A wave of regret surged through me.I whispered to myself, “I just wanted to feel close to him again, but being Mrs. Presley... it’s a cage.”A knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts. Before I could answer, the maids entered, their cheerful chatter filling the room.“Good morning, Mrs. Presley,” one said, setting a breakfast
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil A Billionaire's Gesture
Marco stood before me, his expression a blend of shock and something softer—relief, perhaps. My heart raced as the weight of the moment settled over us. Time felt like it stretched infinitely, and for a brief second, nothing else existed.Without thinking, I threw my arms around him. He hesitated only a second before his arms wrapped tightly around me, pulling me into a warm, familiar embrace. The scent of him—faint cologne and something uniquely Marco—tugged at memories I had buried long ago.“Marco,” I whispered, barely audible.“I can’t believe it,” he murmured against my hair. “Isabella...”The sound of my name in his voice sent a pang through my chest. It was as if no time had passed and yet, everything had changed.Around us, hushed murmurs and the shuffling of footsteps reminded me we weren’t alone. I pulled back, suddenly aware of the curious stares from my colleagues. Marco’s hands lingered briefly on my shoulders before he let them drop.“I... I didn’t know you worked here,
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil New Beginnings, Old Shadows
The spacious dining hall was bathed in a warm glow as the evening sun sank below the horizon.Near the floor-to-ceiling windows, which provided a charming view of the expansive Presley estate, a modest table had been placed.Alexander was seated when I got there, his posture casual yet composed, a far cry from his usual formal composure.As I walked in, a gentle smile tugged at his lips as he looked up. "You're right on time."Uncertain of how to read his tone, I paused at the threshold.Was this another one of his calculated gestures, or was this just another one of his calculating gestures? He got up and brought me a chair. "Please take a seat."His sudden generosity knocked me off balance, but I made myself stay calm. I mutely responded, "Thank you," and accepted the offered seat.Delicate servings of grilled fish, roasted veggies, and a thick wine sauce that smelled exquisite were presented promptly by the waiter.Alexander said nothing till the waiters had left. In a sincere ton
Beneath The Billionaire's Veil A Step Forward
Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, the warm glow dancing across the lavish furnishings of my room. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the small velvet box on my dresser. Alexander’s unexpected gesture still lingered in my mind, but I pushed it aside for now. Today was about reclaiming a piece of myself. I rose and moved to the closet, my fingers trailing over the expensive fabrics hanging neatly in rows. Nothing felt like me—too extravagant, too ostentatious—but I finally settled on a navy blue pantsuit, simple yet professional. I tied my hair into a low ponytail, hoping the look would exude confidence. The thought of stepping out into the world outside the Presley mansion was both liberating and daunting. After all, I wasn’t just Isabella anymore; I was Isabella Presley. And the weight of that name carried expectations I wasn’t sure I could meet. --- The driver, Thomas, was already waiting for me in the driveway when I came down the grand staircase. He nodd
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