2

ALEXANDER

In the middle of the night, a private Boeing helicopter descended onto the rooftop of New York’s tallest residential tower. The blades sliced through the silence, stirring the cold air into sharp gusts that swept across the glass skyline.

As the door slid open, I stepped out.

The wind tugged at my coat, but I didn’t pause. My suit, tailored by a designer, fit like a second skin. I adjusted the cuffs and looked around—calm and in control. From this height, the city didn’t just look small; it looked like it belonged to me. Cars were scattered toys, and people flickered like tiny sparks. This building is mine.

I live on the top floor, where no one else dares to dream. The penthouse is called The Statement—not just for its name, but because that’s what it is. It tells the world who I am without me saying a word.

Inside, the lights flickered on as I walked in. Glass walls wrapped the space, offering an endless view of the sleepless city. I stood for a moment, silent, watching the lights below.

I’m Alexander Knight.

Owner of Enamore, the city’s most sought-after fashion brand. The youngest name to dominate the industry. People talk about my success, my discipline, my control. But what they don’t see is what it takes to stay on top. I don’t rest. I don’t slow down. I don’t let anyone else take the lead.

This city might glitter for others. But for me? It listens.

They call me the most eligible bachelor in the country.

Every socialite, every model, every rising star wants a piece of my attention. Some just want to be seen with me. Most are desperate to end up in my bed. I don’t care either way.

As I stepped off the helicopter, my manager was already waiting near the rooftop entrance.

“Hello, Sir,” he greeted, his tone smooth—almost too practiced.

“Is everything arranged for the party?” I asked, my voice cold and sharp.

“Yes. I sent invitations to all major business competitors,” he replied.

“Change the theme,” I said flatly. “Make it a masquerade ball.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Sir, the party is tomorrow. Everything’s already finalized. Changing it now would be—”

I turned just enough for him to see the look in my eyes.

“Who am I?” I asked.

“You’re Alexander Hunt,” he said quietly.

 “And?”

 “You never take no for an answer.” I didn’t need to say anything more.

“I’ll handle it,” he added quickly, lowering his head. “The theme will be changed as you wish.”

I walked past him and into the penthouse, the heavy door shutting behind me with a soft thud.

Outside, he stood for a second, unfazed. He didn’t expect kindness. No one who worked closely with me did. With a sigh, he turned and pulled out his phone, already typing an urgent email to the event teams.

He headed back to the elevator, taking it down from the 132nd floor to the ground — the message sent before the doors even closed.

Inside, I loosened my tie and stepped into the quiet calm of my home.

I smiled, liking how I shaped everything around me — how even one word from me could flip everything overnight. I never needed anyone to open doors for me. I built this empire without my father’s name, without his shadow looming over my success. 

And I chose to live alone.

Or maybe… I never really had a choice.

My mother died when I was five. I don’t remember her voice clearly anymore — just fragments. A soft laugh, the smell of lavender, the way her hand felt in mine. And then… nothing.

When the emptiness she left behind began to grow inside me, my father filled it in the only way he knew — he brought home another woman.

She became his wife. But never my mother.

I learned early that titles mean nothing. A woman may wear a ring, live in your house, and still be a stranger. She didn’t hate me. She just didn’t care. She loved my father. She adored her own son — my stepbrother. But me? I was just a reminder of someone who had left too soon.

Still, I loved my little stepbrother. He was innocent. Maybe in trying to love him, I was chasing a piece of the love I lost.

But that’s the thing with love — it never stayed.

As I grew older, I searched for it in faces, voices, soft smiles, and whispered promises. I dated, slept around, and fell for illusions. Until reality reminded me — love is a myth. A pretty word people use to feel less alone. A bird with broken wings. 

My family taught me everything I needed to know about survival. No softness, no space to fall. Only expectations and cold lessons.

That’s what made me the man I am today — sharp, ruthless, unshakable.

Women? I use them. I don’t love them. I never will.

 Thousands have tried to touch my heart. Thousands have failed.

I have only one aim — to rise higher. To crush every obstacle. To take over everything that once made me feel small.

I kicked off my shoes and stripped off my clothes as I walked into the bathroom.

After a long, steaming shower, I stepped into my walk-in closet — a room so large it could pass for a boutique. Rows of designer suits, handmade shoes, luxury coats, and every accessory imaginable lined the walls. Each piece was a masterpiece, custom-made, collected over years of building a life no one else could even dream of.

From the corner shelf, I pulled out a pair of exclusive boxers and slipped them on. Even kings strip down to basics when night falls.

Whether rich or poor, in the end, all a man really needs is a warm meal and a place to rest his head.

I headed to the kitchen, where my chef had already prepared dinner. The aroma was perfect — rich and comforting. I wasn’t in the mood for a full meal. I took a few bites and poured myself a glass of red wine, letting it swirl before taking a sip.

Then I moved to the living area, where my television lit up the wall like a personal theater. I flipped through channels aimlessly.

I sat at the edge of my bed. My phone buzzed a second later.

I glanced at it — and for the first time today, I smiled.

It was from Esrael, asking about the trip.

Esrael — my business partner, and the only man who truly knew me.

He was the only one who ever looked past the surface. The only one who saw through the arrogance, the control, the silence. He knew that beneath it all… there was still a heart, no matter how deeply I had buried it.

While the world either feared me or envied me, Esrael never bowed. He didn’t flatter me or pretend. He treated me like a man — not a title, not a brand.

“Hey man, how was your trip?” Esrael asked over the video call.

“You know me,” I replied with a smirk, leaning back in my chair.

“I know you got the contract,” he said, raising a brow. “I’m asking about the trip.”

He gave me a knowing look and winked — he wasn’t talking about business anymore.

“Ahh… yeah,” I answered casually, hiding the grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“No way. Don’t tell me — you actually got his daughter?” Esrael practically shouted, eyes wide with amusement.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said with a shrug. “She came to my hotel room on her own.”

“Damn, man! You’re a real hunter,” he said, half-jealous, half in awe. “I want every detail tomorrow.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I laughed, shaking my head.

We ended the call, and I walked toward my bedroom.

In the mirror, I caught my reflection — calm, sharp, untouched. The man who never lost.

I stared into my own eyes and spoke the truth only I could say.

 “A winner.” Then I climbed into bed and slipped under the blanket, letting the silence of the night wrap around me.