Riven Dax walked briskly through the polished halls of Dax Holdings. His tall frame moved with quiet authority, black suit sharp against the glass walls that lined the corridor. The staff he passed bowed their heads quickly, sensing his focus and choosing not to interrupt.

But inside his mind, focus was the last thing he felt.

He could still see her in fragments - flashes of skin under dim blue lights, long dark hair spilling across white sheets. Her bare back turned toward him as he buttoned his shirt and left. The curve of her waist, the soft rise of her breathing as she slept.

No face. Just shadows and broken images that refused to fit together.

Riven clenched his jaw slightly, pushing open the boardroom door and stepping into his office floor. His memory picked at itself, trying to fill the gap after he left his apartment yesterday evening. He remembered an urgent investor meeting being rescheduled last minute, an address sent to him by his team.

Then darkness. Like someone sliced the memory clean from his mind.

He walked down the hall, thoughts cold and clinical.

I can't afford a scandal. Not now. Not when everything I've built is on the edge of global expansion.

His fingers curled tighter around his leather portfolio. The taste of that night still lingered in his chest - a bitter sweetness he couldn't shake off. He didn't like not knowing. Riven always knew everything. He always controlled everything.

And now, there was a missing night. A woman whose name he didn't know. A mistake he never would have made if he had been fully aware.

Whoever she was, he told himself, she will not ruin me.

As he neared his office, his secretary stood waiting outside, tablet held to her chest.

"Mr. Dax," she said softly. " Miss Selene is waiting for you in your office."

Riven paused, sighing under his breath. "Why didn't she call me?"

The secretary lowered her eyes. "She said she would wait."

He nodded curtly and pushed open the heavy glass door. Inside, sunlight poured over his sleek black desk, where Selene sat gracefully on the guest chair, legs crossed, a faint smile touching her lips.

"Riven," she greeted warmly. "Busy as always."

"Selene." He set down his portfolio and unbuttoned his suit jacket, settling into his chair with practiced calm. "What brings you here without notice today?"

She laughed softly. "I was in the area for a keynote and thought I'd check on you. It's been weeks since we had a proper conversation."

Her voice was warm, cultured. Her long hair was pulled back into a neat twist, and her ivory suit was tailored to perfection. She looked exactly how his mother always described her: composed, brilliant, flawless.

Riven watched her with quiet detachment. He knew Selene was completing her second PhD, this time in economics and law. She was the daughter of Marcus Vaughn, his mother's closest friend and longtime ally. Growing up, Selene spent every summer with the Dax family, attending etiquette classes, sailing lessons, and piano recitals.

His mother still spoke about her with glowing praise. "Selene is your future, Riven. She will stand beside you perfectly."

But as Selene spoke about her conference and upcoming publications, Riven found himself distracted again. The memory of last night pressed against his mind like a bruise he couldn't ignore.

Selene noticed his distant expression but didn't ask. She never asked things she knew he wouldn't answer.

"I know you're busy," she said, standing smoothly. "But dinner this weekend? It's been far too long."

Riven nodded automatically. "Of course. I'll have my office confirm."

Her smile softened. "I look forward to it."

But as he watched her leave, tall and graceful, he already felt the heavy boredom settle in his chest. He knew he would go. He knew he would pay for the dinner, listen politely, nod at all the right times. But enjoy it?

No. That wasn't something he expected anymore.

As the office door closed behind Selene, his assistant entered swiftly. Julius – loyal, sharp, and always anticipating the questions before Riven voiced them.

"Sir," Julius began, tablet in hand. "I have preliminary updates on last night."

Riven leaned back in his chair, dark eyes narrowing. "Go on."

"The meeting with Mr. Han was redirected at the last minute to Club Altere. Reservation was made under the company account, but... the room was booked privately."

Riven's fingers drummed slowly on the armrest. "Footage?"

"No cameras allowed in private suites. But we have hallway footage showing you entering around 7:40pm. You left just after midnight."

Riven's jaw tightened. "And inside the room?"

Julius shook his head. "No footage. But there was no sign of struggle or security alerts."

Silence filled the office, humming coldly between them.

"Someone drugged me," Riven said finally, his voice low and calm. "I don't remember a thing. I want every detail, Julius. Who booked the room, how I got there, and who she is."

Julius nodded quickly. "Understood."

Riven's gaze darkened, his mind already slicing through possible threats. This is sabotage. Or blackmail. Or worse. His company had just finalised the acquisition that positioned them as the leading global luxury real estate empire. His enemies were many. His mother's expectations were crushing.

"I won't let this become a headline," he said coldly. "Not now. Not ever."

Later on, Julius cleared his throat softly, looking at his tablet.

"We traced the booking details. The room was reserved under the name Vela Marquette."

Riven frowned slightly. The name felt distant, unfamiliar.

"Who is she?" he asked.

"Her mother runs a mid-tier fashion brand. Daughter is a rising influence in local circles. Twenty-one, unmarried, lives in the city. I have her address and number ready."

Riven sat silently for a moment, staring out at the New York skyline beyond his window. The late morning sun glinted off towers of glass and steel, cold and bright.

"Schedule a meeting with her," he ordered. "Today. In a restaurant, VVIP only. No leaks, no assumptions. I want to hear her version myself."

"Yes, sir," Julius replied, bowing slightly before leaving the office.

Riven leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The woman from last night flashed through his mind again - long hair, soft skin, warmth under his hands. He opened his eyes, the memory gone like smoke.

His expression hardened. No one uses him. No one.

Thira stood on the sidewalk in front of her house, clutching her torn hoodie around her body. The morning air felt sharp against her damp cheeks. Her feet dragged as she walked up the driveway, exhaustion and fear weighing her down.

She just wanted to see her father. To explain everything. To tell him it wasn't her fault. That she was tricked.

But when she reached the front porch, her father stood there waiting, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were cold, like dark stones.

"Papa..." she started, her voice shaking. "Please, just let me explain-"

He raised his hand sharply, cutting her off. "Your sister already told me everything."

Thira froze, mouth open in shock.

"You've ruined this family's name," he said, his words slow and harsh. "Your mother would be ashamed to see what you've become."

Her chest hurt so badly it felt like something was breaking inside her. "Please... it's not true. Vela set me up. I swear. I would never-"

"I don't want to hear your lies," he snapped. "Leave. Now."

Tears burned her eyes as she looked at him, hoping for a flicker of softness. But he turned away, walking back into the house and closing the door behind him without another word.

The click of the lock echoed in her ears.

With nowhere else to go, Thira walked quickly to Darian's apartment. The city felt too big and too cold around her. She hugged herself tightly as she climbed the stairs, her fingers numb against the metal rail.

Maybe he'll listen. Maybe he'll believe me.

His door was unlocked. She pushed it open quietly, stepping inside. The smell of strong cologne and sweet perfume filled her nose. Her heart beat faster with nervous hope.

"Darian...?" she called softly.

No answer. She walked further in and stopped.

Red lace lingerie lay on the living room floor. Her stomach twisted painfully. Her hands shook as she picked it up, then dropped it quickly like it burned her fingers.

Slowly, she pushed open his bedroom door.

The sight hit her like a punch to the chest. Darian was lying in bed, half-covered by the sheets. Vela lay beside him, her blonde hair spread across the pillows, her naked body pressed against his side.

Vela looked up lazily, eyes meeting Thira's. She let out a small laugh. "Why are you so dramatic? He clearly wanted someone real."

Thira's lips parted but no sound came out. Her vision blurred with tears as she stumbled back from the door, then turned and ran out of the apartment, her heart shattering with every step.

When she got back to her house, the front yard greeted her with boxes and bags scattered near the gate. Her clothes lay in a torn pile, some already damp from the morning dew.

A housemaid she barely knew stood beside them, looking uncomfortable. She held out a small backpack to Thira.

"Your father burned your things," the maid said quietly. "I saved what I could before he told me to throw the rest out."

Thira took the backpack slowly, her hands trembling so badly she almost dropped it. She wanted to scream, to collapse on the ground and cry until her chest gave out. But no tears came. Only a deep emptiness.

She looked up at the sky, grey and heavy above her, and started walking. Her feet carried her down familiar streets, past grocery stores and bus stops, until she stood in front of the only place she could think of.

Carden's apartment.

She raised her hand and knocked weakly. The door opened within seconds. Carden stood there, eyes wide when he saw her shaking, with her clothes stuffed into a small bag.

"Thira..." he whispered.

She tried to speak, but only a broken sob came out. He stepped forward quickly and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. She clung to him, crying softly, feeling his warmth seep into her frozen skin.

"It's okay," he murmured into her hair. "I've got you. I've always got you."

~~~

Vela sat cross-legged on her pink velvet bed, filing her nails while humming to herself. Her phone buzzed beside her. She glanced at the unknown number and rolled her eyes, answering with a bored voice.

"Hello?"

"Good morning. May I speak with Miss Vela Calderon ?" a formal male voice asked.

"Speaking," she said, smirking. "Unless you're a debt collector, then I'm the President's daughter."

"This is Julius from Dax Holdings," the voice continued smoothly. "I'm calling to let you know Mr. Riven Dax would love to meet with you today,"

Vela froze, her nail file dropping onto the bed. "I... excuse me? Meeting? With Mr Riven? Are you some cheap scam?"

"It's regarding the room you booked last night," Julius said calmly. "We have you registered as the guest who reserved it."

Her mind spun. Room? Last night? Then it clicked - the setup. The man Thira slept with... it was Riven Dax?!

Her chest filled with hot excitement and cold fear at the same time. She sat up straighter, heart pounding wildly.

"Ah... yes. Of course," she said quickly, switching to her sweetest voice. "I'll be there."

When the call ended, she grinned at her reflection in the mirror. "Oh, Thira. You had no idea what you gave me.

One hour later, Vela sat across from Riven Dax in a private dining room of an expensive French restaurant. She wore a pale pink dress that hugged her curves, her hair curled perfectly over her shoulders. She watched him as he read through some files on his phone, his face serious and cold.

He looked up at her finally. His dark eyes were unreadable.

"I apologise for the confusion last night," he said in a low voice. "The truth is... I don't remember much."

Vela blinked slowly, tilting her head. "Neither do I," she said softly, pretending to look embarrassed. "I... I might have had too much to drink."

He studied her for a long moment. Something flickered in his eyes. He's suspicious, she realised. He remembers dark hair. But she's blonde.

Still, he nodded and slipped a black card holder onto the table. "If you need anything. Clothes, counselling, compensation..."

She pushed it back gently. "No. I don't want money. I... I think we could be friends instead."

He paused, his gaze narrowing slightly. Then he nodded slowly. "Fine."

When she got home, Vela closed her bedroom door and pressed her back against it, grinning at the ceiling. Friends with Riven Dax. She laughed softly to herself.

"Let's turn that into a wife," she whispered.

Her phone buzzed again. An email notification.

Subject: Appointment Confirmation - Dax Holdings

She clicked it open and her heart jumped. She had been appointed to a position at Dax Holdings. She never even applied.

She smiled wide, her teeth flashing under the crystal chandelier. Darian's name popped up on her screen, calling her again.

She declined it without a second thought.

"It's time to scale up the ladder," she said to herself, tossing her phone onto the bed and walking towards her vanity mirror. Her reflection smirked back at her, eyes glinting with victory.

Thira sat by the window, watching as the airplane dipped through thick white clouds. The skyline of New York City appeared below them - tall silver towers rising out of the morning mist. Her heart beat faster in her chest. Five years ago, this city had swallowed her whole and spat her out in pieces. Now she was coming back, stronger, but still holding old wounds. Sometimes, she wondered if it was all worth it.

"Mum, are we in New York?" Kai asked from beside her. He is the most inquisitive of Thira's triplets and a tech genius.

She glanced at him and smiled tightly. "Yes, sweetheart. We're almost there."

Kai leaned forward, his eyes scanning the cityscape with focused excitement. "Is Daddy here too?"

Thira's fingers tightened around her seatbelt. That particular question sliced through her chest like it always did, but she tried to keep her calm. She swallowed and heart skipped at his question.

Kai nodded like it didn't bother him, already turning to tell his twin brother Niko about the bridges and highways they could see below. Niko pressed his nose against the window while Elara, curled against Thira's arm, hummed a little tune under her breath.

Behind them, Carden chuckled softly. "You three look like baby hawks hunting mice down there," he teased.

Niko grinned. "I'd catch the biggest mouse."

Elara wrinkled her nose. "Ew, no. I'd design a dress for the mouse."

Kai shot her a look. "Mice are meant to be mice. No catching or playing dress up."

Carden laughed warmly, and Thira felt her chest loosen a little. His voice always felt like a gentle shield between her and the world.

As the plane began its slow descent, Thira's mind drifted back to the day she met Carden again. Five years ago, she had knocked on his apartment door, broken and trembling, after her father threw her out. She remembered how he pulled her into his arms without a word, his strong chest steady and warm against her sobs.

When he told her he was relocating to Florence for work, he offered to take her with him. She had refused at first, too ashamed to accept. But he simply smiled and said, "You deserve better than this place."

Two weeks after arriving in Florence, Thira found out she was pregnant. Her world tilted with fear, but Carden never let her fall. He helped her through every wave of sickness, every scan, every silent crying night. He refused to let her give up on herself. When people asked if he was the father, he never corrected them. But the kids always called him "Uncle."

With his support, she studied hard, earning top certifications in finance, branding, and luxury management. He never let her forget who she was meant to become.

Now, here she was - flying back to New York with a job offer from Dax Holdings. When their HR manager first called her about the position, she had almost refused. How could she work full-time while raising three five-year-olds?

But the company insisted. They offered her a four-bedroom apartment in one of their high-security estates, assigned her a company vehicle, and tailored her contract to fit her family's needs. There was literally no way out of it.

"You're running again," Carden told her one evening in Florence, his voice quiet but firm. "This job is your chance to stop running."

She was conflicted, yes, but the pros were looking far more than the cons. So she accepted it, clutching her fear and hope together like threads of the same fabric.

At the arrivals gate, a cheerful man in a clownish yellow tie stood holding a placard with her name. "Miss Calderon?" he asked brightly. "Welcome to New York. I'm your driver for today."

"Thank you," she said softly, guiding the kids towards him.

The driver led them to a shiny Toyota Highlander parked outside. Kai slid in first, scanning the seats and dashboard with sharp eyes.

"Mum, this car is outdated," he said seriously, tapping at the seatbelt buckle. "They should've gotten the 2025 model."

The driver chuckled as he helped Elara into her booster seat. "That sounds like something my boss would say."

Thira smiled politely but barely heard him. Her mind was busy counting backpacks, water bottles, and snack bags, making sure nothing was left behind.

Carden climbed into the backseat beside the kids while Thira settled into the front passenger seat. As they drove away from the airport, the city rushed past her window in a blur of silver towers, bright billboards, and busy crowds.

Soon, the roads quieted as they entered a gated community. A large sign read: Dax Holdings Private Estate – D Avenue.

The guard waved them in, and the car rolled down smooth brick roads lined with tall trees. Thira felt her chest tighten with mixed emotions - fear, excitement, nostalgia. It was beautiful. It was powerful. And it belonged to the world that once broke her.

She glanced back at the kids. They were whispering to each other suspiciously, their little heads huddled close together.

Without warning, Kai looked up with bright, triumphant eyes.

"Yes!" he said loudly. "And I found him!"

Thira turned in her seat, startled. "Found who, Kai?"

But before he could speak again, Niko clamped a hand over his brother's mouth. Elara shook her head quickly, her curls bouncing.

"Nothing, Mum," Niko said with a quick smile.

"Yeah," Elara added softly, blinking her innocent eyes. "Nothing at all."

Thira studied their faces, her heart ticking faster with unease. What are you hiding from me? she wondered silently, turning back to the window as the car rolled deeper into the estate, towards a future she could no longer run from.