LOGINCARL stared at the phone for a second. The screen kept lighting up, ringing. The caller persistent. Alessia stood beside him in the hallway, watching quietly, but not asking questions, not leaning in, not trying to see the name. She simply smiled faintly and tilted her head. “Aren’t you going to take that?” Carl glanced at her, then calmly pressed his phone silent, ignoring the call. The ringing sound stopped, but the phone kept buzzing. “No,” he said easily. “Nothing important.” Alessia raised a brow. “Nothing important?” He nodded, hands sliding into his pockets. “Nothing as important as standing here talking to you.” She let out a soft laugh. “That sounds suspiciously smooth, Mr. Orion.” “I am a very smooth man.” “Debatable.” He placed a hand dramatically on his chest. “You wound me.” She laughed again, shaking her head. “But seriously,” she said, “what if it’s work? Something from any of your company?” Carl sighed like a man carrying the world.
MAISON stood by the door, tall and commanding, his presence alone enough to silence the room. His deep voice had cut through the warmth between mother and daughter like a blade.“I knew he was going to treat you that way.”Silence fell, heavy and tensed.Alessia slowly turned from where she stood beside her mother, her eyes faintly red from tears, confusion written all over her face.Her lips parted.“Dad? You… knew?”Sarah turned too, her brows pulling together.“Maison… what do you mean you knew?”Maison sighed heavily and walked further into the room, his sturdy frame carrying the kind of authority only years of power could build. In that suit of his, he looked like a man who ruled boardrooms with a single glance.He sat down slowly on the couch opposite them.“Yes,” he said. “I knew.”Alessia stared at him.“How?”Maison looked at her for a long moment before speaking.“Because I knew Damien’s father.”That made her freeze.Sarah folded her arms.“Cross?”Maison nodded once.“Yes.
DINNER had long ended.The laughter had softened into smaller conversations, and the grand warmth of the evening had settled into something quieter, more intimate.A few relatives had already left after endless hugs and promises to visit again.Some remained outside in the garden, lounging beneath the evening lights, wine glasses in hand, enjoying the cool breeze and the luxury of family gossip.Inside the Laurent mansion, peace lingered.But behind that peace, important conversations were happening.…Mr. Laurent’s Study…Maison Laurent sat behind his massive mahogany desk, one hand resting against his chin, the other holding a glass of aged whiskey he had barely touched.Across from him sat Carl Orion.Relaxed and composed as ever.His grey suit jacket rested perfectly on him, his posture calm but sharp.The room itself felt like power.Old bookshelves, leather chairs, awards, company plaques, generations of success framed against polished walls.This was where decisions were made.A
THE entire room had gone still.The joy, the laughter, the tears. Everything paused the moment that deep voice broke through the air.Someone had cleared his throat. And slowly, everyone had turned.There he stood.Mr. Laurent.Maison Laurent himself.Intimidately tall, broad-shouldered and sharp. A man built like authority. Even age had not softened him— it had only made him more intimidating.His presence alone could silence a room. His neatly tailored dark suit sat perfectly on him, every line precise, every movement controlled. His silver-streaked hair was combed back cleanly, his jaw firm, his eyes sharp enough to strip excuses before they were spoken.He looked like the kind of man who had built empires with one hand and buried competitors with the other.And he was looking directly at her.Alessia’s throat tightened, her fingers slowly curled. She had imagined this moment a thousand times.In some versions, he shouted.In others, he turned and walked away.In the worst ones, he
THE black Maybach rolled smoothly into the wide driveway of Carl Orion’s mansion and stopped. Silence followed. Then the rear door clicked open. A long, perfectly manicured leg stepped out first, in a carefully slow, deliberate and confident grace. Raven Lux didn’t rush, because she never did. She straightened up fully, letting the city breeze catch her long braids that were styled into a sleek, expensive ponytail, edges laid sharp enough to look like they had their own PR team. Her outfit screamed without trying: a cropped designer jacket in metallic silver, oversized sleeves pushed slightly up her forearms, layered over a fitted black bodysuit that hugged her waist perfectly. Matching high-waisted leather pants, glossy boots that clicked even when she wasn’t moving. Chains glinted at her neck. Hoop earrings caught the sunlight. Her nails were long and sharp, polished like glass. A pop star. A rapper. A walking headline. She leaned against the open door of the ca
THE black Rolls-Royce glided smoothly through the tall iron gates and into the familiar compound.Alessia sat still in the backseat, her fingers resting tightly on her purse. Her heart was beating too fast, too loud.Carl noticed, but he didn’t say anything. He simply sat beside her, calm as always, letting her breathe through it.The car slowed to a stop in front of the mansion.For a second, nobody moved.Then the chauffeur stepped out, walked around, and opened the back door. Cool afternoon air rushed in.Carl stepped out first, then turned and offered his hand. Alessia stared at it for a moment, then she placed hers in his and stepped out.The moment her heels touched the ground, she froze. Her eyes slowly lifted.Home. After four years… home.She took one long look around.The mansion stood exactly as she remembered— grand, elegant, proud.Still intimidating, still beautiful.But there were changes.The east wing had been renovated. The old marble fountain had been replaced with







