A Fight For Love

Alec

There were two kinds of masks: the kind you wore to protect yourself—and the kind you wore so long, they started wearing you.

Alec knew which one he was dealing with now.

The boardroom of Lexden Holdings gleamed like a mirror—reflecting power, ambition, and bloodless smiles. Zara stood beside him, wearing her signature leather jacket over a sleek black dress she’d whipped together in a day. Her hair was pulled back, curls untamed, and she radiated defiance like it was a second skin.

Twelve executives sat around the table. All of them knew Alec. None of them knew her.

And that was exactly how he wanted it—for now.

“Miss Zara Monroe will be spearheading our new venture in the fashion and design arm,” Alec said, his voice measured. “I’ll be backing the label, but she retains full creative control.”

A man with silver hair—Quentin Dunn, COO—cleared his throat. “With respect, Mr. Black, we weren’t informed of this shift in strategy.”

“Because it’s not up for discussion.”

Zara didn’t flinch, but Alec could feel her tension under the surface. The room was full of wolves, and they could smell hesitation like blood.

“I trust Miss Monroe will deliver results,” Alec continued. “And if not, you can come to me.”

Quentin offered a tight smile. “Of course. Welcome aboard, Miss Monroe.”

Zara nodded once, cool and unreadable.

When the meeting ended, Alec guided her out with a hand at her back. The moment the doors closed, she turned on him.

“You didn’t tell me they’d try to eat me alive.”

“They didn’t. You held your own.”

“They stared at me like I didn’t belong.”

“Because they’re not used to women who don’t beg or bend.”

Her eyes met his. “Is that what you like about me?”

“Among other things.”

Her lips curved. “You’re not getting an itemized list, Black.”

He grinned, but the tension behind his smile didn’t fade.

Because as they walked through his empire—glass walls, silent staff, the weight of everything he’d built—he knew exactly what was lurking underneath. And it wasn’t just Zara’s skepticism.

It was the ghost of a mistake that refused to stay buried.

⸻

Zara

Zara’s head spun as they stepped into the elevator.

Not because she wasn’t used to pressure—she’d dealt with rent collectors, fashion gatekeepers, and the kind of backroom politics that would eat most people alive. But this?

This was another level.

She looked at Alec.

The way he moved through this world, like gravity bent around him. Commanding without effort. Dangerous without trying.

And yet… he looked at her like she was the one in control.

That scared her more than anything.

“What now?” she asked as the elevator doors opened.

He led her into a private office. This one was smaller—sleek, but less intimidating. There was a moodboard already pinned up on the side wall, fabric samples neatly placed in trays, and three dress forms lined up like soldiers waiting for command.

“I had them prep this yesterday,” Alec said. “Your temporary headquarters until we find something more permanent.”

Her throat tightened.

“You really did all this.”

“I told you. I’m all in.”

She turned to him slowly. “And what happens when you change your mind?”

“I don’t.”

“You did with your name. Your job. Your story.”

He didn’t flinch. “That wasn’t about you. That was about survival.”

She studied him. “You’ve got a past, Alec. So do I. The difference is, I don’t pretend mine doesn’t exist.”

“And what would you like to know?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Everything.”

Alec’s jaw worked, but then he nodded.

“My real name is Alec Sebastian Black. My father built the initial fortune through real estate. I expanded it into law, security, and tech. The ‘Maddox’ persona? I used that when I wanted to operate without the spotlight. Without the legacy.”

“Why hide it?”

“Because most people fall in love with the fortune. Or the façade.”

“And me?”

“You threw water on me. And called me a fraud to my face.”

Zara’s lips twitched. “Romantic, huh?”

“The most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

She laughed, a short burst that eased some of the tension in her chest.

But then the smile faded.

“Who’s Marissa?” she asked.

He stiffened.

“She’s part of the past I’m trying to forget.”

“Former girlfriend?”

“Former fiancée.”

Zara blinked. “Fiancée?”

He sighed. “It was arranged. A merger more than a marriage. I didn’t love her. She didn’t love me. But we made each other look good. Until she found someone wealthier—and left.”

“Then why was she at the restaurant?”

“Because she found out I was seeing someone new.”

“And?”

“She doesn’t like losing.”

Zara’s stomach turned. “Is she dangerous?”

Alec didn’t answer.

And that was answer enough.

⸻

That night, Zara worked in the temporary office until her hands cramped. Sketching, cutting, rearranging the moodboard Alec’s team had set up for her. But her heart wasn’t in it.

Something felt off.

She checked her phone. No new messages. No missed calls.

But her gut twisted.

She stepped into the hallway and glanced around.

The office was quiet. Too quiet.

Her heels echoed as she moved toward the elevator. She pressed the button. Waited.

Ding.

The doors opened—and someone was already inside.

Tall. Sharp suit. Face like carved ice.

Not Alec.

“Wrong floor,” she muttered, stepping back.

But the man stepped forward.

“Miss Monroe, is it?”

Her spine straightened. “Who’s asking?”

“I work with Marissa. And I have a message.”

Zara didn’t blink. “She could’ve sent a text.”

“She wanted to ensure you understood the consequences of continuing this… arrangement.”

He handed her a folder.

Then left without another word.

Zara stared at it, cold washing down her spine.

She opened it slowly.

Inside were photographs.

Of her.

At the studio. At home. At dinner with Alec. On the subway.

And one of her younger brother, Miles, getting out of school.

Her stomach dropped.

Her phone rang.

Alec.

She answered with a choked breath. “Someone followed me.”

“Where are you?”

“Your office. He gave me photos. Of my brother.”

“I’m coming now. Stay inside. Lock the doors.”

She hung up, knees shaking.

She didn’t cry. Not then.

But when Alec stormed in fifteen minutes later, eyes dark with fury, she collapsed into his arms.

“I thought this world couldn’t touch me,” she whispered. “I thought as long as I stayed small, stayed unseen, I’d be safe.”

He held her tighter. “You’re not small. And you’re not alone.”

“I can’t let them hurt him.”

“They won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

He pulled back, his voice like steel. “I do. Because I’m going to war for you, Zara. With everything I’ve got.”