تسجيل الدخولDorian’s POV Dinner finished successfully. Everyone shook hands. Mr Smith said he would be in touch with our legal team within the week to start drawing up the actual agreement. As my father and I walked together toward our cars in the parking lot, he spoke almost absentmindedly, like the thought had just occurred to him in passing. “That’s unfortunate,” he said. I looked over at him. “What is?” “Your girlfriend. Missing tonight.” I waited for more. A lecture, maybe. Some kind of disappointed speech about responsibility and showing up for important things. It didn’t come. Instead, after a small pause, he just added, very simply: “Nadia never missed one.” That was it. No criticism. No lecture. Nothing else attached to it at all. He got into his car and drove off. One sentence. That’s all it was. And yet somehow, that one sentence followed me the entire drive home, sitting in the passenger seat of my mind like it had every right to be there. ~~~ When I got home, Lena wa
Dorian POV My father called me into his office about an hour before the end of the workday. I knew it was something important the second his assistant told me. My father didn’t usually call people into his office that late unless it actually mattered. I walked in. He was standing by the window, looking down at the city, his hands in his pockets as he stood probably thinking about something serious. “Sit down,” he said, without turning around. I sat. He finally turned and looked at me. “Tonight’s dinner is the most important meeting we’ve had in months.” “Okay,” I said. “I know it’s important. You already told me that yesterday.” “I don’t think you understand how important.” He walked over and sat down across from me, leaning forward slightly. “This international investment company has been considering a partnership with us for almost a year now. If tonight goes well, I’m putting you in charge of the entire project.” I blinked. “The entire project?” “Yes,” he repeated. “It wou
Nadia’s POV The next day I made the brand page official.I took photos of the coat in the best lighting my apartment had to offer, which honestly wasn’t great, but it would have to do for now. I posted it. Wrote a small caption. Then immediately tried very hard not to obsess over it.I failed within five minutes.Five minutes after posting: one like.Ten minutes after posting: three likes.Half an hour after posting: seven likes.Nothing exciting. I told myself I didn’t care about numbers like that. I told myself this was just the beginning and beginnings are always slow.I absolutely cared.Then, almost out of nowhere, my phone exploded.I mean that literally. Notification after notification, stacking up faster than I could read them. Fifty likes. Then a hundred. Comments pouring in. Shares. Saves.Confused, I sat up and tried to figure out what on earth had just happened.Then I saw it.Priya had shared my post on her story. And Priya, it turned out, had an enormous following I had
Nadia POVThe morning after lunch with Richard, I sat in front of my laptop for almost ten minutes before I actually did anything. The card was sitting right next to my keyboard. I kept looking at it like it might disappear if I looked away for too long.Finally I typed in the numbers.I pressed enter.And then I just sat there.Staring at the screen.The balance updated right in front of my eyes, and for a second I forgot how to breathe properly. It wasn’t really about the number. I mean, yes, it was a lot of money. A ridiculous amount of money. But that’s not what made my chest feel so tight.It was what the number meant.Freedom.Options.A future that didn’t depend on Dorian, or Vivienne, or anyone else who thought they had the right to control my life just because they had more money than me.For the first time in years, I felt like I could actually breathe. Like there was room in my lungs that wasn’t there before.I sat back in my chair and just let that feeling sit with me for
Nadia’s POV Lunch arrived. We ate, and the conversation drifted into easier territory. His work, the economy, a new development project he was considering in the south of France, a restaurant he had been to last week that had genuinely offended him with its portion sizes. It was comfortable in a way I hadn’t expected. Easy in a way that felt almost strange after everything. Then a question I had been turning over for years slipped out before I could think better of it. “Can I ask you something?” Richard nodded without hesitation. “Of course.” I looked at my plate for a moment. Then decided honesty was simpler. “How did you end up with Vivienne?” The smile didn’t disappear from his face angrily. It just faded. Slowly, the way light faded at the end of an afternoon. “Sorry,” I said immediately. “You don’t have to—” “No.” He shook his head. “It’s fine, Nadia. It’s fine.” A long silence followed. He set his fork down. He looked out the window at the street, and for a moment he se
Nadia POV I wasn’t planning to eat lunch out today. Actually, I wasn’t planning much of anything. The last few days had been a strange mix of anger, determination, and exhaustion. One moment I would be sketching designs and feeling genuinely hopeful. The next moment I would remember that Vivienne had destroyed my job with a single phone call, and the hope would curdle into something sharper. Then I’d get angry all over again. So when I found myself standing outside a restaurant around noon, I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. I just wanted food. And maybe a little peace. And something warm that wasn’t made in my apartment kitchen with whatever was left in my refrigerator. I pushed open the glass door and stepped inside. The restaurant wasn’t crowded. Soft music played somewhere in the background, low and unbothered. A few businessmen occupied tables near the center. A couple sat near the back, sharing a dessert and not speaking, the comfortable kind of silence that only ca
Ariel’s POV I should’ve known it would be one of those mornings. The kind where the universe conspires against you from the moment you open your eyes to find that your alarm never went off. The kind where your hair refuses to cooperate, your favorite shirt has a mysterious stain. Yeah, that kind of
Ariel lay sprawled on her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, but her mind was occupied with thoughts of him. Professor Luther. She squeezed her eyes shut, the very name making her face feel warm. This wasn’t just a small liking anymore. Her chest felt tight with every memory, every time he looked at
Luther had asked Ariel to come see him that morning. A few minutes later, someone knocked on his office door. “Come in,” he called, setting the pen down on his desk and folding his hands.The leather of his chair creaked slightly as he straightened his posture. Ariel quietly walked into the room. T
The loud, piercing sound of sirens echoed from far away. Ariel’s fingers shook as she held her phone tightly against her ear. She kept saying the address again and again to the person who answered the emergency call. “Please hurry... he's bleeding a lot,” she choked out, glancing down at Daniel who







