Monica was still shaken even after she entered the taxi. Her body felt hollow, like her soul had been scooped out and discarded somewhere between the agency hallway and Angel’s betrayal. The revelation was mind-blowing. Everything—from the very beginning—had been a calculated lie. A manipulation. All of it, just to kick her out of the agency. Her dreams, her hard work, the years she sacrificed… tossed aside like trash.How could Angel be so cruel? All because she’d topped the agency? That was her sin? Her punishment for daring to shine?Her fingers trembled in her lap. She wanted to cry—desperately. But the tears refused to come, locked behind some invisible dam as if her body no longer had the strength to weep."Ma, we are here," the driver announced, his voice cutting through the fog in her head as the taxi slowed in front of the McKenzie family estate.“Okay,” she whispered, barely audible. She climbed out of the taxi, her steps unsteady, her breath shallow. Her mind replayed Angel
Spencer broke off the kiss, his breath ragged. His eyes lingered on her lips—still glistening, coated in the heat they’d just shared.Monica clung to his arms, breathless, needing him to steady her. He gently cupped her chin and leaned in to place a soft kiss on her bottom lip—just a peck, but it sent a fresh wave of warmth flooding her cheeks.“Spencer…” she whispered, blushing furiously as her eyes met his. She buried her face in his chest to hide it.“You’re embarrassed?” he murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His fingers threaded gently through her hair, lingering as if he never wanted to let go.Monica groaned softly, eyes fluttering closed. “Gosh…” she muttered, melting into his warmth, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne. For a second, she forgot the world outside even existed.But then he shifted.“Hey…” His voice dropped an octave, serious now. “I need to show you something.” He helped her sit up before rising from the couch, his brows drawn tight. “
Monica hurried into the fitting room, her heart racing with a mix of nerves and anticipation. The board had decided she would open the show alongside Angel, and now, with her fitting scheduled, she had one more thing to conquer—her walk.A makeup artist helped her slip out of her clothes, ushering in a mannequin draped in the dress Spencer had designed for her. Monica's breath caught in her throat. She had been waiting for this moment, but seeing it in person—finally—it almost knocked the air out of her.The dress was breathtaking. Light, delicate, with butterflies fluttering like whispers along the edges, their wings brushing against the fabric. Gold silk lined every curve, catching the light and glowing like something ethereal. It was more than she had imagined. This... this is perfect.Her lips curled into a slight smile, a mix of wonder and something more—maybe disbelief. She reached out tentatively, her fingers grazing the silk. It felt impossibly soft, like butter, sliding under
Monica stepped out of the locker room, still sore from rehearsal, her bag slung over one shoulder. The elevator doors had just opened when she saw him.Spencer.“Hey,” she said softly, eyes darting away. She’d managed to sneak out of his apartment before dawn, before he woke up—before she could regret what almost happened. Thankfully apart from making out, Spencer didn't go further which was quite impressive judging from the heat between them.He wasn’t wearing the usual mask today. Just a plain black hoodie and dark jeans. The kind of look that made him blend in, yet somehow stand out more. He was acting like a worker instead of a boss.He tilted his head, lips curling. “Just hey, huh?”Before she could move, he stepped forward and brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek. Her breath caught.His nearness made the air tighten. Monica tried to step back, but her spine met the cold steel of the elevator wall.He didn’t touch her right away. His eyes dropped to her leg.“You’re limp
Monica trailed behind Spencer into the house, her steps hesitant."Where's Aunt Suzy?" she asked the moment he swung the door open."She went to pick up her daughter from the airport," Spencer said, tossing his keys onto a side table without looking back.Monica blinked. "She has a daughter?"There was a flicker of surprise in her voice, like she couldn't imagine Aunt Suzy having a whole other life she didn’t know about.Spencer just nodded, already heading for the stairs. "Come on. Let’s go to my studio."She followed him up, the wooden steps creaking lightly under their weight. At the top, he veered off into what looked like his room. Monica hovered in the hallway, awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she waited.Through the half-open door, she caught a glimpse of him pulling a loose T-shirt over his head and swapping his jeans for sweatpants with an easy, careless grace. Moments later, he stepped out, holding a folded sweatshirt and a pair of shorts."Are you
"Yeah, I'm making another outfit," Spencer said, walking into the studio, his voice low and husky."I just have a bad feeling."He continued.Monica followed him inside, nodding faintly. She did not know why he brought her here anyway."Ooh..." she murmured as he disappeared behind a large board. She moved further into the studio, her eyes on the large screen displaying the design."I don't trust some of my staff," Spencer continued, his tone clipped. "The outfit you saw will only be used if nothing goes wrong."A moment later, he pushed out a mannequin.The afternoon light hit it—and Monica stilled.The dress was silver, impossibly light, almost weightless. It shimmered under the soft sun, flowing into a skirt that moved like it was alive. Tiny crystals dusted the bodice, thick around the chest, thinning as they spilled toward the waist. The neckline dipped gently, perfectly measured between bold and graceful.It didn’t need jewelry.It didn’t need anything. It was perfection made in
Spencer slammed the brakes in front of the hospital and jumped out before the car fully stopped. He didn’t lock the doors. He barely heard the screech as he sprinted through the glass entrance.The air inside was cold and sterile. Harsh fluorescent lights made everything look harsher. Spencer moved straight to the front desk, where a receptionist sat behind a computer."Please," he said, voice tight. "Where is Charles McKenzie?"The woman glanced up, startled by his disheveled appearance. She gave a small polite smile, fingers tapping the keyboard."VIP Ward, number three," she said after a moment.Spencer didn’t wait for more. He turned and bolted for the stairs, taking them two at a time.At the top, he spotted Beatrice standing outside a glass door. Her back was rigid, one hand pressed against the window as she stared into the room beyond. His steps slowed. She was the one who had called him. He hadn’t seen her cry before, not even during fights with his father, but now her shoulde
Monica wrapped her arms around herself as she stepped out of the car. The night air was sharp against her skin. Across the car, Adriana climbed down with a smug look, twirling her keys between her fingers."Why are you bringing us back to the company so late?" Monica asked, frowning. She had been at Spencer’s house when Adriana showed up, only to find Spencer gone. Adriana had smiled too sweetly, hinting she had something important to show Monica.Adriana smirked, already moving toward the entrance. "Instead of complaining, why don't you just follow me?"Monica stayed where she was, arms still crossed. Her gut twisted uneasily."The company’s locked. How do you even plan to get inside? And what do you want to show me?" Her voice was tight. She didn’t trust Adriana one bit. She was already regretting leaving Spencer’s place."The guards will let us in," Adriana said easily. She walked back, grabbed Monica's wrist, and tugged her toward the building.Monica hesitated but let herself be
Max scrambled to pull up his boxers and yanked on his pants. “This is my business,” he muttered, buttoning up. “What was so urgent it couldn’t wait two more damn minutes? I was almost—”“Spare me the details, young Master,” Sam cut in dryly. “Your friend is passed out on the dining table.”Max froze. “What?”“You might want to check on him instead of moaning his name in the bathroom,” Sam added with a knowing look before walking out.Max rushed into the living room—and sure enough, Lake was slumped over the table, unconscious.He knelt beside him, placing a hand on Lake’s forehead. “He’s burning up.”“I already called Dr. Madison,” Sam said from behind.Max groaned. “Why Madison? You should’ve called Oscar or Frank.”“Can’t,” Sam replied. “Oscar’s tied up with an emergency, and Frank flew out with a patient. Madison was the only one available.”Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m never comfortable around her.”Sam raised a brow. “You like dicks than ass... her ass.”Max
Lake squirmed, but Max only tightened his grip around his waist, locking him in place."Stop being such a whiny baby and listen to Daddy," Max said with a wink, clearly enjoying every second of Lake's discomfort."You're a maniac," Lake growled, his head starting to spin.Max's playful grin faded. "Hey... are you okay?""Let go of me first," Lake muttered, his voice strained."You’re hungry. Eat," Max said, picking up the plate of steamed mushroom soup. Lake had stopped fighting and was leaning weakly against Max’s chest."Leave me alone," Lake muttered, his voice faint, but Max wasn’t moved. He scooped up some soup and brought it to his lips."Eat," Max repeated softly. Lake stayed silent, eyes closed, refusing to respond."Please," Max added, his voice quieter now, the word almost a whisper.Lake blinked, surprised by the calm but pleading tone. Slowly, he opened his mouth and let the warmth of the soup slide down his throat.Max’s eyes locked on Lake as he lazily dragged his tongue
Then Max reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind Lake’s ear. The touch sent a shiver down Lake’s spine, and without meaning to, he leaned in.“I know you probably don’t care whether I’m around or not,” Max whispered, “but I’m happy for you.”Lake’s eyes lingered on Max’s face, mesmerized.“Damn, you look good,” Max added softly, then pulled back like touching Lake any longer might burn him.He started the engine and drove off, and Lake turned to the window, a quiet, genuine smile spreading across his lips.When Max stopped in front of a grand building, Lake’s eyes widened in awe.“Whoa,” he breathed, staring at the mansion.Max grinned as he stepped out. “You look starstruck. This is my place.”He walked around and opened the door for Lake, who stepped out slowly. “This is insane. Kinda my dream house.”Max leaned closer, playful. “Marry me, and it’s yours.”The smile faded from Lake’s face. “Don’t say stuff like that. Why would I marry you?”“Why not?” Max winked.
He caught Lake just before he could fall to the ground, supporting him with one arm around his waist.Lake blinked, his vision blurry. “What the hell...” he mumbled, still disoriented.Max’s grip tightened on his waist, holding him steady. “Lake, are you okay? What just happened?”“I’m fine,” Lake muttered, though he didn’t feel fine at all. His heart raced, but the dizziness still hadn't passed. He pushed Max’s arm away, trying to regain his composure.Max didn’t let go, though. “You sure about that? You nearly passed out.”Lake tried to push him off again, but this time, his mom intervened. “Max, let him go. He needs to sit down.”Max hesitated but released his hold. Lake steadied himself with a hand on the chair, his mom’s concerned gaze following him closely.“You scared me,” his mother said softly, her voice laced with worry. “You need to take care of yourself, Lake.”“I’m fine,” Lake snapped a little too sharply, still feeling dizzy.Max crossed his arms, raising a brow. “Doesn'
Lake pushed open the door, and a nurse who had been attending to his mother stood up with a polite smile. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she said, giving Lake’s mom a quick glance before exiting the room.His mother’s eyes lit up when she saw them. “Well, you came earlier than I expected, I was even beginning to think of ways to convince you.”Lake smiled, but the tension in his posture didn’t go unnoticed. “Hi, Mom. How are you feeling today?”“I’m feeling fine,” she said, then her gaze shifted to Max. A playful grin spread across her face. “Hold on,” she said, her eyes narrowing mischievously, “you didn’t tell me your friend was this good-looking, Lake.”Lake flushed slightly, his hand instinctively rubbing the back of his neck. “Mom, stop, you are going to make his ego burst.”Max stepped forward, offering a confident smile and the bouquet of flowers he had brought. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am, I have always wanted to meet my future...”Before he could complete, Lake hit his a
Monica twirled a pen between her fingers as she waited for Spencer to return from the bathroom. The soft sound of the faucet shutting off was followed by his footsteps and then—he reappeared, casually dressed in a new outfit and then put a big old jacket over it.Her eyes darted to his jaw, then quickly away. Why did he always have to look that good? It was becoming distracting. Dangerous as she was beginning to notice too “Are you okay?” Spencer asked, noticing her flushed expression as he took his seat.Monica nodded too quickly, brushing it off.A knock cut through the air before the door creaked open and Diane peeked in. “Sir, Liam McKenzie is here to see you. Should I send him away or…?”Spencer paused, then said calmly, “You can send him in after a few minutes.”Monica’s body stiffened at the name. She stood and walked to Spencer, who was already slipping into character, putting his usual cold mask as he turned his chair to face away from the door.“You can stay in that room,”
A grin slowly tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re acting like…”Monica clamped her mouth shut, cheeks burning. Her gaze betrayed her though—it dipped to his lips, lingering just a second too long. Like they had betrayed her. Like she wanted to erase the memory of Adriana’s kiss with her own.Monica didn’t answer. She turned away, but not before he caught the ghost of a smile playing at her lips.****“Good,” the Coach called out, nodding with approval as the male model strutted confidently from one end of the hall to the other, sharp and composed.Lake stepped aside, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He grabbed a water bottle, took a long sip, and exhaled. The air inside the studio was thick with heat and tension—everyone was pushing to be flawless.After a brief moment, he tossed the bottle aside and rejoined the line, slipping seamlessly into place.Practice stretched on for another thirty minutes. The room echoed with the clack of shoes, the barked
Lake rushed into the elevator at the Mo’s Fashion Empire just before the doors slid shut. His breath came in short puffs from the quick dash, but it wasn’t just the sprint that made his pulse race.Max was already inside.Their eyes met for a brief second—sharp, loaded. Max's jaw tightened as he looked away and folded his arms across his chest. The cold shoulder was unmistakable.Lake swallowed and shifted awkwardly, glancing at the glowing floor numbers before finally gathering the nerve to speak.“Max…”No response.Lake clenched and unclenched his hands, fingers fidgeting at the hem of his shirt. The silence between them was deafening.“I know you don’t want to talk to me right now,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. “But... I really need you to come to breakfast tomorrow. With my mom.”Max didn’t move at first. Then, he let out a quiet scoff and shook his head slightly, still staring at the elevator doors."Max, please," Lake said, stepping closer as the elevator hummed sof
"The internet has been buzzing with news of the upcoming fashion show, barely a few days away," a bright-eyed reporter chirped from the television screen.Brie’s fingers curled into a tight fist.Smash.The remote control slammed against the wall, shattering into pieces.She stood frozen in front of the screen, seething."The wife of billionaire hotshot Spencer Reid was recently spotted wearing the mysterious Monalisa Collection outside Pasisi Hotel alongside her colleagues..."Brie’s nostrils flared."Why her again?" she hissed. "I’ve clawed my way this far—I won’t let Monica steal what’s mine."She reached for the TV button, about to turn it off, but the reporter’s next words made her freeze."The Mo Corporation has remained mysterious about their anonymous CEO, leading the public to speculate about his true identity. But exclusive intel suggests that he has a tender spot for model Monica Banks... even personally designing the dress she’ll debut on the runway—”Click.Brie killed th