MasukWilliam was sitting on his couch with one leg crossed over the other. He had already taken his bath and was wearing an expensive black suit, his hair neatly combed. His face held a cold expression as his finger tapped on the armrest of the couch.
“Mr. President, the waitress is here,” Maxwell said. “Let her in.” Maxwell opened the door for the waitress. She walked in with her gaze fixed on the floor. “Good morning, sir,” she greeted. “Start talking.” “H... Huh?” “Don't make me lose my patience. Speak, who paid you to drug me?” The waitress looked down, the fear she tried to conceal was slowly showing. “I didn’t—” “If I were you, the last thing I’d do right now is lie,” William glared at her. Her lips began trembling immediately. She didn’t have the courage to look up at his face. “Maxwell, can you tell me everything about her?” “Yes, Mr. President,” Maxwell said as he clicked on his tablet and began reading, “Cynthia Stevens, age 23. She has two brothers, one of whom is a college dropout and the other is still in high school. Cynthia is the breadwinner of the family, and she’s sponsoring her brother’s education. Their parents died in a car accident.” At this point, the waitress was already shedding tears. “Not only can I make you lose your job, but I can also take every bit of money you have and send you to jail for what you did. All I’m asking for is the name of the person who paid you to do this,” William said. Cynthia immediately dropped to her knees. “Please, I’m sorry! Don’t do this to me. I had no choice. I needed the money,” she cried. “I’m losing my patience,” William said, completely unmoved by her tears. “The person who paid me was Miss Sheryl,” she confessed. “Sheryl?” William muttered inwardly, confusion flashing across his face. It didn’t take him long to figure out what Sheryl had intended, and it angered him even more. He opened his mouth to speak when his phone began ringing. “Father,” he answered. “I need you back home as soon as possible. It’s urgent.” “Okay.” He hung up, stood, and adjusted his suit. “I’m leaving. You know what to do with Sheryl, right?” Maxwell nodded. “But what about her, Mr. President?” Maxwell gestured to the waitress, still kneeling. William glanced at her emotionlessly before looking away. “She’s fired.” With that, he left. _____ “Welcome home, Young Master,” the maids greeted as William entered the mansion. William nodded before heading inside. He walked into the study room where his father and mother were sitting next to each other, keeping themselves entertained with a book. “Father, Mother, good morning,” William greeted as he approached them. “Liam!” his mother beamed, standing up to hug him. “How are you? You don’t visit us as often as you used to,” she said. William gave a small smile before turning to face his father, who watched them with a smile of his own. “Have a seat, son,” his father gestured. “You said it was urgent. What’s wrong?” William asked. “Maxwell told your father what happened this morning,” William’s mother said with a smile. William closed his eyes and sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if he works for me or for you.” “Liam, you’ve finally met a woman who can make you feel like a man. You don’t realize how big that is. She might be the cure to your allergy.” “Father...” William sighed again. “You need to take responsibility for what happened. Marry her,” his father said. “Father...” William pinched the bridge of his nose. He had seen this coming the moment the conversation started. “Liam,” his mother called softly, “you’re 30. You’re not getting any younger, and neither are we. I want to see my grandkids before I die. We need an heir to continue our legacy. More than that, I want you to experience love with someone who makes you happy. Your father and I were so relieved when we heard you broke up with Sheryl. You deserve better.” She smiled, holding his hand. “I understand, but how can you be sure she’s the one for me?” William asked, the thought of marrying that sharp-tongued woman irked him to no ends. “You don’t need to worry about that. I had my men investigate her,” his father said, picking up a file. “Jessica Belles, age 22. The first daughter of Leon Harrison, from his first wife who passed away years ago. Very few people know she’s Leon’s daughter, which is part of the reason she changed her surname to her mother’s maiden name. She’s a D-list actress and a part-time model. She has a clean and decent record.” He smiled before looking at William. “I think she’s the one for you.” William’s mother nodded in agreement. William sighed deeply. There was no way he could win this argument. “I’ll think about it,” he said. _____ “What! What do you mean he found out? Shit!” Sheryl hung up the phone. She ran her hands through her hair in panic. Yesterday, her plan had been to drug William and have her way with him so the rumor she spread about her being pregnant could come true. But William’s men had thwarted her attempt. «SHERYL COLLINS' PREGNANCY SAGA: Who's the Real Father? Supermodel Sheryl Collins’ shocking pregnancy announcement took a dramatic turn when allegations surfaced of her secret affair with married billionaire, James Parker. According to trusted sources, Collins had been seeing Mr. Parker behind her ex, William Newman’s back. Fans are outraged, questioning the paternity of Collins’ unborn child. 'She’s a homewrecker and a liar,' one fan tweeted. Collins' team has refused to comment on the scandal, fueling speculation about the child’s father. The scandal has left Collins’ career and personal life in shambles, with brands and sponsors withdrawing their partnerships and ambassadorships...» Sheryl’s legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor, wide-eyed as she watched the news. This had to be a nightmare, right? She quickly dialed a number, tears welling up in her eyes. The person picked up on the second ring. “What?” “William, how could you?!” Sheryl screamed in pain. “You dug your grave the moment you decided to mess with me, Sheryl. Besides, everything on the news is the truth, right? Or are you going to deny that you once had an affair with James Parker?” William said coldly. Sheryl sniffed. “That was before—” “Before what? Before you 'fell in love' with me? Pathetic,” William said sarcastically. “Consider yourself lucky I didn’t file a lawsuit against you for defamation.” William hung up immediately. “You monster!” Sheryl screamed, throwing her phone away, tears streaming down her face. Everything she had worked hard for had crumbled to dust in a matter of minutes. _____ Hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks, with Jessica fully immersed in her work. Social media was still buzzing, from Sheryl’s career taking a huge blow to the engagement to the upcoming wedding of Louis and his fiancée, set to take place in less than two months. Jessica paced nervously in front of the director’s office. “Come in,” the director’s voice called, and she entered. “Good morning, sir,” she greeted. “Are you Miss Jessica Belles?” Jessica nodded. The director hummed, reviewing some papers. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you. The agency was impressed by your acting skills, and we’d like you to work with us on an upcoming movie,” he said. Jessica’s eyes widened. “H... Huh? Am I dreaming?” she blurted out. The director chuckled at her expression. “I... I’d be honored to work with you. Thank you for having such high esteem for me,” Jessica said. The director smiled. “You’ll play the role of the female lead’s closest friend. The movie will feature some popular actors. I hope you won’t disappoint us,” he said, handing her the script. He also gave her a contract to sign, finalizing everything. “Nice working with you, Miss Belles.” They exchanged a handshake, and Jessica bowed politely before turning to leave. Just then, the door opened, and someone walked in. Jessica’s expression changed when she saw it was none other than Oliver. “Mr. Martins!” the director said cheerfully. “I suppose it’s not too early for introductions,” the director said. “Miss Belles, meet Oliver Martins. He’ll be the male lead in the movie. Mr. Martins, this is Jessica Belles. She’s joining the cast as well.” Oliver smiled and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Belles.” Jessica forced a smile as she shook his hand. “I’ll be on my way now. Have a nice day,” Jessica said before leaving. “We’re going to be acting together? That means I’ll have to see his face every day... Gosh,” Jessica sighed. She looked at the script in her hand, and her face lit up. “I need to celebrate this!” she squealed. The moment she stepped out of the agency, two hefty men in suits blocked her path. “Miss Belles, please follow us,” one of them said. Jessica took a step back. “No. Who the heck are you guys?” “It’s an order from Mr. President. We’re instructed to bring you by force if necessary,” the other man responded, advancing toward her. Before Jessica could react, they grabbed her by both arms, dragging her away despite her struggles. “Hey! Let me go! What is this? Somebody help!” she screamed, her voice rising in panic as they led her toward a black car parked nearby. The door to the car swung open, and Jessica was pushed inside. She hit the seat with a small gasp, quickly scrambling upright. “Hey, open the door!” she pounded her fist against the window in frustration. Dread filled her when she noticed someone sitting in the shadows of the car. Her eyes widened as the figure shifted slightly, revealing his face. “You?” she whispered, disbelief mixing with anger. “We meet again,” William said casually, removing his sunglasses and fixing her with his cold, steady gaze. “What is the meaning of this?” Jessica spat furiously. “You can’t just kidnap me like this!” William leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “I have a proposal for you,” he said, ignoring her outburst. “A proposal?” Jessica’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?” William turned to face her fully. “Let’s get married.”One Month Later...Snowmelt glittered along the sidewalks and the city looked softer, calmer. Almost a month had passed since Jessica stood under the blinding lights of the press conference. Since then, courtrooms, lawyers and quiet boardrooms had replaced microphones and cameras. The world she had fought to reclaim was finally hers.Jessica sat at the wide glass desk that once belonged to her mother. Sunlight spilled across the papers in front of her, balance sheets, partnership agreements, and staff reports. William leaned over her shoulder, pointing at a column of numbers on the screen.“You’ll get the hang of it,” he said, his voice low and encouraging. “It’s all logic. Flow of money. Flow of decisions.”She gave him a small, amused smile. “Easy for you to say. You grew up in this world.”“True,” he said, pressing a hand to the back of her chair. “But you’re learning faster than anyone I’ve seen.”She looked back at the numbers. Her mother’s company. Her mother’s legacy. “I still
Belinda stared at the television, the sound turned low but the images impossible to ignore. Her own face filled the screen, frozen mid-blink as the anchor recited the latest headlines: “Actress Belinda Harrison Under Investigation for Bribery and Fraud.”Her phone vibrated for the hundredth time. She finally picked it up. “Jericho?” she said, her voice shaky. “Please tell me you’re on your way.”There was a long silence. Then Jericho’s deep voice, colder than she had ever heard it. “Belinda, it’s over.”She sat up straighter, clutching the phone. “No. No, it’s not. We can fix this—”“I just watched Jessica’s press conference,” he said flatly. “The documents. The bribes. The casting couch. And Leon—your father.”She winced at the word. “Jericho, listen to me—”“No,” he snapped. “You lied to me. For years I've been by your side, hoping I could fix you but this... I just can't.” he muttered.“I had to do it!,” she whispered. “You don’t understand how hard it is—”“I understand enough,”
The auditorium buzzed like a hive. Reporters squeezed into rows of folding chairs, microphones clustered on the long wooden table at the front. Camera lights glared against polished floors. Outside, protesters held signs with Leon's name crossed out in red.Jessica stood behind the curtain, fingers digging into her palms. She drew in a steadying breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped onto the stage. Flashbulbs popped like fireworks. The roar of voices dimmed to a murmur as she took her place at the podium.“Good evening,” she said, her voice clear over the microphones. “My name is Jessica Newman.”A hush fell. Every camera swung toward her.“I’m here tonight to tell the truth about my mother, Janet Belles. Five years ago, she died under circumstances the police called 'fire accident'. That was a lie.”She paused, letting the words sink in. “It was murder. Planned and ordered by the man who was supposed to protect her — my mother’s husband, Leon Harrison.”Gasps rippled through th
Night air clung to Jessica’s coat as she stepped out of the car and into the quiet courtyard of Leon Estate. On second thoughts, she told Reed to take her to Leon. The sprawling mansion loomed above her, its windows like dark eyes watching. The will was in her purse, the original copy her mother had hidden before she died. It named names, offshore accounts, and most importantly tied Leon Beaumont to the trafficking ring. Jessica’s hands trembled as she zipped the bag.William had argued for hours, but in the end he’d let Reed take her to Leon. She climbed the steps, heels clicking softly. At the top she paused, steadying her breath. She rang the bell once. The door opened almost instantly, as if Leon had been standing behind it.He looked older tonight. Gray threading his temples, suit jacket unbuttoned. Yet his eyes were sharp and predatory.“Jessica,” he said slowly. “Home at last.” he smiled.She held his gaze. “I’m not here to stay. We need to talk.”His mouth curled faintly. “
Next Day...Jessica sat in the back seat, her phone resting in her lap, screen dark. She stared out at the skeletal trees, hands curled into fists inside her coat pockets. The lawyer was here. Somewhere in this remote clinic, hiding behind a false name and a crumbling brick façade. If they didn’t get him out tonight, Leon would.William sat beside her, dark-clad, his face half in shadow. In the front seat, Reed — his head of security — drove with one hand, the other resting on a holstered weapon.“You’re sure he’s inside?” Jessica asked, voice low.Reed nodded. “Room 312. He checked in under the name Edward Barron. We’ve got eyes on the hallway. No sign of Leon’s men yet.”Jessica exhaled, fogging the window. “Yet.”William glanced at her. “Once we’re in, stay behind me. Reed’s team will sweep the exits.”She gave a short nod. “I can handle myself.”“I know you can,” he murmured, “but tonight, let me handle it.”The SUV rolled to a stop behind the building. Reed killed the engine. Je
Jessica tightened the clasp on her diamond cuff as the black SUV slid through the private drive of the Clarendon Hotel. Beyond the tinted glass, a sea of camera flashes and velvet ropes glittered. The premiere wasn’t set to begin for another hour, yet the sidewalk was already lined with fans and photographers, their phones as they took pictures and videos.She inhaled slowly, feeling the silk of her gown slide against her skin. The fabric was deep emerald, cut to skim her waist and fall in a liquid ripple to the floor. “Ready?” William asked beside her. His voice was quiet, but it thrummed with something unspoken — alertness, maybe even tension.Jessica turned to him, studying the strong line of his jaw. He was impeccable as always in a tailored black suit with his hair sleeked back.“As I’ll ever be,” she murmured.William’s gaze flicked to her hand resting on her lap. “Nervous?”“I’m thinking,” she said. “About Leon. About tonight. About everything.”His thumb brushed her knuckles.







