The crisp morning air was charged with purpose as Lilian strode through the glass doors of Drake Group. Her heartbeat was steady, each beat a quiet defiance against the past and a promise to herself: she was reclaiming everything she had lost, no matter who tried to stand in her way. Today, her first day back in her own company, marked the beginning of a journey to restore her grandfather’s legacy—and to honor the second chance life had given her.
But her return wasn’t without a reminder of her unfinished business with Chris. After catching him in his office with Rita, she hadn’t waited long before sending him the incriminating photos she'd taken, along with a clear message: he was to meet her at City Hall tomorrow to finalize their divorce, or those images would see the light of day. True to his nature, he’d been calling incessantly since, but she’d ignored every call. She had no desire to hear his excuses or his pleas. He was about to learn that she was no longer the woman who bent and broke for him.
Lilian’s stomach twisted at the memory of her own company’s downfall—her funds, her resources, all poured into Reliance Group to prop up Chris’s failing enterprise. The decision had left Drake Group vulnerable and near collapse, a crisis worsened by her absence. She’d taken on a symbolic CEO role, pushing aside her leadership duties to focus on a marriage that had never been more than a string of broken promises. But she was done with that now. It’s now time for her to lead again.
The familiar feeling of resolve pulsed through Lilian as she stepped into Drake Group headquarters, her strides firm and her purpose clear. This was her second chance, and nothing—not Chris, not her scheming Uncle George—was going to stand in her way.
The staff gave her courteous nods and startled looks as she moved through the premises. She had relegated herself to a nominal position for the sake of her husband, and it had been a long time since she had assumed a full role at the company. But those days were behind her. She’d allowed herself to fall into the background to save Chris’s company, Reliance Group, at the cost of her own. She couldn’t believe how naive she’d been.
Now, Lilian’s mind flitted to her grandfather. Memories of him felt like warm beams in a cold room, but the ache of regret quickly followed. He had begged her, time and again, to visit him. She remembered the last call she’d missed—she was buying pastries for Chris, tending to his whims while her grandfather had slipped away. She took a steadying breath. She’d carry that sorrow forever, but her rebirth had come with a purpose: to protect her company, honor her grandfather’s legacy, and reclaim her identity.
Once inside her office, she paused, letting the moment wash over her. The air conditioner's soft hum and the subtle aroma of wood polish and leather were all the same. Even though she was at home, there was a weird feeling of unfamiliarity mixed with nostalgia. She had lost so much time. But no more.
The door to her office swung open, and in strode her Uncle George, radiating his usual smug arrogance. Lilian’s pulse quickened as she met his gaze, but she forced herself to maintain a neutral expression.
"Dear niece," George greeted, his voice dripping with forced cheer, "to what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?"
She took a moment to respond, letting the tension hang in the air. George was enthusiastic, but she knew better than to believe it was sincere. He had always looked down on her, just another obstacle to his ambition.
“I’m back, Uncle,” she replied, her voice cool and steady. “I’m resuming my position—fully, this time.”
For a moment, George’s expression faltered. His smile strained, and his eyes sharpened, betraying the shock he tried to mask. He leaned forward slightly, his posture tense. "May I ask why this sudden change of heart?"
Lilian met his gaze with steely resolve. “I’ve been given the green light by my grandfather before he passed. This company is as much my legacy as it is his. I’m here to make sure it thrives.”
George chuckled, the sound bitter and sharp. “You?” he mocked. “I don’t think the business world is in your expertise, my dear. Better to leave that to the big guys like me. You, on the other hand, have a home to tend to. And a husband, if I’m not mistaken.”
A slow, confident smile spread across Lilian’s face. “How did that collaboration with Transdor Group go, Uncle?”
His face tightened at her words. She could tell he was barely holding back an irritated scowl. "I… I'm handling it," he muttered, almost to himself.
“Really? Because from what I’ve gathered, it’s you who’s being handled.” Her voice was soft, almost pitying, as she watched him squirm. She took a step closer, holding his gaze. “Instead of worrying about my choices, maybe you should focus on your own. Consider this a warning—stick to your responsibilities, and I’ll handle mine.”
His nostrils flared, and he shot her a furious glare, his voice a low growl. “Don’t fly so high, niece. Chris will never agree to this. He won’t stand for you coming back.”
A cold satisfaction bloomed in her chest. She allowed a slight smirk to curve her lips. “Good thing I don’t need his permission.”
His brows knitted in confusion, uncertainty flickering across his features. “What do you mean?”
Lilian crossed her arms, her voice calm yet unyielding. “I mean I’m ending my marriage with Chris. He no longer has a say in what I do.”
George's mouth dropped wide, unable to speak. He appeared as though he had just been hit in the stomach. He struggled to put words together and eventually stumbled out of her office, already grabbing his phone and making a desperate call. “Find out if it's true that she's divorcing Chris,” she heard him whisper loudly.
With a weight lifted from her chest, Lilian let out a breath. Although she was tired after the confrontation, she was proud she defended her position. She had been waiting for this time, and she wasn't going to let it pass.
The gentle buzz of papers anchored her in a rhythm she had nearly forgotten as the hours went by. She worked long into the evening, determined to make up for lost time because she felt empowered by the sense of control she had over her life and her business. But as the hours passed and her energy level dropped, she eventually succumbed to tiredness. The constant pain in her neck and back caused discomfort in every muscle due to prolonged sitting.
She glanced at the clock with a sigh. The building was extremely quiet as it grew late. After collecting her things and switching off the final light in her office, she entered the slightly dark hallway. As she walked towards the parking lot, the sound of her steps echoed in the quiet atmosphere.
She noticed a familiar figure in the darkness as she approached her vehicle. She observed him sitting in the driver's seat of a Rolls Royce, headlights lowered, parked near her stylish black car. He was fully engrossed in his phone.
Lilian felt a surge of fear and excitement as her heart raced, and she suddenly couldn't breathe.
Kelvin stood frozen where he was, his own face contorted by a jolt of shock. Adrian strolled along the twisting path, slumped shoulders, downward-glancing eyes darkening. He wasn't the confident, neatly dressed friend Kelvin was used to."I need to speak with you," Adrian said to him."Let's go inside," Kelvin said quietly as he pushed open the door to welcome Adrian into the living room. Kelvin cursed himself inwardly at the mess within—books lay scattered everywhere, cushions wildly scattered, and even the coffee table had been scratched from his mad searching session earlier. He felt a heat rise to his face. "Sorry for the mess." I, uh, lost something. Been searching for it all night."Adrian did not seem to listen. He crossed over to the window armchair and collapsed into it, his bulk seeming to fill out the worn cushions. His face was ghastly pale in the bad light, his hands shaking a little on the chair arms, fingers drumming a rhythm Kelvin knew all too well.“If you’ve got a d
Kelvin's unease strained to a breaking point as he strode back and forth in the center of the lounge, the room laughing at him good-naturedly with emptiness. He launched his look about furiously, his eyes running over the coffee table, the couch, the borders of the carpet, as though the book had fallen into some unseen crevice. His rational brain knew it wasn't there; he'd looked in every nook and cranny in desperation. But his head refused to be rationalized, still reeling crazily in a vicious circle of the same thing:What did I do with it?He tried to reel back, but the recollections were hazy, as though they'd been scrubbed away. There was a hut. The meeting with the car attendant. That shock of suspicion he'd felt, feeling that book was a risk, one he'd forgotten in his haste to leave. And then. nothing. He recalled pushing the small, tattered book into his pocket, but his thoughts after that were a vacuum.The options churned and bubbled in his mind. If he'd left it there, anyon
"Are you sure you're doing the right thing, Lilian?" Doris asked over the phone, worry corrugating her tone. She had called to inquire whether they could spend time together—something they'd both neglected in the wake of Lilian's attack. Doris had been overseas in China when it happened, on an important work assignment, and hadn't returned until a few days prior.Lilian hesitated, lacing her flats by the front door. Her lips were clamped into a tight smile. "I'm sure. I think this is the best way to get over Chris. I mean—how else am I going to fall in love with someone else if I don't make myself available?"She'd admitted to the fact: those hesitant, uncertain kisses with Jack. Weeks, they'd been creating—banishing isolation, constructing hope—but only a brief touch had happened.Doris swallowed, thought. "Yeah, but don't you think you're rushing into this—how long have you known him?""Four and a half months," Lilian said, brushing a lock of hair from behind her ear. "But wait, why
Joan hadn't expected it. Lilian's tone cut through the supermarket like a blade:"Joan, you went out of your way to move out of my sight so Chris would notice you. Even during our marriage, you tried to flirt with him to your best ability, but he never reacted.".Yes, he was not in love with me, but I was his wife while you were just a secretary, and one whom he was not even sexually attracted to. So, I pose the same question: how does it feel to know that you will never be his woman? That he will never think of you as anything other than his secretary? How does it feel to realize that he does not consider you woman enough? That he would rather be with me, despite hating me, than be with you as his mistress? And how does it feel to realize you would not stand a chance now that Rita was reclaimed?One jab after another, Lilian vomited truth too hot to handle. She looked at hard-won contentment. Joan's lips curled with rage as she spat, "You ugly bitch!" and struck.Lilian moved out of
Kelvin shut the front door behind him, hoping that the frame would keep out what was on the other side. His heart pounded. While between them there existed space, as in an unpaid car, the detectives' thudding foot noises lagged back and climbed up the drive. Why? He slumped into an armchair and was compelled to lie back in it.It was that scary a moment that he could not shake his head, looking calm. He was scared yet determined. Was he aware that he was scared?He forced himself to take a breath, trying to bring his heartbeat back to some less panicked realm. Get it together,' he instructed himself. The second they figure out what is happening, I'm dead. Kelvin sat on the small end table, glaring intensely at his phone as he stood up. Adrian. He needed to call Adrian. He felt a flash of fear as he dialed with his fingers, each number a reminder of the danger at hand.The phone rang, but waiting made him get the creeps. Come on, Adrian, pick up. They might be at your doorstep any minu
As Commissioner Cruz's car rolled along the deserted, grassy driveway, Bill Darcy said nothing. Fists in bulging pockets, he entered the lounge with the tension of the visit on his shoulders. He sat in a chair with his eyes closed, attempting to relax as the sensation persisted, just as abruptly as the pungent smell of wet ground outside. Footsteps down the corridor followed after a few seconds. As she entered the room, Sandra rested her eyes on him.She spoke in a tone that resounded with a coarse and insensitive response, "Oh! He's gone?"There was coldness and calmness in Darcy's voice, which was a confirmation of a suppressed reaction. "Yes," he replied.His hand resting firmly on her waist, he placed it on her dress cloth and looked up at it. She looked back, her eyes clouded with more than interest; the color of unease, a hint of hidden fear in the depths of her eyes."What did he want, Bill?" Her tone was soft now, but a strand of desperation threaded through. "Or shouldn't I a