LOGINWilliam stood under the streetlight, the rain soaking through his black suit, listening to her flat, professional recording over and over again. He pressed his eyes shut, a heavy, jagged breath escaping his chest."Jane," William rasped into the voicemail, his voice breaking completely. "Please... pick up. I'm sorry. God, Jane, I'm so sorry. Please."The line clicked dead.Across town, in her dark, tiny apartment, Jane sat on her living room floor in her ruined emerald dress, her back pressed against the sofa, watching her phone screen light up with his name again and again.She let it ring until it went dark.Thirty minutes later. The grand hallway on the top floor of the Plaza was completely deserted, save for the tall, half-drenched figure pacing violently in front of Suite 802.William was a man entirely unraveling. His wet suit jacket hung heavy on his shoulders, blood still dried along his split lip, and his dark blue eyes were shot through with a manic, unhinged crimson. He did
Mike caught Jane’s waist, steadying her acting with a fond, warm look that made Victoria’s blood run completely cold. "You heard the lady, Vic," Mike said, his voice dropping into a quiet, serious tone that lacked any of his usual playful teasing toward her. "Step back."Victoria felt a lump form in her throat—sharp, painful, and agonizingly heavy. He hadn't called her Vic like that in years. He wasn't looking at her. The man who had loved her for a decade was walking away, completely captivated by someone else, and she was entirely powerless to stop it."Mike... wait," Victoria whispered, her voice cracking with a raw, desperate turmoil she had never felt in her entire life."Get your hands off her, Cavill!" William bellowed, stumbling back to his feet, blood dripping from his cut lip, his hair wild and eyes completely bloodshot with pure possessive torment. He took a heavy step toward them, his hands shaking. "Jane... look at me. Please. Don't do this."Jane didn't even turn around.
"Then figure out how to fix it without starting a bar fight in Le Monde!" Victoria snapped, though her own eyes kept darting back to Mike, her heart doing a panicked, uncomfortable flip every time he spun Jane slowly under the dim golden lights.The classic jazz piece faded into a softer, even more intimate melody. Jane stayed right where she was—her cheek resting lightly on Mike's shoulder, her hand resting on his tailored jacket, looking every bit like a woman swept off her feet."How are we doing?" Jane murmured softly, her gray eyes flickering slightly toward the darkened VIP corner.Mike leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he let out a low, amused rumble. "If William’s glare was an actual weapon, I would be disintegrating into dust right now. But more importantly... Victoria hasn't touched her wine in ten minutes. She's staring at my hand on your back like she wants to sever it with a butter knife."Jane couldn't help the soft, genuine laugh that bubbled up in
"I have to confess a dark secret to you, Miss Pascual," Mike whispered softly, leaning in close enough that his warm breath brushed her ear—a position he knew from Victoria's precise text updates would be driving William into a bloodthirsty frenzy in the shadows."Call me Jane," she said, a small, genuine smile curving her lips."Okay, Jane," Mike purred, his British accent dripping like honey. "Victoria was my first love. My absolute biggest crush since our college days in England."Jane’s gray eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Really? Victoria?""Oh, absolutely," Mike sighed, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. "I was completely head over heels. But she looked at me like I was an overprotective older brother. And William, being the unbearable prick he is, figured it out and teased me endlessly. So, naturally, I made it my life’s mission to make his existence a living hell. I flirted with his dates, competed for his acquisitions, and turned us into bitter corporate rivals. All ou
Thirty minutes later, Jane was crammed into the back of a taxi with Emma and Julia, speeding toward Soho. The sheer, absurd chaotic momentum of her friends was the only thing keeping the massive dam of her tears from bursting."Okay, listen to me," Emma said, holding up a sleek black hanger in a high-end boutique twenty minutes later. "You are going into enemy territory—meaning Le Monde—and you need to look like an absolute goddess.""She needs the backless emerald silk," Julia insisted, hauling a stunning, body-skimming cocktail dress off the rack. "It screams 'I am brilliant, unbothered, and completely out of your league.'"Jane looked at her reflection in the boutique mirror. Her eyes were still dry, held back by sheer force of will, but her heart was beating a slow, painful rhythm against her ribs. She took the emerald dress into the fitting room.When she stepped out, both Emma and Julia let out loud, synchronized gasps, clutching each other's arms in awe.The dress draped over he
Jane blinked, staring at the screen in pure, unadulterated shock.Julia, who had zero concept of personal space, unashamedly peeked over Jane’s shoulder, her jaw instantly dropping to the floor. "Wait... WHAT?!""What? What is it?!" Emma squeaked, practically diving across the table to see."Did Mr. Reynold’s own sister just text you to matchmake you with the famous Brit?!" Julia shrieked, her voice pitching so high two accountants at the next table turned around. "Michael Cavill?! The British CEO billionaire?!"Allan’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, a dreamy, awe-struck sigh escaping his lips. "Oh my god. Mike Cavill? His voice is like warm honey pouring over velvet. Jane, if you don't go, I am going in a wig."







