Tiana Kings had built an empire with her heels on the necks of every doubt that ever tried to hold her back.
At just twenty-six, she was the face, body, and brain behind Diamonds, the fashion brand that dared women to feel sexy without apology. Her curves were billboard-famous, her Instagram account a shrine, and her attitude? Untouchable.
Men fell for her. Women wanted to be her—or wanted her. Tiana had no confusion about her power. She wielded it like lipstick: smooth, bold, and impossible to ignore.
So when her driver of two years was caught taking photos of her private closet for a tabloid and also confessing his feelings for her, she didn't blink. "Fire him, sue him, and bring me someone who knows how to shut up and drive."
The city glowed beneath the penthouse like a galaxy at her feet. Tiana Kings stood by the tall windows in her silk robe, sipping tea with perfect poise. The air inside was quiet, touched only by the distant hum of traffic far below.
Behind her, Emily Lane lingered, tablet in hand. She had come in with a question, and now she couldn't seem to leave without an answer.
"You fired Reuben."
Tiana didn't turn. "Yes."
"But you said he was good."
"I said he was good at driving."
Emily stepped further into the room, her heels soft against the polished floors. "Then why?"
Tiana exhaled slowly, like she was choosing her words not for Emily, but for herself. "He couldn't handle his feelings."
Emily blinked. "His feelings?"
"Yes. Toward me."
Emily's voice tightened. "Is that why you fired him?"
"He started looking at me differently. Holding the door longer than needed. Asking how I was. Calling me beautiful when he thought I wouldn't notice."
"I thought you liked attention. From men."
Tiana let out a short laugh, dry and light. "I do."
Emily crossed her arms, eyes fixed on the woman who seemed carved from elegance. "Then what's the problem?"
"I like attention from men I don't have to write checks to at the end of the month."
Emily's face fell. "So because he didn't have money—"
"Because he forgot his place."
Emily's voice cracked. "You didn't have to be so cold."
Tiana turned, her gaze level and unflinching. "Emily, kindness is something I reserve for people who understand boundaries."
"He cared about you."
"He made a fantasy out of a job."
"You could've just told him."
"And risk the drama? The assumptions? The emotional outbursts?" Tiana walked over to the bar and refilled her cup. "No. I ended it clean."
Emily lowered her voice. "He wasn't just another man, Tiana. He was someone who actually saw you."
Tiana looked up, sharply. "No, Emily. He saw what he wanted me to be. That's not the same."
I just thought… you liked being wanted."
"I do. But not by someone I pay. That's not desire. That's dependency disguised as admiration."
Emily stared at her, as if trying to find a seam in her armor. "Sometimes I think you fire people not because they cross a line—but because they get too close."
Tiana's tone softened, just enough to be noticed. "Close is dangerous."
"Being alone is dangerous too."
Tiana gave her a look—quiet, unreadable. "I'm not alone. I'm in control."
Emily held her ground. "That's not the same."
Silence stretched between them, filled only by the quiet tapping of rain beginning against the windows. Tiana glanced toward it, then back at Emily.
I don't owe anyone my vulnerability. Not Reuben. Not anyone."
Emily swallowed. "Do you think I'm just like him? Just another one who'll fall for you?"
Tiana studied her, the room suddenly feeling smaller.
"No. You're smarter than that."
Emily turned toward the door, her voice low. "Maybe that's what makes it worse."
Tiana didn't answer. The door shut gently behind Emily, leaving her once again with her tea, the rain, and the lights of a city that couldn't reach her.
Tiana stood in the stillness of the penthouse, the clink of her spoon against porcelain echoing in the silence Emily had left behind. The city outside blinked and shimmered like a thousand eyes watching her. Admiring her.
She moved to the mirror above the fireplace, gazing at her reflection.
Flawless. Always.
She had it all. The kind of wealth most people only dared to imagine. Her name was on invitation lists and whispered in luxury lounges. Beauty? She wore it like a second skin. Tailored dresses, silk on her shoulders, diamonds that caught candlelight just so. Power? She didn't just walk into rooms—she redefined them.
Men? They came easily. CEOs, heirs, athletes, politicians. Each of them eager to orbit her, hoping to touch the gravity she carried in her presence. She had learned early: attention was a currency, and she never spent it cheaply.
She didn't need to settle.
Especially not for someone like Reuben.
He drove well—smooth hands, quiet eyes—but he wasn't built for her world. He was the kind of man who offered sincerity instead of status. Devotion instead of diamonds. And devotion, in her world, was a poor man's substitute for value.
Affection from a man like Reuben felt like pity in disguise. A reminder of the girl she used to be—before she became Tiana Kings. Before she earned the penthouse, the lifestyle, the armor.
To keep him would've been to downgrade. To make room in her life for something that didn't shine as bright as the rest of it. That wasn't just a compromise—it was a betrayal. Of everything she'd built. Everything she'd clawed her way up for.
She whispered to her reflection, "I am not a charity case for a man who confuses gratitude with romance."
A part of her—the smallest, faintest part—remembered the way Reuben used to look at her in the rearview mirror. Like she wasn't just someone to serve, but someone to understand. Someone he already did.
She crushed that thought quickly. Emotion was a trap. Softness was a risk. And men who couldn't afford their own seat at her table didn't get to ask for a place beside her.
She turned away from the mirror, spine straight, chin high.
Let Emily pity him. Let the world judge her. Tiana Kings didn't bow for comfort. She rose for power.
And love? If it ever came, it would be dressed in silk, wearing a watch worth more than a year of Reuben's salary.
Anything less was an insult.