Sophia blinked slowly, adjusting to the soft light filtering into the room. She felt the unfamiliar comfort of the bed beneath her and noted the elegant ceiling with its polished chandelier, far too refined for her usual surroundings. Sunlight slipped through sheer curtains, casting delicate patterns across the floor. Her heart pounded as she took in her surroundings, trying to piece together how she'd ended up here. Memories from the previous night were foggy, just flashes at best.
A note on the bedside table caught her eye. Reaching over, her hand shook slightly as she picked it up. The handwriting was cold, detached, yet unmistakably his.
"Sorry for putting you in danger. I'll make them pay heavily."
"Your breakfast will be ready when you wake up. The car will be waiting outside."
It was Alexander's writing. She smiled at first, but then, a rush of memories struck like lightning, freezing her expression. Fragmented memories began to surface: going with Alexander to meet his client, the unexpected call from Marcus, slipping away to see him, and then the unsettling way he'd acted before everything went hazy after a drink he'd offered her.
"He drugged me…" she whispered, piecing it together. She remembered him almost taking advantage, then Alexander's timely arrival. She recalled being carried to his car, her head resting on his shoulder. But beyond that, nothing.
"How did I end up here... alone?" Her cheeks flushed as a thought crossed her mind. "Could Alexander have…?"
Looking down at herself, she quickly checked her clothes. Relief flooded through her as she realized her dress from the night before was gone, replaced by something fresh and comfortable. Still, a pang of embarrassment hit her. Had Alexander… helped her change? She reached down, nervously confirming everything was intact, and let out a shaky breath.
Sophia felt her face turn crimson, imagining him in that moment, carefully laying out clean clothes with his usual composed expression. She closed her eyes, a slight smile breaking through her embarrassment. "It can't be him…" she murmured, but a flutter in her chest betrayed her thoughts. Shaking off her imaginings, she stood, gathering herself.
She saw a set of neatly folded clothes on a nearby chair. Alexander's touch was everywhere in the details. Grateful, she dressed quickly, and, after steadying herself, stepped out of the room. A waiter was waiting just outside with her breakfast.
"Good morning, ma'am," he greeted her quietly. "Your breakfast is ready."
Sophia gestured for him to bring it inside. "Please, come in."
The young man stepped in, balancing a tray carefully. His gaze stayed respectfully lowered as he set the tray on the table.
"Thank you, this is perfect," she said with a kind smile.
He bowed slightly. "It's my pleasure, ma'am," he replied before slipping out.
Hunger took over as she looked at the beautifully arranged breakfast. With a sigh of relief, she began eating, savoring each bite.
***
In Alexander's office, he'd just wrapped up a meeting and was sifting through documents, his mind not fully present. A knock broke his concentration.
"Come in," he called, eyes still on his papers.
Mark, his assistant, entered with an amused look. "Boss, guess who applied for a job at Allure Fashion?"
Alexander barely glanced up. "Who?"
Mark's tone turned serious. "Your wife, Sophia."
Alexander's gaze shifted, his expression caught between surprise and mild amusement. "Sophia? She applied at Allure?"
Mark nodded. "You'd asked me to keep an eye out in case she needed anything, so I noticed it."
A small smile crept onto Alexander's face. "Shall we help her out?" Mark asked, a hint of mischief in his voice.
Alexander shook his head. "No, she wouldn't appreciate that."
"Understood," Mark replied. "But I'll keep an eye on the hiring process and step in if anything's needed."
Alexander nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Good. Just… stay in the background for now."
With a respectful bow, Mark left the office.
***
Meanwhile, across the city at the Hawthorne Group, Pablo was in a tense discussion with Marcus. That morning alone, they'd lost two major investors, each withdrawing without explanation. As Pablo hung up on yet another call, his face showed the strain.
"Good morning, Pablo Hawthorne speaking."
"Pablo, it's Dennis Carter," the voice on the line replied, belonging to one of their oldest investors.
"Dennis! Good to hear from you," Pablo replied, injecting some warmth into his tone. "How can I help?"
There was a pause, then Dennis sighed. "Pablo, I'm calling to inform you I'll be pulling out of Hawthorne Group."
Pablo's grip on the receiver tightened. "What? Dennis, we've had a long relationship. If something's wrong, please—let's discuss it."
Dennis's tone softened but remained firm. "It's not about you, Pablo. My hands are tied. I just… can't afford to stay invested in Hawthorne."
Desperation crept into Pablo's voice. "Dennis, come on. There must be a solution here."
Dennis sighed again. "My decision is final, Pablo. I'm truly sorry."
The line went dead, leaving Pablo staring at the receiver. He turned to Marcus, his face pale with confusion.
"We need you to handle the final investor meeting," Pablo said, his tone hardening. "You're the one who can make sure it goes smoothly."
Just as Marcus nodded, Pablo's phone rang again. Another investor, this time an older partner, informed him of a withdrawal, citing "personal reasons." The calls kept coming, each one ending with yet another canceled partnership.
In less than an hour, five investors had backed out, each refusing to explain their decision. It felt surreal.
Desperate, Pablo dialed his father's number. Raphael picked up almost immediately.
"Pablo, what's wrong?"
"Dad, it's bad. Six investors have pulled out. They won't say why!"
Raphael's tone grew grave. "That sounds like more than coincidence. Could someone be targeting us?"
"A competitor, maybe?" Pablo guessed, though doubt lingered in his voice.
"I'm coming over," Raphael replied, hanging up.
Within an hour, Raphael arrived, his presence commanding the room despite his years away from the company.
"Have we upset anyone lately?" he asked, looking between Pablo and Marcus.
"No, we've been careful. No risky partnerships," Pablo replied, rubbing his temples.
Just then, another call came through. Pablo answered, recognizing the voice of Evelyn Price, one of their newer partners.
"Evelyn! Good to hear from you. How can I help?"
She hesitated. "Pablo… I'm afraid I have to end our partnership."
"Not you too," he whispered. "Evelyn, please, help me understand why."
"I'm truly sorry, Pablo," she replied. "But there are powerful people warning against association with Hawthorne."
"Can't we work something out?" he pleaded.
Her tone remained apologetic. "I'll pay any penalties, but I have to go."
Pablo barely managed a goodbye before the line went dead.
Another call. This time, Gregory Hollis, a longtime partner. "Pablo… I have to cancel our partnership as well."
Pablo's grip on the phone tightened. "Gregory, just tell me what's happening."
"I can't explain it, Pablo. But staying with Hawthorne is too risky right now. I'm sorry."
As the calls continued, Raphael's face grew weary, his eyes shifting to Marcus, then back to Pablo. "Could your wife or daughter have caused any trouble?"
Pablo hesitated. "They've been under strict watch. I doubt they've stirred anything."
Another call came through, and this time, Pablo recognized the voice of Zach, an older investor. After a few tense words, Zach admitted, "Pablo, I'm sorry, but your family has offended someone very powerful."
Raphael took the phone from Pablo, his voice steady. "Zach, who is this person?"
A heavy silence, then Zach replied, "I can't say. Just… be cautious." The line went dead, and Raphael exchanged a somber look with Pablo and Marcus, the weight of their uncertainty thickening the air.