Inside a luxurious office, every surface gleamed with perfection — an atmosphere that screamed wealth and power. Seated elegantly behind an expensive mahogany desk was a man in his early thirties, Sebastian Whitmore.
"Sir, the meeting has been cancelled," a man in his late thirties announced respectfully.
"Hmm." That was the only response he gave.
His long, perfect fingers rested against the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed as though lost in deep thought. His jet-black hair was styled backward, with a few loose strands falling over his perfectly shaped brows.
"Sir," Ezra, Sebastian's personal bodyguard, called softly.
Silence.
"Xavier?" Sebastian finally asked.
"He submitted his resignation letter this morning. He's relocating and won't be able to continue working here. But don't worry sir, we'll find you a new PA before the week ends," Ezra assured calmly.
Sebastian's eyes slowly opened, revealing cold, piercing grey irises. With effortless elegance, he rose to his feet.
Standing at 6'2, he wore a white shirt with three buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his defined chest, paired with perfectly tailored black trousers. His physique was powerful and commanding, his fair skin flawless, his jawline sharp, his nose straight, and his lips thin yet perfectly shaped.
Born into power, he had inherited immense responsibility at a young age as the heir to Whitmore Company Ltd — the largest and most prestigious company in the world. Feared by many, he was known for his ruthless, dangerous, and intimidating nature. His name alone commanded both fear and respect. A cold room grew colder in his presence, and even warmth seemed to fade around him. To many, he was the devil in human form — every step he took was precise, calculated, and controlled.
Ezra helped him into his long black coat, which only amplified his already dangerous aura. Picking up his suitcase, Sebastian walked out.
Inside the luxurious car, he sat with his eyes closed once more, as though nothing in the world could stir his interest. His elbow rested against the window, fingers once again touching the bridge of his nose.
"Sir, where to?" Ezra asked.
"Villa," Sebastian replied after a brief pause.
Even with the air conditioning on, the atmosphere inside the car felt suffocating. Ezra, despite working with the Whitmore family for ten years, still found it difficult to adjust. Yet, he believed that beneath that icy exterior was a kind and caring man — one that only appeared five percent of the time. As they drove through the city, a girl appeared in the middle of the road — Ezra tried to stop the car, but it was too late.
"Thud!"
Ariana lay unconscious in the hospital. After speaking with the doctor, Ezra walked out of the hospital.
"Sir, she was drunk and didn't notice the green light. She sustained a minor head injury" Ezra reported immediately as he entered the car.
"I've also left compensation details for the damages she caused, especially to the car," he added.
"Hmm," Sebastian responded with a slight frown.
And just like that, they drove off.
Ariana slowly opened her eyes, greeted by the sterile white surroundings and the sharp scent of antiseptics. Confused, she glanced around, trying to understand where she was.
Turning to her left, she saw Adrian asleep in his wheelchair.
She winced slightly as she tried to sit up, the pain in her forehead — reminding her of her injury. The movement startled Adrian awake. He quickly wheeled closer and gently pushed her back down.
"Don't strain yourself, Ari. You're still healing, just lie down." he said, his voice filled with concern.
"I'm fine, bro," Ariana insisted, forcing herself to sit up.
Her gaze wandered around the room until it landed on a paper and a business card placed neatly on the table beside her bed. She stared at them curiously.
"They were there before I got here. I haven't checked them," Adrian said, his concern now laced with irritation.
"What happened to you, Ariana? Where were you? How did you end up here?" he asked all at once.
"I don't remem–"
Her words cut off as memories came rushing back like a flood.
Ariana froze, her eyes filling with unshed tears.
Sensing her distress, Adrian gently held her hand, patting it softly.
"It's okay. I'm here. You can tell me anything — I won't judge. Just talk to me," he reassured her.
And she did. She told him everything.
"It's alright, Ari. It's his loss. You're a jewel — a rare one. You have the kindest heart I've ever seen. If he left, then he wasn't meant for you. The right man will come, and he'll appreciate you, cherish you… and thank God for you," Adrian said, his smile soft and comforting.
But beneath that gentle expression, anger burned fiercely.
"You're right," Ariana said, wiping her tears. "I'm beautiful, hardworking — I'm everything a man could want. I'm not crying over that coward anymore." Though her chest still hurts, she refused to let it break her.
Her gaze drifted back to the table. She picked up the paper and the business card.
"OMG!!!" she gasped with her hand over her mouth, trying to suppress the scream.
"What is it?" Adrian asked.
"Bro… the person I got into that accident with… it's —"
"Just say it," Adrian urged impatiently.
"It's Sebastian Whitmore!" she squealed, staring at the card in disbelief.
"Okay?" Adrian replied flatly.
Ariana stared at him as if he had grown horns.
"Bro, this is Sebastian Whitmore — the richest man in Los Angeles! One of the youngest billionaires in America! Please try to keep up with trends," she said, laughing.
She dropped the card and unfolded the paper.
Her smile instantly vanished.
"What?!" she screamed.
Adrian took the paper and read it silently, his expression unreadable.
"What the hell? Where am I supposed to get this kind of money?" Ariana exclaimed. "Yes, I made a mistake — I was drunk. But how was I supposed to know it would lead to something this expensive?" She paced slightly, frustrated — then suddenly stopped.
"Wait wait wait…" A slow, cunning smile spread across her face.
"What are you thinking, Ariana? Don't do anything reckless," Adrian warned.
"Nothing bro," she replied innocently.
"When am I getting discharged?" she asked.
"This evening," he answered.
"Good," she said, lying back down and turning away from him.
A faint smile played on her lips as she stared into the distance.
"As always, every situation comes with an opportunity, Ari… You just need to know how, and when to use it."
Her smile deepened.
"Looks like I'll be paying Whitmore Company a visit..."