The city lights stretched endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Adrian’s penthouse, casting long shadows across the sleek marble floors. Bella stood near the glass, arms wrapped around herself, watching the world move beneath her. From this high up, everything looked so small, so distant—like the problems she wished she could run from. But there was no running. Adrian sat on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze never leaving her. The tension between them was thick, palpable, as if the air itself carried the weight of unsaid words. He had been silent since she walked through the door, letting her take her time, but she knew he was barely holding himself together. Finally, he broke the silence. "You’re still thinking about leaving, aren’t you?" Bella turned slightly, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her sweater. "I don’t know what I’m thinking anymore." He exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. "I can’t change the past, B
Bella’s heels echoed against the polished marble floors of her apartment lobby as she made her way inside. The night air outside had done little to cool the storm raging in her mind, and even as she stepped into the quiet of her home, she couldn’t shake the weight of Adrian’s words. *"I love you, Bella."* She had wanted to hear it for so long, but not like that—not as a desperate attempt to keep her from leaving. She didn’t doubt that he meant it. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was everything else. Sighing, she kicked off her shoes and walked into the living room, dropping her bag on the couch. The city lights spilled through the windows, casting a dim glow over the space. It felt too big, too empty. She had spent the past few days convincing herself that space was what she needed. Distance. Time to think. But all it had done was make her feel lonelier. A knock at the door startled her. Her stomach twisted. For half a second, she thought—hoped—it was Adrian. But she
Oliver paced outside Diana’s apartment, hands in his pockets, his heart hammering like he’d just run a marathon. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t some nervous teenager. He was Oliver Langston—confident, charming, with a natural ability to make people laugh. He had faced down press scandals, multimillion-dollar business deals, and Monica’s entire network of corruption. And yet, here he was, hesitating to knock on the door of the woman he had been in love with for years. Diana. He had always known she was different. Sharp, unrelenting, impossibly beautiful—but also infuriating, stubborn, and absolutely convinced he was nothing but a playboy. And sure, maybe he had leaned into that image a little too much over the years. Maybe it was easier for her to see him as a joke rather than someone who could actually be serious. But that needed to change. Tonight. Taking a deep breath, Oliver finally knocked. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing Diana in a loose sweater and l
Diana sat on her couch long after Oliver had left, staring at the door as if it would somehow give her the answers she was looking for.Her heart was still racing.Oliver had just confessed to *liking* her. Oliver—Langston, the man who flirted with waitresses, joked his way out of trouble, and never took anything seriously. The man she had spent years rolling her eyes at, dismissing as nothing more than a charming disaster.But tonight?Tonight, he hadn’t been a joke.Tonight, Oliver had looked at her with a quiet kind of certainty, the kind that left no room for doubt.And that terrified her.Diana exhaled sharply and leaned back against the couch, rubbing her temples.She wasn’t some wide-eyed girl looking for romance. She had seen what love could do to people—how it made them vulnerable, how it *ruined* them when it fell apart. Her mother had fallen apart when her father left, and Diana had sworn she would never let herself be in that position.But Oliver wasn’t just *anyone.* He w
**Bella’s POV**The warmth of the morning sun streamed across the kitchen table, golden rays spilling through the tall windows of Adrian’s penthouse. I watched as steam rose from my tea, curling in the air like whispers of the thoughts I couldn't quite silence.Even though Monica was behind bars, even though her networks were unraveling piece by piece, it still felt like we were holding our breath.The calm after a storm wasn’t always peaceful. Sometimes, it was eerily quiet—like the world was waiting for something else to go wrong.Adrian stood by the stove, sleeves rolled to his elbows, flipping pancakes like a seasoned pro. It was such a domestic sight that I almost laughed. The man who once ran international meetings from helicopters now took pride in making breakfast from scratch.He glanced over his shoulder, catching my gaze. “You’re staring again.”I shrugged, sipping my tea. “It’s not every day I see you act like a responsible adult.”He smirked, placing a stack of fluffy pan
The courthouse was buzzing, reporters clustered outside the heavy wooden doors like moths to flame. Cameras flashed, microphones extended toward anyone who even looked like they had something to say. But inside the Langston Enterprise boardroom-turned-war room, silence reigned.Adrian stood by the window, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the chaos on the news screen. The live broadcast showed Monica being escorted into the courthouse, her expression unreadable behind large sunglasses and an expensive blazer that screamed defiance.Bella sat on the couch, her laptop open in front of her, though she hadn't typed anything for the past ten minutes. She was watching Adrian instead—studying the sharp cut of his jaw, the way tension rolled through his body like waves. He’d barely spoken that morning, save for the briefest exchange over coffee.The past few weeks had been war.But they’d finally won.The evidence Bella had uncovered—along with Oliver’s unexpected yet brilliant te
**Third Person POV**The Langston estate had quieted down in recent weeks, its halls no longer echoing with the tension of crisis and whispered strategy meetings. With Monica finally behind bars and the tech empire stable once again, the family could breathe — for the first time in a long time. But even in the stillness, something stirred beneath the surface. Something gentler. More complicated.Oliver Langston leaned against the marble island in the family’s secondary kitchen — the cozier one, tucked away from the grandeur of the main space. A slice of lemon cake dangled between his fingers, and crumbs dusted the front of his faded jeans. His hair was a little too wild, his shirt a little too wrinkled, and his grin — as usual — far too smug.Across from him, Diana Monroe sat with perfect posture, her silk blouse tucked into a pencil skirt, not a hair out of place. She stirred her tea quietly, eyes fixed on the amber swirls dancing in her cup.“You know,” Oliver began, “I’ve noticed y
The following days at the Langston estate were painted in warm hues of laughter, quiet conversations, and subtle glances. Life was finding its rhythm again. But for Oliver and Diana, everything suddenly felt… different.Not uncomfortable. Not rushed. Just different — like stepping into a space they hadn’t dared explore for too long.Oliver strolled into the conservatory early that afternoon, where golden light filtered through high arched windows and bathed the lush plants in a soft, romantic glow. The room smelled faintly of lavender and citrus from the fresh blossoms along the edges, and a gentle classical piece drifted through the air from the antique speakers tucked between the ferns.And there she was.Diana Monroe.Sitting on the tufted bench in the corner, an open legal folder on her lap, her glasses perched delicately on her nose. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a low bun, and she wore a simple, elegant cream dress that hugged her figure like it had been tailored with her
After everything that had happened over the last few weeks—the tension, the danger, the revelations—Adrian and Bella both needed a break. The office was no longer a sanctuary, not with all the lingering uncertainty. And so, Adrian finally made the suggestion: "Let’s go to the estate this weekend. Just you and me. We need a change of scenery."Bella had agreed, not because she needed convincing but because she too was yearning for a bit of peace. Still, there was something she couldn’t shake off. She had invited Grace to join them. Her younger sister had been a source of lightness in the midst of all the darkness. Besides, Grace had a way of cutting through the tension and making everything feel less complicated.When they arrived at the Langston estate, Bella couldn’t help but marvel at the sprawling grounds. The estate was nestled on the outskirts of the city, hidden from prying eyes. From the moment the gates opened, it was clear how expansive the property was—lush gardens, manicure
Langston Enterprises was quieter than usual, but not because the tension had faded. In fact, it was just the opposite.The air practically buzzed with anticipation.Everyone was pretending everything was normal. The departments operated as usual. Meetings were scheduled, presentations were given, and the coffee machine ran nonstop. But beneath the surface, a silent war was brewing—one that only a select few were aware of.Marcus Whitmore was the target. And the bait had been perfectly set.Adrian stood in his office, arms crossed, watching the monitors mounted discreetly in a corner of his private conference room. Each screen displayed live feeds from strategically placed cameras in the server wing of the company—the very place Marcus would try to breach.Bella entered the room, her heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor. She wore an all-black fitted pantsuit, sleek and commanding. A sharp contrast from her usual soft colors—but it matched the mood perfectly. Her laptop was
Third Person POV**The storm had passed—at least, on the outside. Langston Enterprises was back to its usual hum the following day, but beneath the polished exterior, tension brewed.Adrian sat at the head of the strategy table, a silent figure of control and restraint. His dark suit was sharp, as always, and his face gave nothing away. On the surface, the meeting was about logistics—but Adrian’s thoughts were elsewhere.Lucas had requested a private word.And that wasn’t something Adrian could easily ignore.After the board had dispersed, and Bella left for a scheduled call, Lucas stepped back into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. The silence hung between them until Adrian leaned back, arms folded across his chest.“Let me guess,” Adrian said dryly. “You’re here to deliver more shade during someone else’s presentation?”Lucas smirked faintly. “You always did hate surprises.”Adrian’s expression didn’t change. “Start talking.”Lucas exhaled, stepping toward the glass wal
Third Person POV**Langston Enterprises buzzed with the mid-morning hum of productivity. The sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long, sharp shadows across the polished marble floor. Employees bustled around in quiet efficiency, the sound of heels clicking and keyboards tapping creating a low corporate symphony.Bella entered the office that morning feeling refreshed from the double date the night before. Her tailored tan suit and soft cream blouse gave her a professional yet calm appearance, her hair swept into a clean knot. She held a coffee in one hand and a folder tucked under the other arm, already making mental notes about her next pitch meeting with the design and tech teams.She hadn’t taken more than three steps into the executive corridor before she saw him.Lucas.The moment their eyes met, his lips curled into that familiar smug grin that always bordered on condescending. He leaned casually against the wall near the elevator, in a sleek gray suit tha
The boardroom at Langston Enterprises had been filled with the soft clicks of pens, murmured agreements, and the occasional sound of someone shifting in their seat. It was a quarterly strategy update, and though it had started like every other—formal, intense, and immaculately structured—there was something noticeably different in the air.Maybe it was the way Adrian kept subtly glancing at Bella across the table, a faint softness undercutting his usual steel-edged composure. Or perhaps it was how Diana no longer looked like she was suppressing an eye roll every time Oliver made a comment—because now, she actually smiled.As the final slides flicked across the large screen and the meeting drew to a close, Oliver leaned toward Adrian and whispered, “You’re unusually chipper today. Did you take up yoga or something?”Adrian shot him a deadpan look. “I had a good espresso.”“Must’ve been made with love,” Oliver muttered with a teasing grin, nodding toward Bella, who was already packing u
The following days at the Langston estate were painted in warm hues of laughter, quiet conversations, and subtle glances. Life was finding its rhythm again. But for Oliver and Diana, everything suddenly felt… different.Not uncomfortable. Not rushed. Just different — like stepping into a space they hadn’t dared explore for too long.Oliver strolled into the conservatory early that afternoon, where golden light filtered through high arched windows and bathed the lush plants in a soft, romantic glow. The room smelled faintly of lavender and citrus from the fresh blossoms along the edges, and a gentle classical piece drifted through the air from the antique speakers tucked between the ferns.And there she was.Diana Monroe.Sitting on the tufted bench in the corner, an open legal folder on her lap, her glasses perched delicately on her nose. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a low bun, and she wore a simple, elegant cream dress that hugged her figure like it had been tailored with her
**Third Person POV**The Langston estate had quieted down in recent weeks, its halls no longer echoing with the tension of crisis and whispered strategy meetings. With Monica finally behind bars and the tech empire stable once again, the family could breathe — for the first time in a long time. But even in the stillness, something stirred beneath the surface. Something gentler. More complicated.Oliver Langston leaned against the marble island in the family’s secondary kitchen — the cozier one, tucked away from the grandeur of the main space. A slice of lemon cake dangled between his fingers, and crumbs dusted the front of his faded jeans. His hair was a little too wild, his shirt a little too wrinkled, and his grin — as usual — far too smug.Across from him, Diana Monroe sat with perfect posture, her silk blouse tucked into a pencil skirt, not a hair out of place. She stirred her tea quietly, eyes fixed on the amber swirls dancing in her cup.“You know,” Oliver began, “I’ve noticed y
The courthouse was buzzing, reporters clustered outside the heavy wooden doors like moths to flame. Cameras flashed, microphones extended toward anyone who even looked like they had something to say. But inside the Langston Enterprise boardroom-turned-war room, silence reigned.Adrian stood by the window, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the chaos on the news screen. The live broadcast showed Monica being escorted into the courthouse, her expression unreadable behind large sunglasses and an expensive blazer that screamed defiance.Bella sat on the couch, her laptop open in front of her, though she hadn't typed anything for the past ten minutes. She was watching Adrian instead—studying the sharp cut of his jaw, the way tension rolled through his body like waves. He’d barely spoken that morning, save for the briefest exchange over coffee.The past few weeks had been war.But they’d finally won.The evidence Bella had uncovered—along with Oliver’s unexpected yet brilliant te
**Bella’s POV**The warmth of the morning sun streamed across the kitchen table, golden rays spilling through the tall windows of Adrian’s penthouse. I watched as steam rose from my tea, curling in the air like whispers of the thoughts I couldn't quite silence.Even though Monica was behind bars, even though her networks were unraveling piece by piece, it still felt like we were holding our breath.The calm after a storm wasn’t always peaceful. Sometimes, it was eerily quiet—like the world was waiting for something else to go wrong.Adrian stood by the stove, sleeves rolled to his elbows, flipping pancakes like a seasoned pro. It was such a domestic sight that I almost laughed. The man who once ran international meetings from helicopters now took pride in making breakfast from scratch.He glanced over his shoulder, catching my gaze. “You’re staring again.”I shrugged, sipping my tea. “It’s not every day I see you act like a responsible adult.”He smirked, placing a stack of fluffy pan