Saphina pushed open the door to her apartment, and the familiar scent of lavender air freshener wafted over her like a soft blanket, yet it did little to quell the whirlwind in her mind. She kicked off her shoes, tossed her bag haphazardly on the couch, and collapsed onto her bed, still adorned in her day's clothing. Gazing up at the ceiling, her thoughts spiraled chaotically, racing through the tumult of her emotions.
*"Things keep getting trickier,"* she muttered, barely above a whisper.
Turning onto her side, she let out a bitter laugh. "*Bride. His bride.*" The image of Tristan, standing protectively before her and declaring her *his woman*, replayed in her head like a never-ending reel.
Another laugh escaped her lips, this one short and hollow. *"What does that even mean? What are we even doing?"* She murmured to herself, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. A sigh escaped her, a mix of exhaustion and confusion; she couldn't discern whether her heart raced from embarrassment... or something far deeper.
Reluctantly, she pushed herself off the bed, took a long, warm shower, and slipped into her nightwear, cocooning herself in soft blankets. But sleep was a fickle companion, refusing to visit her restless mind.
---
*Meanwhile… at the Black estate*
Elias slammed the car door with a sense of finality as he and his father arrived. The silence between them thickened, almost palpable, until they stepped into the grandeur of the Black residence, where opulence surrounded them.
"You went too far, son," Mr. Black stated, tossing his coat to a waiting butler, his gaze locking onto Elias. "That wasn't part of the plan."
Elias didn't meet his father's eyes. Instead, he poured himself a generous glass of whiskey, letting the amber liquid swirl as he took a measured sip. "They humiliated me... as if I were nothing."
"It was a misunderstanding. You lashed out at a girl who wasn't even meant for you."
Elias pivoted sharply, his eyes ablaze with fury. "A misunderstanding? I know what I witnessed. That girl—she's the fire they think they can hide behind velvet curtains. She may not bear the Moretti name, but the way Tristan looked at me... as if he owned her, as if I were beneath him."
Mr. Black regarded him with narrowed eyes, a warning simmering in his gaze. "You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment."
"No," Elias replied, a smirk curling his lips. "For the first time, I see clearly. They think they can cast me aside? That Tristan Moretti can condescend to me? They have no idea who they're dealing with."
With a decisive gulp, he finished his whiskey. Coldly, he declared, "I always get what I want, Father. And right now… I want her."
"Be cautious," Mr. Black cautioned. "Yearning too fiercely can blind even the shrewdest of men."
With that, Elias strode past his father, straightening his cufflinks with renewed determination. "Then perhaps it's time I employ a less honorable strategy. Let's see just how long the Morettis can shield their precious lady."
------
Liana's Penthouse
Liana stepped into her personal penthouse, relief washing over her like cool water after a long hike. After the chaos at the Moretti mansion, the soothing silence of her apartment felt like a sanctuary. She slipped into her favorite comfy robe, poured herself a generous glass of wine, and sank into the plush cushions of her couch. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to breathe.
Just as she was about to indulge in the warmth of her solitude, her phone buzzed insistently on the table. Half-heartedly, she glanced over, expecting nothing more than a mundane notification—until she saw the name flashing on the screen.
*Jack.*
A mix of annoyance and intrigue flickered across her face. "Well, look who finally decided I'm worth a call," she muttered, her voice laced with sarcasm as she answered.
"Hi, Liana. How have you been?" Jack's voice came through, smooth and effortlessly charming as always.
Liana reclined back on the couch, crossing her arms. "Wow, a week of silence and now you want to check in?"
There was a notable pause on the other end. Jack wasn't biting.
"Seriously, Liana," he said, his tone softening. "I want to know how you're really doing."
The lightness in her voice slipped away as she let out a slow breath. "I'm fine... Just needed a break from everything."
"I'm glad to hear that," Jack responded. "I was actually worried about you."
A smirk crept onto Liana's face, even though he couldn't see it. "You have an interesting way of expressing concern."
Jack chuckled, a warm sound that reminded her of better moments. "Fair point. But seriously, can we meet? There's something important I'd like to discuss."
"Sure, but I draw the line at another coffee shop," she shot back quickly. "I've had my fill of caffeine-fueled confrontations for a while now."
"Noted," he replied with a laugh, his easy demeanor infectious. "How about my place? I promise, no drama, no surprises—just a quiet conversation."
Liana hesitated, weighing her options. Finally, she nodded to herself. "That could work. At least we're changing the scenery this time."
"Great! I'll text you the address shortly."
As she ended the call, Liana stared at her phone for a heartbeat longer than necessary. There was something about Jack that always kept her guessing, as if he were a locked box, and she didn't have the key.
She took a thoughtful sip of her wine and whispered to herself, "Alright, Jack. Show me what you're really made of."
---
The next day
Liana stepped out of the car, her heels clicking softly against the tiled pavement leading up to Jack's apartment. She hesitated a moment, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before ringing the bell.
The door opened almost immediately.
"Hey, glad you came," Jack said with a soft smile. He looked casual, dressed in a black fitted shirt and jeans, but there was something about his eyes—something unreadable.
"Thanks. I figured a change of scenery wouldn't hurt," Liana replied, stepping inside. The apartment was modern and tastefully decorated. Cool-toned, clean, but warm enough to feel lived in.
"Want anything? Drink? Snacks?" he asked, heading to the kitchen.
"A drink would be great," she replied, taking a seat on the couch.
He returned with a cold glass of juice and handed it to her. They sat for a moment in silence, both unsure how to start.
Finally, Jack broke it. "Hope you are doing well now, That night at the gala... I didn't expect it to end that way."
Liana gave a dry chuckle. "You mean Tristan storming in like a possessive hurricane and dragging me out?"
Jack nodded. "Yeah. That."
A beat.
"So..." he continued, not quite meeting her gaze. "Is he... someone special to you? An ex? Or... still something more?"
Before Liana could respond, the front door clicked open—without a knock. She froze.
A tall, stunning woman walked in like she owned the place. Small waist, full hips, skin-tight dress, sky-high heels. Her perfume hit the air like a wave of roses and seduction.
Without even acknowledging Liana, the woman sauntered over to Jack, placed both hands on his chest, and pulled him into a kiss—right in front of her.
Liana's heart stopped. Her fingers gripped her glass too tightly. Jack didn't even move—frozen in place like a statue.
When the woman finally pulled away, she smiled slyly. "Miss me, baby?"
Jack blinked. "Anna...? What are you doing here?"
Anna tilted her head playfully, but her tone was sharp. "What do you mean by 'what am I doing here'? I used my key. Did you forget you gave it to me? Or maybe you're too distracted by your new toy over there." She finally glanced at Liana, eyes narrowing.
Liana stood up, stunned. She didn't say a word. She didn't have to. Her eyes said it all: betrayal, embarrassment, disbelief.
"Liana, wait," Jack said, stepping forward to stop her as she headed toward the door.
She pulled her arm away. "Let go of me."
"Please, it's not what it looks like," he said quickly.
"Not what it looks like?" she snapped. "Jack, I came here because I thought maybe—just maybe—you were different. And you let some woman walk in and put her lips on you just like that ."
"I didn't invite her! I don't even know why she's here—"
She slapped him.
A sharp, loud sound.
Anna gasped, stepping forward. "Did you just slap him?"
"Stay out of this," Liana said, voice trembling.
Anna surged toward her, rage flashing across her face. "You little—"
Jack held her back. "Enough, Anna! Don't touch her. This is my house, and you're crossing the line."
Anna shook herself free from his grip, eyes blazing. "You're yelling at *me* now? Because of this—" she motioned at Liana, "this bitch? You know what? You two deserve each other." She stormed out, heels clicking furiously as the door slammed behind her.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Liana stood there, fists clenched at her sides, breathing hard. Her eyes were shiny, but no tears fell. She wouldn't give him that.
Jack stepped closer. "Liana..."
She shook her head slowly. "No. Don't." Her voice was soft, but laced with pain. "I don't even know why I came here. Maybe I was hoping to see something real in you. Maybe I wanted to believe in you. But this? This is exactly what I never wanted."
He looked genuinely remorseful. "I didn't plan this. I swear."
She gave a bitter smile. "Yeah, well... I didn't plan on being humiliated either."
Her voice cracked just slightly on that last word, and it almost broke Jack.
She turned to leave, hand on the door.
"Liana, please—"
"F**k you, Jack," she said coldly without turning back, and walked out.
The door shut behind her.
Jack stood alone, staring at the door, running a hand through his hair. "F**K!."
---