MasukLiana woke to the faint hum of her phone vibrating on the nightstand. Her eyes were heavy, her mind thick with the fragments of dreams she couldn’t piece together — flashes of Viktor’s smirk, Draven’s calm voice, Aiden’s laugh echoing like a promise.She reached for the phone, squinting against the light. It was a message from Cassian:Cassian: “Be ready by nine. Family breakfast. No excuses.”A sigh escaped her lips. Family breakfasts were never just breakfasts in the Carver house. They were strategic meetings disguised with pancakes and orange juice.She showered quickly, dressed in a simple cream blouse and dark jeans, and pulled her hair into a neat bun. By the time she arrived at the mansion, Leo’s car was already parked outside — sleek, intimidating, just like him.The second she walked in, she could feel it — the tension. Dante lounged on one of the couches, scrolling through his phone. Cassian was by the window, sipping coffe
Morning sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows of Liana’s studio, washing the space in soft gold. It should’ve felt peaceful — the kind of quiet she’d once begged for when her life was chaos under her brothers’ watchful eyes. But now, there was nothing peaceful about the storm brewing inside her.Her phone buzzed on the desk. She didn’t need to check who it was. The contact name flashing on her screen was already burned into her mind: Draven Dusk.She stared at it for a long moment before answering.“Good morning, sunshine,” his deep, teasing voice came through. “You didn’t return my call last night.”“I was busy,” she said quietly, sketching another design without really seeing it.“You’re always busy,” he countered. “One of these days, I’ll show up and make you rest. You’ll thank me later.”“Draven,” she said, her tone laced with warning. “Don’t.”He chuckled softly, unbothered as always. “Fine. But we s
Morning came too fast. Liana hadn’t slept. Her mind had spun all night — flashes of Draven’s intense stare, Viktor’s dangerous smirk, Aiden’s easy calm. Three men from three different worlds, all crossing paths inside her studio like it was some sort of battlefield. By dawn, her nerves were a mess, and her brothers’ mansion — which was usually her sanctuary — felt suffocating. She dressed in a soft beige blouse, tied her hair back neatly, and decided to escape before Leo saw the news. But luck was not on her side. The moment she descended the marble staircase, she found Leo waiting in the living room — his phone in hand, his expression as dark as thunder. “Good morning,” she greeted cautiously. Leo didn’t return the greeting. He just raised his phone and turned the screen toward her. A photo — one that hadn’t been taken by any official photographer.
The headlines hit before dawn.By morning, Liraé Atelier wasn’t just trending — it was exploding. Social media was flooded with photos from the gala: Aria’s breathtaking gown, the glittering Carver siblings, and, most importantly, the shots no one was supposed to take.One image had gone viral within hours — Liana Carver on the terrace, standing between Draven Dusk, Aiden Cross, and Viktor Moretti.The caption?“The Heiress and Her Three Kings.”The internet was on fire.Comments ranged from gossip to conspiracy theories.> “Is Liana Carver secretly dating Draven Dusk??”“Aiden Cross looked way too close for a ‘friend.’”“Why was Viktor Moretti — a mafia lord — even at that event?”“The Carvers are losing control of their little sister.”By breakfast, every major outlet had called for a statement.And Leo Carver was fuming.He tossed the morning paper onto the long dining table, the headline screaming back at them in glossy ink. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”Dante whistled low. “Well
The city was painted in gold that evening.Every skyscraper shimmered, every street reflected the pulse of luxury. Limousines lined the entrance of the Thorne-Carver estate — an architectural masterpiece of glass and marble — where the world’s most powerful had gathered to witness what was already being called the event of the year.Inside, chandeliers dripped with light, orchestras played soft waltzes, and diamonds glittered like stars fallen to earth.And at the center of it all — Liana Carver stood quietly, watching her creation come to life.Aria Thorne, dressed in Liana’s masterpiece, descended the grand staircase with Leo beside her. The gown flowed like water, luminous and ethereal, each movement catching the light in breathtaking ripples. The cameras flashed wildly, guests gasped audibly, and Liana felt something tighten in her chest.She did it.Her design was the center of attention — whispered about, admired, photographed. Every compliment Aria received carried Liana’s name
The following week was a blur of silk, deadlines, and sleepless nights.Liana barely had time to breathe. Between managing her team, refining sketches, and overseeing fabric deliveries, her studio had become a whirlwind of creation. Everywhere she turned, someone was cutting, stitching, or pinning something to a mannequin.And at the heart of it all — Aria Thorne’s engagement gown.Liana poured every ounce of herself into it. The gown wasn’t just fabric; it was her statement — her way of saying to the world I belong here.It would be unveiled at one of the most anticipated events of the year: the Thorne–Carver engagement gala. The guest list read like a who’s who of global power — tycoons, royals, and media giants. And Liana’s label, Liraé Atelier, would be the name whispered behind every glass of champagne if she got this right.She was sketching the final train design when Leo entered the studio.“Still awake?” His tone was half stern, half admiring.Liana smiled without looking up.







