In the small, dimly lit apartment of the Whyte family, the morning sunlight filtered weakly through half-torn curtains. The room was quiet except for the faint ticking of the wall clock and the soft clatter of dishes from the narrow kitchen. Mrs. Linda Whyte sat on the edge of the worn-out couch, her palms clasped tightly together, eyes lost in the cracked tiles below her feet. Her once-radiant face, now pale and weary, carried the marks of endless worry.
Bills were piled up on the small coffee table, some opened, others left untouched. A single photograph rested beside them—one taken years ago, back when their lives were brighter. Her husband, Mr. Daniel Whyte, had been a proud man then, full of laughter and ambition. His company had been thriving, his family comfortable. But when the business collapsed, it had taken everything with it—their home, their security, and the joy that once filled the house.
Now, silence had become a constant companion.
Linda pressed her fingers against her temple, trying to fight the throbbing headache that had been haunting her since dawn. How did everything fall apart so quickly? she asked herself for the thousandth time. Daniel had changed completely since the bankruptcy—his smiles turned to cold stares, his kindness replaced by frustration. Every word between them lately ended in bitterness.
She could still hear his voice from the night before:
"Don't start, Linda. I told you, I'll handle it my way!"
And she had simply watched him storm out of the apartment, his pride still heavier than his shame.
The small table trembled slightly as she reached for her cup of tea. It had long gone cold. She sighed and looked toward the window where the faint city noise drifted in. Somewhere out there, her daughter Selina was building her own life, working under the prestigious Vele Corporation. Linda smiled faintly. She was proud of Selina, though the girl had always been too independent, too stubborn to ask for help. Still, she hoped her daughter's new job would bring her something better—something different from the life they now lived.
.....
Across town, under the bright skies of Los Angeles, another world awakened.
At the luxurious Crimson Petal Spa in Scarletville—a place known only to the elite—three women lounged in the warm glow of scented candles and golden marble walls. The faint sound of bubbling water mixed with soft jazz playing in the background. Crystal glasses of champagne sat on the side tables beside neatly folded robes embroidered with the spa's insignia.
Scarlet Vele, the elegant yet fierce sister of Andrew Vele, leaned back against the edge of the spa pool, her auburn hair tied into a perfect bun, the reflection of light glinting against her flawless skin. She had inherited the confidence of the Vele name—charming, proud, and unapologetically bold.
"So," Janita Lang began, breaking the peaceful silence. Her voice was calm but carried the sharpness of curiosity. "Is it true what everyone's saying about your brother?"
Scarlet tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Depends," she replied lazily. "What exactly are they saying this time?"
"That he's gotten… involved with one of his employees," Janita said, lowering her voice with a smirk. "A secretary, I believe. A woman named Selina Whyte."
Riley Evans, lounging beside them with cucumber slices on her eyes, chuckled softly. "It's all over the business circles, Scarlet. You know how fast rumors travel in this city."
For a brief moment, Scarlet said nothing. Her perfectly manicured fingers tapped against the edge of her glass, the champagne catching the light like liquid gold. The mention of that name stirred something unpleasant inside her—a mix of disbelief and irritation.
"My brother?" she finally said with a sharp laugh. "With a woman like that? Don't be ridiculous."
"Don't get so defensive," Janita teased. "People are saying she's quite pretty. Quiet type. The kind who catches attention without even trying."
Scarlet's smirk faded. "I don't care how she looks," she said coldly. "She's not his type. Andrew doesn't get serious about women, especially not some ordinary girl working for him."
Ridley lifted her head slightly. "So, you're saying it's just gossip?"
"Of course," Scarlet replied, her tone dripping with disdain. "My brother knows what he's doing. He's not foolish enough to let a mere employee ruin his reputation—or ours."
Still, her words couldn't hide the small flicker of unease in her eyes. She took another sip of champagne and set the glass down.
But Janita wasn't done. "You do realize, Scarlet," she said carefully, "that this kind of gossip doesn't come from nowhere. Maybe you should ask him yourself before the tabloids do."
Scarlet turned sharply toward her, her calm expression hardening. "Janita," she said smoothly, "I know my brother better than anyone. If there's one thing Andrew Vele doesn't do, it's fall for people beneath his league."
Her friends exchanged quick glances, but they knew better than to argue. Scarlet's loyalty to her brother was fierce, and her pride, even fiercer. Still, deep down, a small voice whispered a possibility she didn't want to entertain. What if it's true? What if Andrew really is seeing someone like her?
She looked away, her jaw tightening.
.....
Back at the Whyte apartment, Linda was folding laundry when her phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from a friend she hadn't heard from in years—a brief, polite text:
"Have you heard the news about your daughter? Seems she's doing well at Vele Corp."
Linda smiled softly, not knowing what kind of "news" her friend was referring to. But she took comfort in the thought that maybe, just maybe, things were beginning to change for the better.
....
Meanwhile, back at the spa, the girls had moved to the private lounge, where silk robes replaced towels and the gossip continued over light pastries. The room was luxurious—ivory walls, plush seats, and the faint scent of jasmine floating through the air.
Scarlet crossed her legs elegantly, her diamond bracelet glinting as she spoke. "Honestly, I don't blame that woman for trying. Girls like her always see men like Andrew as their golden ticket."
Ridley nodded. "True. They cling to power, hoping for miracles."
Janita chuckled, stirring her tea. "But if she's really caught his attention… that makes her dangerous."
Scarlet looked thoughtful for a moment, then her lips curved into a cold smile. "Then maybe it's time someone reminded her where she belongs."
The other two women laughed quietly, the sound blending with the soft hum of the lounge's music. Outside, the Los Angeles skyline glimmered in the midday sun, bright and indifferent.
And somewhere in the same city, Selina Whyte stood in her boss's office, unaware that her name had already become the spark of whispered rumors among the powerful and that someone, somewhere, had just decided to make her life a little more complicated.