Mirena strode into the Hills exactly one hour after leaving the Pierce Estate.

The restaurant was as pristine as she remembered-floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the skyline and the scent of aged wine mingling with faint citrus polish.

As she slid into one of the chairs, she glanced at her watch and scoffed silently.

She'd arrived five minutes earlier than the agreed time. George, however, was nowhere to be seen.

However, twenty minutes later, he finally walked into the restaurant. But he wasn't alone.

Hanging off his arm like some cheap handbag, was none other than the lady who'd turned her entire life upside down in less than a night.

Camille.

Of course, she thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the sight of them. She was his first love, of course he wouldn't hesitate to show her off to the world.

Unlike her.

Something about that thought left a dull sting that she immediately brushed off, crossing her legs elegantly as she watched them walk towards the table like some fairy-tale couple drunk on their own illusion.

As they drew closer, George finally looked away from Camille and for a second, something flickered in his eyes, before it was quickly overshadowed by the familiar look of disdain.

That look morphed into tenderness as he stopped to pull out a chair for Camille with that same gentlemanly precision he'd never used on her.

Seeing that, Mirena gave a bitter laugh dripping with mockery.

"What's this?" She asked calmly, dragging her eyes from George to Camille who still clung to his arm. "We're here to discuss something important and you brought along your mistress?" She arched one of her brows. "Did you mistake this restaurant for a brothel?"

That got the couples attention, pulling them out of their fairy-tale illusion at last.

When George turned to look at her, his eyes frosted over and his voice lacked the tenderness it had held just seconds before.

"You've always had a way with words, Mirena, never stopping to think before you speak. It's no wonder I could never fall for you."

"Georgy!" Camille chided beside him, her voice and composure embodying the very best of demure innocence. "Don't say that to Mirena. It's not her fault if being an honest person makes her unattractive."

After saying that, she turned to look at Mirena, spotting a guiltless smile as she added. "Aren't I right, sister?"

The mockery in her tone pulled at the corners of Mirena's lips.

She chuckled lightly and leaned back in her chair. "Camille," she stared, mimicking Camille's sweet tone. "If I wanted someone who built her self-esteem between men's sheets to defend me, I would have asked you."

The smile on Camille's face faltered almost immediately. Suddenly, a loud sound echoed in the space around them.

"Enough Mirena," George warned, palm pressed flat against the table. "Don't cross the line."

She tilted her head and met the glare he was sending her way. In the past, she would have played the good wife, lowered her head and apologized immediately.

Gone were those days.

"What? Did I say something wrong?" she asked, her tone dripping in sarcasm.

Suddenly, she leaned forward, placing her chin against the back of her palm and examining Camille like she was something incredible.

The sight of her, all innocent and dulled up, hurt Mirena's eyes to stare at. But she had to admit.

"Mistress material indeed," she blurted out without hesitation.

George's expression hardened. A muscle in his jaw ticked and the hand laying flat on the table folded into a ball.

"You don't like that title, do you?" Mirena asked the moment she noticed his reaction. "Then sign the divorce papers as soon as possible and save her the embarrassment."

Surprise flashed in George's eyes.

Upon coming here after getting Mirena's call, he expected her to apologize for the scene she caused yesterday, for ignoring his calls all throughout the night; he expected her to beg, cry-cling like the woman who once waited for him every night, no matter how late he came home.

But this version of Mirena? Cold, composed, unrecognizable. It pinched something in his chest.

"Fine," he said, dragging a document from his briefcase and sliding it across the table. "Here. The divorce agreement. At Camille's insistence, I added a generous settlement for you."

Mirena picked up the document, eyes gliding over the figures after flipping it open.

After a second, her lips curved.

"You call this generous?" She tossed the agreement back on the table like it was a joke. "That's not even enough to buy a penthouse of my standard." She muttered.

Her words pulled an amused laugh from George. Someone who had never seen more money than groceries money, was rejecting five million dollars.

Was this her new way of trying to get his attention?

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Mirena slapped a file of her own on the table.

His eyes drifted down to it. "What's this?"

"Divorce Agreement," she announced, her voice cool, almost cordial. "Except on my terms."

"Your terms?" He parroted.

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, an air of arrogant confidence surrounding her as she spoke. "I waive all compensation. I don't want your chicken cent."

Both George and Camille blinked, taken aback.

"However," she continued, tone softening to something far more dangerous, "I am reserving my right to take legal action against you and the Sterlings for slandering me-accusing me of fraud, remember? Of impersonating." she paused and glanced at Camille, addressing her with a nudge of her head. "That."

A smile kissed the corners of her lips when Camille's eyes twitched and the edges of her ears turned red with contained fury.

George however, scoffed. "Still putting on a show. You always loved the drama." His tone held s heavy note of dismissal.

"Go on, act out, put on a show and entertain me for once in your life. I'll clap for you once you've gotten tired of this act."

He rose after saying that, grabbing Camille's hand with one hand, and the divorce agreement with the other.

"You'll be hearing from my lawyer. Millie, let's go, we don't want to be late."

With that, they both walked out of the restaurant. Mirena watched their backs, then her eyes dropped to their entwined hands and she scoffed.

How romantic, she sarcastically thought, reaching into the pocket of Alexander's coat and pulling out her phone.

Her fingers glided across her screen before hovering above one number for a few seconds.

Then, with a sigh, she clicked on the number and pressed the phone against her ear.

On the second ring, the phone was answered and surprise dripped from the voice that filtered through the other end.

"Mirena? Rena, is that really you?"

A smile crossed Mirena's lips at the familiar voice of Ada Campbell, her best friend.

"It is," she said softly. "How have you been, Ada?"

"Mirena!" Ada exclaimed, sounding every bit of the bundle of joy Mirena remembered her to be. "You finally called after all these years! You finally remembered us."

"Mhm," Mirena hummed, turning her gaze to the window. "I finally realized that it's time I stop giving my attention to the wrong set of people. I apologize for going incognito all these years. I'll make it up to you by catching you up on everything. Bills on me."

"If you insist then," there was a mischievous pause in her words and briefly, Mirena regretted saying those words. "I know just the place for us to meet up."

An hour after the phone call Mirena had with Ada, she stood by a yacht dock, staring up at a super yacht.

Her eyes scanned the structure with mild awe and thick nostalgia.

She'd almost forgotten what luxury truly felt like. After getting married to George and becoming a doormat for the Sterling family, she'd lived a middle-class life.

Despite all the wealth the Sterling family possessed, she wasn't given luxurious treatment. And as for George? He also allowed his sister to issue funds to her.

And well, we can all guess how that went!

Thank Goodness that chapter was finally over.

"Rena!" Ada's familiar voice pulled Mirena out of her thoughts.

A smile kissed her lips as she watched her best friend rush down the dock-black bob hair going wild in the wind.

When she finally got close enough, she threw herself into Mirena's arms, offering a bone-crushing hug.

Mirena let out a soft grunt, then a laugh, returning the embrace without restraint. In Ada's arms, she felt something she hadn't in years-unconditional warmth, support, and a love that asked for nothing in return.

She really had been a fool to abandon this life, all for George and the Sterling family.

"Jesus, girl, I've missed you!" Ada beamed as she pulled back, her sharp eyes sweeping over Mirena's outfit. "And this look," she added, a knowing gleam in her expression.

Mirena's smile grew. Thank goodness she'd stopped by a boutique on the way.

The moment Ada mentioned an exclusive yacht party-the kind attended only by top-tier socialites and old-money elites-Mirena knew the simple clothes she'd worn to leave Alexander's wouldn't do.

Thirty minutes and one power-shopping spree later, she stood transformed: a sharp leather pencil skirt, a sleek strapless crop top, knee-high boots, and-still draped over her shoulders-Alexander's tailored coat.

"That outfit's fire," Ada complimented as she entwined their fingers and began pulling her towards the yacht.

"God, you have no idea how long I've waited for this," Ada, as usual, carried on as they stepped on board.

Mirena allowed her gaze to drift across the yacht's interior. Soft gold and midnight blue tones glowed under low lighting, every surface polished to a liquid sheen. The air hummed with muted conversations and the clink of crystal-a familiar symphony of wealth and exclusion. A faint, knowing smile touched her lips. This was Ada's world, and for a moment, it felt like coming home.

But her smile wavered as she noticed the stares. Guests glanced her way, some squinting in curiosity, others with dawning recognition. Whispers began to weave through the music, hands lifting to mask murmured comments.

With a calm exhale, Mirena turned back to Ada, who had just procured two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter.

"After all these years," Ada said, handing her a glass, "you're finally back to being you."

Mirena accepted it with a graceful nod. "Well," she replied, taking a measured sip, "I suppose shedding parasites does wonders for the complexion."

Ada rolled her eyes in mock sympathy. "Parasites? Darling, George and the Sterlings were a full-blown infection. You're lucky you made it out before they rotted your soul completely."

"A bit late, but I finally did," Mirena conceded, the champagne bubbles fizzing softly on her tongue. "Better late than never, right?"

"Better late than never," Ada echoed, her smile warm and unwavering. "Congratulations, then. You've finally ditched the leeches and returned to where you belong." She lifted her glass slightly. "Welcome back, Ms. Crowne."

The old alias stirred something deep in Mirena's chest-a thrill she had long suppressed for George's sake.

A genuine smile returned to her lips. "Thank you, Ada."

She followed her friend toward what she assumed would be a relaxing spa session-their original plan. But the whispers only grew louder as they entered the main salon.

"Isn't that Ms. Crowne?"

"What's she doing here? Is she making a comeback?"

This time, no one bothered to lower their voices.

"You're still a hot topic, I see," Ada murmured as they settled into recliners, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Mirena simply chuckled, unbothered. She shrugged off Alexander's coat, sank into the plush chair, and closed her eyes. She hadn't come for gossip or past dramas-only for peace, a good spa day, and her best friend's easy company.

But Ada, of course, had other plans.

"By the way," Ada began, slipping off her sheer kimono jacket to reveal a sleek crop top and shorts, "we're gambling tonight."

Mirena cracked one eye open. "We?"

"Don't give me that look," Ada pouted. "Ryan's hosting a high-stakes game downstairs, and he may have. persuaded me to join."

"Let me guess," Mirena said, sitting up slowly. "You're losing again?"

Ada's guilty grin said it all. "In my defense, they're cheating!"

She leaned in, grabbing Mirena's arm with desperate enthusiasm. "Come on, Rena, help me out here. I've been fighting alone for years-I need my partner back." She batted her eyelashes, bottom lip pushed out in an exaggerated plea. "Please?"

Mirena watched her for a moment, then gently pulled her hand away, a fond smile playing on her lips. "You're incorrigible."

"But you love me anyway, don't you?" Ada beamed.

Shaking her head in amusement, Mirena downed the last of her champagne. "You owe me another spa date. Let's go."

She rose to her feet, and Ada followed eagerly, their coats draped over her arm like a happy attendant.

"Let's go make them cry, Rena!" Ada cheered in a hushed voice. "Let's show them the queen is back-and their reign is over!"

Mirena laughed softly, but as they stepped out of the spa area, she walked straight into a solid chest and stumbled back a step.

Before she could stumble, strong hands caught her waist, steadying her effortlessly.

"Mirena?"

That voice-deep, familiar-sent a flicker of surprise through her. She looked up into warm, knowing eyes.

"Logan." Her lips curved into a genuine smile. The man who had once been her business partner-and so much more-stood before her, unchanged yet different.

"Hey," she greeted, her voice softer than she intended.

"When Ada said you were back, I almost didn't believe it," he said, his tone as smooth as she remembered. "But here you are."

She smiled faintly. "And you've grown taller." The old tease came naturally, as if no time had passed.

Logan leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Life's been good. Better now that you're here."

He flashed that smile-the one that had always disarmed her-and she opened her arms instinctively. He didn't hesitate, wrapping her in a warm embrace, his face buried against her neck.

"I've missed you, Renny," he murmured. "Welcome back."

Her hand came up to stroke his back gently. "Thank you, Logan."

Beside them, Ada cleared her throat loudly. "I'm here too, you know."

Logan lifted his head and offered her a casual wave. "Ada."

"That's all I get? No hug? Fine then-Rena, let's go. We've got a game to win."

"Where are you headed?" Logan asked, his hand lingering comfortably at the small of Mirena's back.

"Gambling," Mirena replied. "Ada's on a losing streak."

Logan nodded slowly, a knowing look in his eyes. "Ah."

"I'm coming with you," he said.

When Mirena nodded, Ada didn't object. The three of them fell into easy conversation as they moved toward the casino-a familiar trio reunited.

But from the shadows of the upper deck, someone watched.

Alexander's knuckles whitened around his glass. With a sharp snap, the stem broke in his grip, yet he didn't flinch. His jaw tightened, his gaze locked on the scene below-on her.

On them.

Logan's hand resting possessively on Mirena's back. The ease in her smile. The intimacy he hadn't seen in years.

Something dark and possessive twisted deep within him.

In the next instant, he hurled the shattered glass against the nearest wall, where it exploded into a thousand glittering pieces.

Alexander's assistant flinched as the sound of glass shattering filled the air.

His gaze darted from the glittering shards of what had been an eight-thousand-dollar Baccarat crystal glass to his boss's rigid posture. Alexander sat perfectly still, his eyes burning with cold fire, fixed on something-or someone-beyond the panoramic windows of the yacht's VIP lounge.

"Sir," the assistant began cautiously, his voice hushed. "That was. quite an expensive glass. Was it really necessary to take your frustration out on it?"

That little toss just cost more than two days of his salary.

Alexander didn't bother to look at him.

"It's mine to break," he replied, his voice dangerously soft. "If I wish to break it, I will."

Having worked for Alexander for five intense months, Jeremy knew his boss had no concept of monetary value.

Born into old money and a self-made empire, Alexander dealt in figures so vast that eight thousand dollars was a rounding error. Still, Jeremy's frugal heart ached-a trait ingrained in him by his grandmother, no matter how many luxuries this job exposed him to.

"Of course, it's yours to handle as you see fit, Sir. But such. public displays could attract the wrong kind of attention. The tabloids might spin stories if they caught wind of this."

Alexander finally turned, his gaze sharp enough to cut glass. "What stories?"

Jeremy swallowed hard. Why did he open his mouth? But he knew he had to answer. Based on what-or whom-his boss had been staring at so intensely, it wasn't hard to guess the cause.

"They might. speculate that you're upset over a woman. That perhaps you. desire someone you cannot have?"

"Ridiculous!"

The word was a whip crack, colder and fiercer than a winter storm.

Yet, against his own will, Alexander's eyes were drawn back to her.

Even in the crowded salon, Mirena stood out-a splash of sharp elegance in a sea of calculated glamour. His gaze traveled over her once more, tracing the way the leather skirt hugged her hips, how the crop top revealed just a hint of skin.

Desire her? Had he lost his mind?

However, the next second, his jaw tightened.

Below, Logan leaned in, his lips close to Mirena's ear. She listened, then tipped her head back and laughed-a sight so effortless and bright it struck Alexander like a physical blow.

His eyes twitched.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees instantly. Jeremy didn't need anyone to tell him his boss's mood had just darkened further.

His mind raced, debating whether he should say something. If the boss is really interested in the woman downstairs, standing here brooding won't help. But reason warned him that voicing that thought might cost him his job. Despite the endless overtime and his boss's. demanding nature, the salary and benefits were exceptional. He wasn't ready to be unemployed.

"Jeremy." Alexander's voice cut through the silence.

"Yes, sir?" Jeremy replied, his voice tighter than he intended.

"How long have you been with me?"

"Five months and three days," Jeremy answered, fighting to keep his tone even. "I'm the longest-serving new assistant you've had in the past two years."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, sir." Jeremy's heart hammered against his ribs. So this is it. He was really going to be fired. "Are you. letting me go?"

Alexander raised a brow but didn't answer. His new assistant was capable-exceptionally so-but his train of thought could be. unconventional.

As if deciding he had nothing left to lose, Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut and made one final plea.

"If you've decided to terminate me, I understand it must be due to my shortcomings. But given that I've been on call 24/7 without fail these past months, I'd respectfully request-beyond the standard severance-that the company cover my future therapy sessions. Working for you has been. deeply instructive, but psychologically. taxing."

A slight, almost imperceptible tremor in his voice seemed to amuse Alexander. "Who said anything about firing you?"

"You. you didn't mean that?" Jeremy's eyes flew open, wide with surprise.

"No. As you pointed out, you're the most competent assistant I've had in years. You'd be even better if you learned to filter your thoughts."

"In that case, sir. does this mean I'm getting a raise?" Jeremy ventured, hope flickering in his voice.

A dry laugh escaped Alexander. "You don't hesitate to push your luck, do you?" He picked up a file from the table and tossed it toward him. "Your raise depends on this. Handle the project. If you fail, don't bother coming back."

"Thank you, sir! I won't let you down!" Jeremy bowed dramatically. But as he turned to leave, he couldn't resist a final, well-intentioned murmur. "Sir, if you really are interested in that lady, perhaps I could-"

"Would you prefer I fire you after all?" Alexander's voice was deceptively calm, yet carried undeniable authority.

"Absolutely not, sir!" In a blink, Jeremy vanished from the room.

Silence returned, and Alexander finally felt a sense of quiet settle over the space. Shaking his head slightly, he allowed his gaze to drift once more toward the salon below.

A muscle twitched in Alexander's jaw as he watched Logan's hand slide along Mirena's shoulders, fingers drumming against her skin in a rhythm that spoke of easy familiarity.

That same skin he had felt just hours before.

His temple throbbed as the memory rushed back-the image of her walking into the bathroom, unclothed and unashamed, had left him standing under an ice-cold shower for a full hour, wrestling with a desire he refused to name.

Even now, as he recalled the image of her body, curves tracing the right angles with skin as white as milk, he felt his trousers tighten.

And to think George had taken her for granted. For five whole years?

For a fleeting moment, he entertained the idea of making George disappear. Almost as quickly, he dismissed it.

Alexander closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the chair as the past washed over him.

The inter-college finance competition. He, the undisputed leader. Victory, a foregone conclusion.

.Until her.

Mirena. The scholarship student from nowhere, sharper than anyone he'd ever faced. The first person who didn't flinch at his name or his wealth. The only one who ever looked him in the eye and smirked.

"So you're the famous Alexander Pierce," she'd said, her voice all cool challenge. "Try to keep up."

He'd leaned in, close enough that only she could hear. "Don't worry, little rival. I'll be the one teaching you a lesson."

That was the beginning. The rivalry. The obsession.

Now, his gaze softened almost imperceptibly as he watched her below. Chandelier light caught in her hair, outlining her in a halo of gold that made his breath catch.

And then-as if feeling the weight of his stare-Mirena turned.

Their eyes locked.

A current, sharp and undeniable, crackled between them. Alexander's chest tightened. But in the next heartbeat, she turned back to Logan as if Alexander were nothing more than a stranger in the shadows.

For the first time in years, he felt invisible.

A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. He chuckled softly, lowering his head.

It's been too long since I've gambled, he thought, rising to his feet. Time to remind Mirena exactly who she's dealing with.