NATHAN'S POINT OF VIEW
I wasn't supposed to be at Blake Modeling Enterprise today.
I had a hundred other things to do. Meetings. Contracts. Emails piling up that needed responses. But my agency manager had called this morning about a contract dispute with a major client, and I couldn't handle it over the phone.
So here I was, pulling into the parking lot, already mentally sorting through the problem.
I stepped out of my car, adjusting my blazer as I walked toward the entrance. The afternoon sun was bright, almost blinding, and I had to squint as I reached for the door handle.
That's when I saw her.
Someone was coming out at the exact same moment I was going in.
Our eyes met through the glass.
Time seemed to slow.
Elena.
I froze, my hand still on the door.
What was she doing here?
She looked just as shocked as I felt. Her eyes went wide, her lips parting slightly like she'd forgotten how to breathe.
I pushed the door open, stepping aside so she could come out.
"Elena?"
She blinked, like she was trying to make sure I was real.
"Nathan," she stammered. "What... what are you doing here?"
I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. Even in her shock, even looking exhausted and caught off guard, there was something about seeing her that made everything feel lighter.
"I could ask you the same thing," I said.
She glanced around nervously, like she was afraid someone might see us talking. People passed by us on either side, models and staff moving in and out of the building.
"I..." She hesitated, then seemed to make a decision. "I work here. I'm training. To be a model."
I stared at her.
A model.
Elena was training to be a model.
At my agency.
"You're a model?" I repeated, trying to process it.
"I'm trying to be," she said quietly. "I just started. It's... It's been hard."
I could see it in her face. The exhaustion. The strain. She looked like she'd been through a war and barely survived.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked. "I would've helped you. I could've…"
"That's exactly why I didn't tell you," she interrupted, her voice firm despite the tiredness in her eyes. "I don't want help, Nathan. I don't want anyone pulling strings for me. I want to earn this on my own."
There it was again.
That strength. That determination.
Most people in her position would've used every connection they had. But not Elena. She wanted to do it herself.
I respected that more than she probably realized.
"I understand," I said softly.
She looked relieved.
"But Elena," I continued, "you do realize where you're working, right?"
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Blake Modeling Enterprise," I said slowly. "Blake is my last name."
Her face went pale.
"What?"
"I own this company," I explained. "I'm Nathan Blake."
She just stared at me, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't find words.
"You... you own this place?"
"Yes."
"Nathan Blake," she repeated, like she was testing the words. "Your last name is Blake."
"Yes."
She took a step back, her hand going to her forehead. "I didn't know. I had no idea. I just... I saw the job posting and I applied and..."
"It's okay," I said quickly. "You didn't know."
But she wasn't listening. She looked panicked now, her breathing quickening.
"Nathan, you can't tell Alex."
I blinked. "What?"
"Please," she said, her voice desperate. "Please don't tell him I'm working here. He can't know."
I felt my chest tighten.
"Elena, why…"
"I have my reasons," she cut me off. "Please, Nathan. I'm asking you as a friend. Don't tell him."
A friend.
Is that what we were?
I looked at her, really looked at her. The fear in her eyes. The exhaustion was weighing down her shoulders. The way she kept glancing around like Alex might appear at any moment.
Something wasn't right.
Alex was my best friend. We'd known each other for years. We didn't keep secrets.
But Elena was standing in front of me, practically begging, and I couldn't say no.
"Okay," I heard myself say.
Her shoulders sagged with relief. "Really?"
"Yes. I won't tell him."
"Thank you," she breathed. "Thank you so much."
Before I could think about what I was doing, I stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.
It was brief. Friendly. Or at least, it was supposed to be.
But the moment my arms wrapped around her, something shifted.
She fit perfectly against me.
I could smell her shampoo. Something floral and light.
I could feel how tense she was, like she was holding the weight of the world on her shoulders.
And I wanted to tell her she didn't have to carry it alone.
But I couldn't.
Because she was Alex's wife.
My best friend's wife.
I pulled back quickly, clearing my throat.
"Take care of yourself, Elena," I said, my voice rougher than I intended.
"I will," she said softly. "You too."
She walked past me toward the parking lot, and I stood there, watching her go.
My chest felt tight.
I shouldn't be thinking about her this way.
I shouldn't be noticing the way her hair caught the sunlight or the way her voice softened when she said my name.
She was Alex's wife.
Off limits.
Completely off limits.
But as I watched her car pull away, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Henry's number.
Henry was Alex's assistant. The one who knows almost everything that goes on around Alex.
If anyone knew what was really going on, it was him.
The phone rang twice before he picked up.
"Nathan? What's up?"
"I need to ask you something," I said, pacing near the entrance. "About Alex and Elena."
There was a pause.
"What about them?"
"Their marriage," I said carefully. "Something feels off. Why would Elena be scared of Alex? Why does she look so exhausted? What's really going on, Henry?"
Silence stretched on the other end.
"Henry?"
"Nathan," he said slowly, "that's not my place to say."
"Come on, Henry. You are close to Alex. You know something."
"And that's exactly why I can't talk about it," Henry said firmly. "It's not my job to explain their marriage to you. If you want answers, ask Alex. Not me."
Frustration boiled in my chest. "Henry…"
"I'm serious, Nathan. This isn't something I can discuss. Talk to Alex."
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone.
Henry had refused to talk.
Which meant there was something to hide.
Something big enough that even Henry wouldn't touch it.
I got in my car and drove.
Not back into Blake Modeling. I didn't need to be there anymore. The contract issue could wait.
I headed to my main office. The headquarters of Blake Enterprises, the company I'd built from the ground up. Blake Modeling was just one branch. Real estate, investments, tech startups. I had my hands in a lot of things.
But right now, I couldn't focus on any of it.
My mind kept circling back to Elena.
To the fear in her eyes.
To the way she'd asked me not to tell Alex.
I parked and took the elevator up to my floor.
My assistant, Claire, stood up the moment she saw me.
"Mr. Blake, you have a visitor."
I barely looked at her, still distracted. "Who?"
"Mr. Reyes," she said carefully. "He's been waiting in your office for about ten minutes."
My heart stopped.
"Alex is here?"
"Yes, sir. He said it was important."
I forced myself to stay calm. To keep my expression neutral.
"Thank you, Claire."
I walked toward my office door, my pulse pounding in my ears.
Why was Alex here?
Did he know I'd seen Elena?
Did someone tell him?
Was he suspicious?
I opened the door.
Alex was sitting in my chair.
Behind my desk.
Like he owned the place.
He had a glass of whiskey in his hand, pulled from the bar cabinet in the corner. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were ice cold.
He looked up slowly when I entered.
"Nathan," he said. "We need to talk."
I closed the door behind me, my mind racing.
I didn't know what Alex knew.
But I knew one thing for certain.
Alex's expression was unreadable. But I knew one thing for certain: this conversation wouldn't end well.