The morning sunlight streamed through the wide glass windows of Vanessa Moore's luxury apartment, lighting up every polished surface of her pristine white living room. As usual, her personal maid, Elina, moved quietly about, straightening the throw pillows and dusting the marble coffee table that gleamed like ice under the soft light. Everything in Vanessa's home reflected her—classy, perfect, and slightly intimidating.
Vanessa sat lazily on the couch, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, wearing a silky cream robe that shimmered against her skin. Her long, auburn hair was tied loosely, cascading over one shoulder. With her manicured nails, she held a porcelain cup of steaming coffee, the smell of roasted beans filling the air.
A smirk curved her lips as her eyes stayed glued to the phone screen in her other hand. She was rewatching a short video clip—one that had been sent to her earlier that morning. In the video, Andrew Vele, her long-time obsession, stepped gracefully out of his sleek black car, followed closely by Selina Whyte. The camera angle wasn't perfect, but it was clear enough—Selina was with him, wearing a dress Vanessa recognized instantly as one of Andrew's exclusive designs.
"Oh, look at her," Vanessa muttered under her breath, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Pretending to be shy while walking beside him. How adorable."
She sipped her coffee slowly, eyes narrowing as the clip replayed. Every time she saw Andrew's hand slightly hover near Selina's back, as though to guide her, a spark of irritation flared in Vanessa's chest. That same hand used to rest on her shoulder during board meetings, guiding her through gala halls, shielding her from flashing cameras. Or at least, that's what she liked to remember.
But that was before Selina came along.
Her grip on the cup tightened ever so slightly, a faint crack running down the handle. Elina, noticing her mistress's shifting expression, froze where she stood, clutching the feather duster to her chest.
Vanessa caught the movement from the corner of her eye and smiled coldly. "Relax, Elina," she said smoothly. "I'm not going to throw the cup… yet."
"Yes, ma'am," Elina murmured softly, bowing her head.
Vanessa returned her attention to her phone and let out a small, bitter laugh. "Selina Whyte. That name keeps coming up everywhere lately. Who would've thought Andrew Vele, of all people, would fall for nobody?"
Her words filled the silence of the grand apartment. The only sound was the faint hum of the city outside and the rhythmic tapping of her nails on the cup.
"Fetch me my phonebook," she ordered.
Elina hurried off and returned within seconds, holding a leather-bound directory. Vanessa flipped through it, then stopped at a name. She dialed quickly, the phone pressed to her ear as she stared into her reflection in the window—a beautiful woman with too much pride and a dangerous glint in her eyes.
"Mr. Holt," she said when the voice answered. "It's Vanessa Moore . I have a small task for you." Her tone turned sweet, almost musical. "There's a woman I'd like you to look into. Selina Whyte. I want everything—her background, her family, her friends, her weaknesses. Money isn't an issue. Just make it quick."
There was a pause, then a quiet response from the man on the line. Vanessa's lips curved again. "Perfect. I'll be expecting your call soon."
She hung up, leaned back on the couch, and took another calm sip of her coffee, though her heart was racing. The idea of Selina being "looked into" brought her a twisted sense of satisfaction.
A knock came from the hallway door. It was Elina again, standing nervously. "Ma'am?"
"Yes, Elina?"
The maid hesitated. "Do you need anything else?"
Vanessa set her cup down carefully and turned to face her, her smile deceptively gentle. "Tell me something, Elina."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Do you think every man would fall for me?" Her tone was soft, almost playful, but her eyes sharpened like daggers.
Elina froze, unsure of what to say. The question wasn't one of curiosity—it was a trap. Vanessa loved testing people this way.
"Yes, ma'am," Elina answered quickly, forcing a smile. "Every man would. You're… beautiful, and no one can resist you."
Vanessa chuckled slowly, clearly amused. "Good answer. You've learned fast."
But as Elina bowed and turned away, she rolled her eyes slightly, careful not to let her mistress see. Not every man, she thought silently. Especially not one like Mr. Vele. He's too smart to fall for that fake charm forever.
Meanwhile, Vanessa picked up her phone again and stared at the paused video—Andrew opening the car door for Selina, his expression softer than she had ever seen before. Her smile faded.
"She's in over her head," Vanessa whispered to herself. "But don't worry, darling. I'll make sure you remember who you truly belong to."
She got up, walked toward the window, and gazed down at the streets below, where cars flowed like silver streams. The city looked peaceful, unaware of the storm she was about to stir.
Behind her, Elina glanced at her reflection in the glass and shivered. She knew that whenever Vanessa Moore wore that calm smile, someone was bound to get hurt.
And this time, it was clear who her target was.