Someone opened the door, waking Julian from his sleep.
"Get out," he muttered, eyes still closed.
Silence.
He stretched, got out of bed naked and walked into the bathroom. The marble tiles were cold under his feet until he turned on the tap.
Outside the door, Clara cleared her throat. "Sir, your meeting is in an hour. Ms. Lily called to remind you, and said she was on her way."
He didn't answer.
Clara placed a tray beside the bed: black coffee, his phone, and the file he'd left lying around, then disappeared down the hall.
Julian finally emerged from the bathroom in a towel.
He walked straight to the window, ignoring the tray. His mind slipped to last night.
Who was reckless enough to kiss a half-drunk woman?
Me, he admitted to himself.
He hadn't planned it. It just… happened.
He'd never kissed a 'good girl' before. Never even been attracted to one. But something in her eyes, pulled him in.
He remembered the way her mouth had gone soft with surprise when he kissed her.
He frowned.
Why was he thinking about her? He didn't do good girls.
He shouldn't have kissed her. And he definitely shouldn't have taken her home.
Did she even remember him?
For the first time in... never, the thought of being forgotten didn't sit right with him.
Julian clicked his tongue softly and reached for the coffee.
"This is getting messy," he muttered.
A knock came.
"Come in."
Lily entered with folders in her hand. Her dress was businesslike. Pale blue with sharp pleats. Her hair was pinned back. The best assistant he could ask for apparently...
"Good morning sir," she said, not waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. "I've confirmed your meeting with Mr. Reyes this morning at midday. Your call with the Tokyo office has been moved to seven this evening. And the security report from last night came in, you'll want to read it."
Julian finally looked at her.
"Did I ask for any of that this morning?"
"No. But if I waited for your permission, nothing would ever get done." She set the folders neatly on his desk. "Also, your father called. Twice."
"I don't care."
"He said to call him back. Then he hung up."
Julian took a slow sip of his coffee.
She hesitated. "The woman from last week called three times. She used the word urgent."
He snorted. "Delete her number."
"Already did," she said tapping her tablet.
Julian leaned back against the window, the city stretching endlessly behind him.
"That's why I keep you."
"Because I clean up your mistakes?"
He smirked. "Because you're efficient."
She didn't react. "Your ten o'clock tomorrow is with the senator's wife. Do I cancel it again, or will you behave?"
He tilted his head, eyes glinting. "Define behave."
She gave him a cool, practiced smile. "In a way that doesn't land us in another tabloid headline."
Julian smirked.
"I'll be waiting for you downstairs, sir," she added, turning on her heel and walking out.
He watched her go, then spoke before the door fully closed.
"One more thing."
She stopped.
"Get the security footage from the club last night, I want you to find out the name of the girl I was with in the lobby around 9pm."
She turned slightly.
"Alright, sir."
The door closed softly behind her.
Julian watched her go. Lily was smart, efficient and completely immune to him.
Julian Blackwood, the name the public knew, was not particularly fond of his role as the unseen mind behind TechSphere, the world's second-largest multibillion-dollar tech company.
A subsidiary of the Grant empire, TechSphere was officially run by his father. Unofficially, Julian was the real CEO. Every decision of consequence passed through him — a fact only Lily and a select few were aware of.
Blackwood was his mother's name, one he chose for both convenience and distance.
His real name however was Julian Harrison Grant III, a name steeped in old money, politics, and a legacy he had spent his life trying to outrun.
Although he often attended events and meetings on his father's behalf, most people believed he was merely handling public relations for the powerful Grant empire.
Julian never bothered to correct them.
He set his coffee down and crossed to his desk.
He opened his inbox and saw an email from his father.
Subject: URGENT — PROJECT KESTREL LEAK.
His jaw tightened. Kestrel was his father's biggest acquisition deal this quarter, and the only one not yet finalized.
He opened the file. Confidential reports. Negotiation drafts. Even internal memos — all leaked to a rival company.
Someone inside TechSphere had sold them out.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing.
There was only one way to uncover a traitor who felt this safe.
This was not something he could delegate.
If there was a traitor inside TechSphere, he would find them himself.
....
By mid-morning, Lyvana and Emily were outside a row of boutique shops. Lyvana squinted at the display windows, wondering if she could do this.
"Okay, first rule of reinvention," Emily said, adjusting her sunglasses, "never enter a store timidly. Walk in like you own it. Confidence, Lyv. Confidence."
Lyvana laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Inside, the boutique was filled with rows of dresses, shoes, and handbags. Everything looked expensive, bold, and perfectly styled. A spark of excitement stirred in her chest. Her mother's fashion house had never made pieces like these.
Maybe it should.
She let her fingers glide over the fabrics, imagining herself in sharp, polished outfits — nothing like the dull, oversized clothes she usually hid in.
"I want everything," Emily whispered dramatically, picking up a sequined top.
Lyvana chuckled, feeling a thrill she hadn't felt in years.
"Let's at least be realistic," she said grinning.
The day had only just begun, and already Lyvana felt the first stirrings of the new version of herself.
Just as Lyvana reached for a leather jacket on display, a familiar voice cut through the boutique.
"Ms. Lyvana."
She turned, already knowing who it was before her eyes confirmed it.
"Bertha?" she said, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
Bertha used to work with her father before he sold his company for personal reasons.
The young girl smiled softly, adjusting the store tag pinned to her blouse. "I work here now. I am a sales assistant."
Lyvana studied her, surprised. "Here?"
"Yes, Ms. Lyvana." Bertha's smile widened. "It's good to see you again. May I assist you while you shop?"
Lyvana hesitated, then smiled. "Actually… would you like to come work for me instead?"