Alex's condo sat on the thirty-seven floor above the hotel , glass walls stretching from marble floors to high ceilings, sunlight pouring in through automatic shades that adjusted themselves with quiet precision. It wasn't his main estate. It wasn't where he held meetings or entertained investors.
This was the private one, the quiet one.
The staff came and went on strict schedules coordinated through security. They cleaned while he was out.— never overlapping with his routine. He disliked unnecessary presence. Disliked feeling observed.
The only exception had ever been Mrs. Elena Petrova — the woman who had raised him after his parents' world had fractured in ways no child should witness. She still came by occasionally, though less now as she visits her grandchild more often. She respected his space, but she had never been afraid of him.
This morning, however, he was alone.
Alex stood in his kitchen, sleeves rolled up, staring at the espresso machine like it had personally offended him. He had slept, the realization still unsettled him.Without pills, Without waking. Without the usual tension carved into his spine. He poured coffee into a matte black mug, the dark liquid steady despite the storm of thought behind his eyes, just then the door unlocked behind him. There are only two people had access without announcement.
"Is that coffee or are you finally trying to poison yourself slowly?" a voice drawled.
Alex didn't turn but replied,"It's coffee, Damian."
Damian Keller entered first — tall, sharp features, suit already pressed despite the early hour. His presence was controlled, cold, calculated. If Alex was the shadow, Damian was the blade. Behind him came chaos.
"Why does it smell like a luxury funeral in here?" the second voice complained.
Mason Reyes stumbled slightly as he kicked off his sneakers near the door, nearly tripping over nothing. He caught himself with exaggerated drama.
"See? This place hates me."
"It has taste," Damian replied dryly.
Mason scoffed. "Says the man who alphabetizes his socks."
"They're color-coded," Damian corrected.
"Same thing," Mason jabbed back.
Alex finally turned, mug in hand. "You two broke into my morning for this?"
Mason squinted at him.
"You look… rested."
Damian's eyes sharpened immediately.
"You do look rested."
Alex took a slow sip of coffee, unfazed.
"I slept."
Silence followed.as they try to comprehend what he meant by slept.
Mason blinked. "Define slept."
"I closed my eyes and did not wake up every forty minutes." Alex replied.
Damian leaned slightly against the counter, arms crossing. "Without medication?"
Alex didn't answer immediately.
Mason gasped dramatically. "Oh my God. He's cured. Somebody call the Vatican."
"Shut up," Damian muttered.
Alex set the mug down.
"Yes. Without medication."
Both men went quiet trying to figure out what this meant they know about his struggle to sleep, they had grown up together. Different backgrounds, different traumas, same fire forged through proximity to power and damage. They knew what that meant.
Damian studied him carefully. "Why?"
Alex held his gaze evenly.
"There was someone here."
Mason's eyes widened theatrically. "Oh. Oh no. A someone?"
Damian ignored Mason's antics. "You brought someone here."
"Yes," came Alex's short response
"And?" Damien asked as it is not the first time he had brought someone over, he wondered what could be so different.
Alex hesitated they noticed — a rare thing.
Mason pointed accusingly. "That. That right there. That is hesitation. Since when do you hesitate?"
Alex exhaled slowly. "She was different."
Mason placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "He said she."
Damian's voice remained calm. "Different how?"
Alex leaned back against the counter, fingers loosely wrapped around his mug.
"She didn't know who I was."
Mason snorted. "That's either refreshing or insulting."
"She didn't care," Alex continued. "She refused to tell me her name."
Damian's brow lifted slightly. "Refused?"
"She said I wasn't her type,"Alex stated
Mason burst out laughing so loudly it echoed against the glass walls. "Oh I like her already. What did you do? Short-circuit?"
Alex's jaw tightened slightly, though amusement flickered beneath it.
"She wasn't performing," he said. "She wasn't calculating. She was…" He searched for the correct word. "Unfiltered."
Damian's gaze sharpened further. "You're intrigued."
"I'm observant." He interjected
"You're intrigued," Damian repeated.
Mason leaned forward across the island. "Did she rob you?"
"No."
"Did she blackmail you?"
"No."
"Did she at least leave a shoe behind like Cinderella?"
Alex's eyes darkened slightly.
"She left."
Damian stilled. "Left?" He asked shocked
"Before I woke up." Alex said not believing it himself
Mason blinked. "You slept through someone leaving?"
"Yes." He has been asking himself that question since he woke up
Both men stared at him.
Damian spoke first. "That hasn't happened since we were seventeen."
"I'm aware." Alex replied
Mason shook his head slowly. "So let me get this straight. A girl you don't know, who doesn't know you're worth more than several small countries, calls you not her type, refuses to tell you her name, leaves before sunrise with out you realising… and you're standing here making your own coffee like some tortured poet."
Alex's gaze cooled. "Is that your professional analysis?"
"Yes. I charge by the insult."
Damian's tone cut through the humor. "You want to find her."
It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
"Why?" Damian pressed.
Alex didn't answer immediately. The silence stretched long enough for even Mason to stop joking.
"Because," Alex said evenly, "I slept."
That landed heavier than any confession of attraction could have.
Mason's expression softened, just slightly. "So what's the plan?" He asked
"I already set it in motion." Alex replied
Damian nodded once, approving the efficiency. "Be careful."
Alex's eyes flickered with something darker. "I always am."
Mason clapped his hands suddenly. "Well. This is officially the most exciting thing to happen in months. If she humbles you, I'm sending her flowers."
"You don't know her," Damian said flatly.
"Exactly. Mystery bouquet."
Alex allowed the faintest hint of a smile.
For the first time in years, something unpredictable had entered his world.
And he intended to understand it.
**********************************************
Across the city, Ava sat at her desk staring at the same spreadsheet for ten minutes without processing a single number.
Her mind kept drifting.
Not to Liam.
That was what unsettled her most.
For years, every quiet moment belonged to him. Every daydream circled back to his smile, his voice, his familiar presence.
But today—
Today her thoughts were elsewhere.
She remembered the weight of strong hands at her waist. The firmness of his chest beneath her palms. The controlled way he moved, like he was holding back something powerful and choosing not to unleash it.
Heat curled low in her stomach at the memory.
She shifted slightly in her chair, pressing her thighs together unconsciously.
What had she done?
She had lost her virginity to a man whose last name she didn't know.
A stranger.
And worse — she had whispered Liam's name.
Her cheeks burned at the memory.
Yet when she replayed the night now, she remembered something else.
The way he had said, "Look at me."
And she had.
And for that split second, she hadn't seen Liam.
She had seen him.
Her breath caught slightly.
"Earth to Ava."
She jolted upright.
Across from her desk stood Julian Hart — perfectly styled hair, fitted blazer, expressive eyebrows raised dramatically.
"Girl you look like you just replayed something sinful," he said, lowering himself into the chair opposite her without invitation.
"I did not." She replied nervously
Julian gasped softly. "Oh, you absolutely did. I've known you for four years. That face? That is not spreadsheet face. That is 'I made questionable life choices' face."
She covered her face briefly with her hands.
He leaned forward immediately. "What happened?"
She hesitated.
Julian knew everything about Liam. Every unspoken crush. Every suppressed emotion.
"I did something stupid," she muttered.
Julian's eyes widened. "Define stupid. Did you finally confess to Liam?"
"No."
"Did you punch Claire?"
"No!...why would I do that?"
"Then what?"
She lowered her voice. "I went out after I left his place."
Julian narrowed his eyes. "Alone?"
"Yes."
"And?"
She swallowed.
"I met someone."
Julian froze.
"You met… someone?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"I don't remember parts of it."
Julian's mouth fell open. "Ava."
"I wasn't completely out of it," she rushed to explain. "I remember enough. He took me to a hotel because I passed out. And then… I woke up. And I—"
Julian stood abruptly. "We are not having this conversation in this office. Get your bag."
"Julian—"
"Dinner. Now. Before I combust."
Two hours later, they sat in a quiet restaurant booth, dim lighting casting shadows across the table.
Julian leaned forward, eyes sharp.
"Start from the beginning."
She told him everything.
The bar. The conversation. Passing out. The hotel. Whispering Liam's name.
Julian listened without interrupting, though his expressions shifted dramatically throughout.
When she finished, he sat back slowly.
"You lost your virginity," he said carefully.
"Yes."
"To a stranger."
"Yes."
"While thinking about Liam."
She winced. "Yes."
Julian dragged a hand down his face.
"And you don't even know his name?"
"No."
He stared at her for a long moment.
Then—
"Was he hot?"
She choked on her drink. "Julian!"
"It's relevant."
She hesitated.
"…Yes."
"How hot?"
"Julian."
"How. Hot."
She closed her eyes briefly.
"Very."
"Like gym hot or mysterious billionaire hot?"
She blinked.
"More… intimidating."
Julian leaned back slowly. "Oh no."
"What?" She asked scared
"That's worse."
She groaned.
"I don't even know why I was thinking about Liam. For the first time, he didn't even feel central in my head afterward. I just—" She hesitated. "I remember how it felt."
Julian's expression softened.
"And?"
"It wasn't empty."
That surprised her most.
She expected regret to suffocate her.
Instead, there was confusion.
And heat.
Before Julian could respond, her phone buzzed.
She glanced down.
Her boss.
"Can you come to my office first thing tomorrow morning? I have a personal assignment for you."
Her stomach dropped.
Julian leaned forward. "What is it?"
She looked up slowly.
"I don't know."
And for some reason—
The word personal didn't feel like a coincidence.