Asher adjusted his cufflinks as the elevator descended, the sharp ding of each floor calming his nerves more than the silence had. Beside him, Eira was perched like a queen, legs crossed, arms folded, and oversized pink heart shaped sunglasses balanced just perfectly on her tiny nose.“Is this the tallest building in New York?” she asked, tilting her head dramatically.“No,” Asher replied with a grin, “but it’s one of the most important ones.”“Because it’s yours?”“Exactly.”She beamed, chin lifting as if she’d just inherited her own skyscraper.He couldn’t help but admire her confidence. Every ounce of her radiated curiosity and attitude, the perfect blend of Vera’s quiet steel and something mischief, born straight from him.She had dressed herself that morning while Vera was still out, fluffy pink tulle skirt, glittery backpack, and a buttoned pink blazer she had insisted was “office professional.”“I’m ready to take notes,” she declared earlier, stuffing crayons into the side pock
There was something painfully familiar in the shape of his mouth. In the posture. In the eyes that flickered toward her with something like restraint. Like regret.Bell cleared his throat. “Miss Sterling… this is Mr. Julian Renner. Executor of your mother’s final estate matters. And your… uncle.”Vera’s blood ran cold.“What?” she breathed.Julian took a seat across from her, folding his hands calmly. “Elena and I were estranged for most of our adult lives. But I was present at the end.”Vera stared. “I’ve never heard of you.”“I didn’t want to be found,” he said smoothly. “Your mother and I had a… complicated history. She respected that. But in the last weeks of her life, she called me. Asked me to be here when this day came.”The words slammed into Vera like a weight.Eliza finally spoke again, voice softer. “He’s telling the truth. Elena didn’t talk about him. But she trusted him when the time came.”Vera sat back, the air in the room suddenly thinner.What else hadn’t she known?W
Tuesday morning crept in quietly, dressed in soft clouds and a chill that hinted it might rain later.Vera stood in front of the full length mirror in Asher’s penthouse, adjusting the lapel of her charcoal blazer. Her fingers moved slowly, precisely, like she could will away the nerves building beneath her skin with every press and tug.Eira’s laughter echoed faintly from the living room.She smiled at the sound, soft, distracted.Asher was with her, as promised. He was entertaining their daughter with some over the top cartoon antics and the occasional dramatic yelp of defeat whenever she “won” at her puzzle game.It had been her idea to leave Eira with him today. And her choice alone.Because this wasn’t a day for children.It wasn’t even really a day for smiles.Today, she would read the will of her late mother, Elena Sterling, the woman who had given her life, then disappeared, then died without Vera ever getting the chance to spend time with her.Vera let out a long breath.Six y
Sarah smirked. “I think reminding her of who she used to be will make her question who she wants to become.”That made him pause.He didn’t want to admit it, but part of him had wondered the same thing.Vera had changed.She was sharper now. More guarded. More powerful.The same softness he loved in her now came with barbed edges.Maybe Sarah had a point.Maybe playing protector was no longer enough.“Let’s say I believe you,” he said. “What do you get out of this? Revenge? Closure?”Sarah tilted her head again. “I get Asher back.”Dorian gave a sardonic smile. “You’ll never get him the way you want him.”She shrugged. “Maybe. But if I can’t have him, I’ll still make sure she doesn’t either.”The honesty was jarring.She didn’t flinch. Didn’t lie.He appreciated that more than he wanted to admit.She picked up her coffee again. “So. What’ll it be, Fontaine? We walk away pretending this was just a sad therapy session… or we stop playing polite and actually do something?”He stared at h
SarahShe’d always loved the view from Le Jardin’s private patio, secluded yet central, with white iron wrought furniture and ivy covered trellises that made the place look like a secret garden for billionaires.But today, the view got a little better.Her champagne flute paused midway to her lips the second she saw him.Dorian Fontaine.And God help her, he was finer than the polished magazine covers had ever done justice.The photos always painted him as cold. Controlled. Almost statuesque. But in real life?There was heat.He walked like power was his second skin, crisp navy slacks, charcoal shirt rolled at the forearms, dark sunglasses that cut across his face like sin. His stride was slow, unhurried, every step screaming that he owned the ground beneath him.Sarah’s breath caught before she could stop it.She was ogling.Actually ogling.She quickly adjusted her posture, sipped her champagne with the ease of a woman unbothered, and let her designer sunglasses shield her gaze.But
Dorian Fontaine had always been a patient man.Calculated. Measured.Even when it hurt.Even when the woman he loved walked into another man’s arms with the child he’d helped raise calling that man Daddy.He stared out the thirty eighth floor window of his New York office, the city sprawling out like a challenge. Below, the world moved in unaware loops, stock traders, fashion editors, trust fund kids on overpriced iced lattes.Everyone had a role to play.He used to know his.The protector. The provider. The quiet man with the powerful name and the steady hands.But now?Now he wasn’t sure what role was left.His assistant had briefed him on Vera’s whereabouts: staying in the Donovan penthouse with both Asher and Eira. A family reunion framed in gold and fairy lights.And the photo… God, that photo.It hadn’t just lit up the internet.It had detonated something inside him.He’d tried to push it down. Had even stepped into a meeting to distract himself.But then his phone vibrated agai