LOGINRain poured over the city in silver sheets. Black luxury SUVs cut through the storm like predators moving through darkness.
One after another.
Six identical vehicles.
Tinted windows.
Armed escorts.
Men with guns.
The reunion venue, a grand hotel rented by Saint Augustine Academy, glowed brightly beneath the stormy sky, filled with soft music, champagne-fueled laughter, and middle-aged alumni pretending life had turned out exactly how they dreamed.
Inside the ballroom, people mingled nervously beneath chandeliers.
Old classmates reunited. Teachers laughed too loudly. Business cards exchanged hands. Women compared jewelry.
Men compared success. Normal people. Normal lives.
The hotel entrance suddenly swung open.
And silence swallowed the room whole.
The first thing they saw was the bodyguards. Massive men in black suits entering with military precision.
Then came the brothers.
Lucien stepped in first, hands in his pockets, expensive black suit fitting him like sin itself. Tattoos disappeared beneath rolled sleeves while his cold gaze swept lazily across the room.
Victor followed beside him with a mocking smile already on his face.
Damian entered next, towering and terrifying, his mere presence enough to make several people physically step backward.
Roman walked in calmly while adjusting his gloves, looking less like a businessman and more like a man who ordered executions before breakfast.
And finally,
Aiden Moretti entered.
The kingpin.
The room froze.
Actually froze.
Wine glasses stopped midair. Conversations died instantly. Someone dropped a champagne flute. The sound shattered through the silence.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Every single person in that ballroom now knew exactly who the Moretti brothers were.
Not rich heirs anymore.
Not violent teenagers.
Not spoiled boys.
No.
These were the men whispered about in newspapers and political circles. The underworld kings. The monsters behind disappearing politicians, burned companies, vanished rivals, and bodies that were never found.
People feared saying their names too loudly. And now those same devils stood inside a harmless high school reunion.
Victor looked around slowly.
Then burst out laughing.
"Oh my God," he mocked loudly. "They still look terrified."
Damian smirked darkly.
"Just like high school."
A teacher near the stage visibly paled.
Lucien noticed immediately.
"Look," he said amusedly. "Mr. Laurent still shakes when he sees us."
The old teacher stiffened instantly. His face lost all color.
Back in high school, Mr. Laurent once caught Damian beating another student unconscious behind the gym.
The next day Mr. Laurent apologized to them.
Not because they were innocent.
Because he was scared.
Roman tilted his head slightly.
"He aged horribly."
Victor grinned wickedly.
"Fear does that."
People immediately looked away when the brothers' eyes moved across the room. No one dared approach first. No one even knew what expression to make.
Shock?
Fear?
Respect?
One woman whispered shakily to her husband.
"Oh my God... that's Aiden Moretti..."
Her husband grabbed her arm immediately.
"Don't stare."
Aiden heard it.
Of course he did.
His lips curled slightly.
Power looked good on him.
The principal hurried forward nervously, nearly tripping over himself.
"M-Mr. Moretti," he stammered. "What an honor..."
Victor snorted.
"Honor?"
Lucien laughed.
"You used to suspend us every week."
The principal forced a weak laugh.
"Teenage boys are difficult sometimes..."
Damian stepped closer slowly. The principal immediately stopped breathing properly.
"But you never suspended us permanently," Damian said softly.
The older man swallowed hard. Because everyone knew why.
Money.
Influence.
Fear.
Even back then, the Moretti family had influence over judges, police officers, and politicians. The school had never been braved enough to touch them.
Aiden casually removed his gloves.
"We're not here for speeches."
The principal nodded immediately.
"O-Of course."
Roman's eyes slowly scanned the ballroom.
Searching.
Calculating.
Then he frowned slightly.
"She's not here."
Victor clicked his tongue.
"What a disappointment."
Lucien grabbed a champagne glass from a passing waiter.
"She gets invited and didn't even show up?"
Aiden remained expressionless. But his gaze sharpened subtly. The ballroom was decorated with framed photographs from different graduating years.
Old sports victories.
Dance committees.
Academic achievements.
Happy memories.
The brothers moved through the room slowly like wolves among sheep. People parted instantly to let them pass. Nobody wanted to be near them.
Several former classmates lowered their heads completely. It was as if making eye contact was dangerous. Victor laughed under his breath.
"They're still prey animals."
Damian smirked.
"Pathetic."
One former student finally forced himself to approach.
"N-Nice seeing you again, Aiden."
The man's voice shook visibly.
Aiden stared at him blankly for several seconds.
"What's your name?"
The man froze in humiliation.
Victor almost burst into laughter. "Oh, that's brutal."
"I—I was in your economics class..."
Aiden looked uninterested already.
Roman answered instead.
"Daniel Mercer."
The man looked shocked, Roman remembered.
Roman didn't smile.
"You cried after Lucien broke your nose."
Daniel immediately backed away.
The brothers laughed quietly. Cruelly. Because humiliation entertained them.
Always had.
As they continued walking, their eyes landed on one specific wall. Senior Year Memories. A collection of class photos. The brothers stopped. And for the first time that night, the amusement faded slightly. Because Isabella was there.
Frozen forever in a photograph.
Young.
Soft-faced.
Standing in the middle row with books hugged against her chest. A tiny smile on her lips.
Lucien stared at the picture.
"She looked so innocent."
Victor smirked.
"She was innocent."
Damian scoffed.
"That was the problem."
Aiden's eyes remained fixed on the photograph.
Isabella in the picture looked nothing like the women surrounding powerful men now.
No diamonds.
No arrogance.
No hunger for status.
Just warmth.
Simple warmth.
Roman suddenly noticed something strange.
"That's the only picture."
Silence.
Victor blinked.
"What?"
Roman gestured around the wall.
Every student had multiple photographs displayed.
Sports.
Clubs.
Graduation ceremonies.
Friend groups.
But Isabella,
Only one.
One single class photo.
Nothing else.
Lucien frowned slightly.
"That's odd."
Then someone nearby muttered nervously—
"Well... after the breakup..."
The brothers turned instantly.
A woman stood frozen beside them. Their former classmate.
Terrified, she spoke aloud.
Aiden's gaze locked onto her.
"What about after the breakup?"
The woman swallowed hard.
Nobody spoke.
The entire nearby group became tense immediately.
Victor smiled slowly. Dangerously.
"Answer him."
The woman looked visibly frightened now.
"She... um..."
Damian stepped forward.
And the entire room became colder.
"She what?"
The woman's hands trembled.
"She stopped coming to events."
Silence.
Another classmate finally whispered,
"People bullied her badly."
Lucien's expression hardened faintly. The man continued shakily.
"After you left her..."
Nobody breathed; the room understood instantly that this was dangerous territory. But the man kept talking anyway.
"People said horrible things. Called her delusional for thinking she could date Aiden Moretti seriously."
Another voice joined quietly.
"Girls were jealous of her."
"One teacher leaked private rumors."
"Parents told their kids not to associate with her anymore."
"She used to eat lunch alone."
Victor's mocking smile faded slightly.
The room stayed silent except for rain hitting the windows.
Aiden's expression remained unreadable. But something dark shifted behind his eyes.
The woman whispered softly, "She disappeared before graduation ended."
No one knew why those words made the room suddenly feel heavier.
Lucien looked back at Isabella's photograph.
Still smiling softly in that picture. Still looking at the camera with gentle eyes. Like none of it had happened yet.
Victor clicked his tongue irritably.
"She should've fought back."
Roman answered coldly.
"She was never built for cruelty."
Damian scoffed.
"Then she was weak."
But the word didn't sound as confident this time.
Aiden said nothing.
His gaze stayed fixed on Isabella's face in the photograph.
Young.
Trusting.
Breakable.
But what's done is done; weak people can never survive.
They sat on the table in the middle of the room, and the gathering continued, or at least people tried.
Then suddenly,
The ballroom doors opened.
Every head turned instantly.
Cold wind swept inside.
And someone walked in.
The meeting was not held at Bee Headquarters. It was held in one of the private conference suites owned by the brothers. The location itself carried a reputation.People entered confidently; they rarely left feeling the same. Outside the building, security was almost invisible. Inside, everything was controlled.Every corridor.Every camera.Every entrance.Nothing happened without the brothers knowing.An hour after the board meeting, a black sedan stopped outside the building. Mr. Gideon Graves stepped out first.Chairman of Graves Holdings. He owned what remained of his family's once-prominent business empire.As a five percent shareholder in Bee, behind him walked his daughter.Jenny Graves.She had barely spoken since leaving Bee; her confidence from that morning had disappeared completely.As they entered the private elevator, she whispered, "Dad..."He didn't look at her. "What exactly did you say?"Jenny lowered her head. "I...""What exactly?"She swallowed. "I argued with Mi
The door to Isabella's office closed softly behind her.Click.Then, another clicks. She turned the lock. She did not turn the lock because she was afraid someone would enter. Because, for a few minutes, she would rather not be Bee.The office became silent. The sounds of Bee Headquarters faded beyond the thick glass walls. Phones rang somewhere outside.Employees laughed in distant corridors.Meetings continued.The world kept moving.Inside...Time slowed.Isabella stood perfectly still; her shoulders, so straight during the meeting, lowered ever so slightly.She closed her eyes; a slow breath entered her lungs.Then another.She whispered to the empty room. "How could I become weak?"Her voice was barely audible.She laughed once; it wasn't a happy laugh. It sounded disappointed."Why..." She looked towards the ceiling. "...why did I say all that?"She pressed her fingers lightly against her forehead. "I have dealt with people like Jenny for years."Another quiet laugh."Rich kids
The meeting was over. One by one, the department heads collected their folders. The marketing team discussed launch dates. Finance exchanged a few final remarks.The design department looked like they were on fire, already talking about revisions based on the morning's discussion.There was a quiet sense of accomplishment in the room. The budget had been approved. The launch strategy was finalized.The disagreements resolved. It had been a productive meeting. As executives filed out of the conference room, many paused briefly near Isabella."Good presentation, Miss Bela.""Thanks.""The new campaign is great.""I am happy to receive all your feedback.""The adjustments made everything even stronger.""I appreciate the feedback."Every conversation was brief.Professional.Respectful.She thanked each person individually. Not because she had to. This was simply her leadership style.Even several shareholders who had remained skeptical before the meeting now approached her with genuine
Jenny watched quietly. She hadn't spoken again. Not once. Her eyes rarely left Isabella. Almost as though she were seeing her for the first time.Isabella was the woman she had tried to provoke. Hadn't sought revenge. She hadn't humiliated Jenny in front of the board.She hadn't used her authority to silence anyone. Instead, she had simply returned to leading the meeting.Gracefully.Near the back of the room two senior executives quietly exchanged whispers while everyone focused on the presentation. The first man adjusted his glasses. "Do you see it?"The woman beside him nodded. "The difference?"He looked toward Isabella. "Exactly."Then toward Jenny. "You can see two entirely different mindsets in the same room."She followed his gaze. "One remains a little girl who throws tantrums whenever she doesn't get her way." He nodded. "And the other..." He looked back toward Isabella. "...is a woman.""A woman who explains everything with patience." The woman smiled faintly. "Who accepts
The conference room remained utterly silent. No one reached for a notebook. No one whispered. Even the screens showing the remote attendees seemed frozen.Jenny stood exactly where she had been, her confident expression gone. Across from her, Isabella remained perfectly composed.Her posture hadn't changed; her breathing was steady. Her face carried the same calm professionalism she wore into every board meeting.Only her eyes were different.They were no longer warm. They were simply...Unreadable.She looked at Jenny for another long moment before speaking. Her voice was quiet. "So, you are finished?"Jenny opened her mouth. Nothing came out.Isabella nodded once. "I thought so."Another silence settled over the room.Then Isabella continued. "Getting jealous of me..." She folded her hands lightly in front of her. "...will never make you successful, honey."The sentence was delivered without mockery, without raising her voice. Almost like a lesson."Success isn't contagious. You don
Isabella spoke calmly. "Thank you all for coming.""This collection has been in development for almost eighteen months. It will launch simultaneously in twenty-two countries."A slide changed.Photographs filled the screen.Families.Different generations.Grandparents.Parents.Children.People laughing around dinner tables.Festival lights.Traditional clothing mixed with modern tailoring.Warm colours.Golden evenings.Quiet moments.No models.Just life.Roman leant forward. "That's beautiful."Isabella continued. "Luxury often focuses on the individual. This collection does the opposite."Another slide.Sketches.Coats.Suits.Dresses.Scarves.Accessories.Each had subtle influences from different cultures but was unmistakably Bee. "Our inspiration..." She walked slowly across the stage. "It isn't fashion; it's belonging."The room listened carefully. "We asked ourselves one question."She looked around. "What does home feel like?"Nobody interrupted. "Some people answer with p
The ballroom had changed.Completely.Earlier, fear belonged to the Moretti brothers. Now attention belonged to Isabella. And the difference was driving them insane.All of them.Aiden stood near the center of the ballroom with one hand in his pocket, whiskey glass resting loosely in the other. His
The ballroom doors opened slowly.Cold wind swept through the golden hall, making the chandeliers tremble faintly overhead.And then,She entered.At first, nobody recognized her. How could they?The woman walking into the reunion looked nothing like the soft, quiet Isabella Vale they remembered.N
Broken diamonds lay upon the black marble floor that reflected the chandelier light. Power, money, control, fear, everything screams inside the penthouse. No one here dares to say a word without permission.Men in black suits stood at every entrance with guns hidden beneath tailored jackets. The ci







