Alexander Steele did not remember the last time a conversation made him genuinely choke on his own saliva, but Nicole Vance had achieved it.
Dinner on the rooftop had been picture perfect, soft lights, curated jazz, two glasses of aged wine, an expensive meal plated like a museum piece.
Until she brought up the marriage talk.
"Alexander, I want a date. And no more excuses."
He wasn't even allowed a full second to swallow before she continued:
"My parents are done waiting. Your father has already promised them. We're not teenagers. It's time we make this official."
He had blinked. Calm. Civil. Trying to steer the conversation to literally any other topic,investors, charities, the weather, nuclear war, anything was safer than marriage.
She didn't care.
She'd thrown down the fork, slashed the evening in half with her voice, and left the mansion as if she owned every marble tile.
He would've paid money to erase that moment from history.
He was still deep in thoughts when Ethan strolled in and he knew immediately.
Probably because he strolled into the lounge with a bag of chips and a look that screamed popcorn worthy drama.
"Let me guess," he said as he flopped onto a sofa, "Miss Vance demanded the royal wedding date again."
Alex stared at him.
Ethan only widened his grin.
"Yeah," Alex muttered. "That."
"On a scale of one to ten, how close were you to jumping off the rooftop?"
Alex massaged the bridge of his nose. "Twelve."
Ethan whistled. "Yikes. She's upgrading."
He tossed Alex the snack bag.
Alex didn't bother opening it.
"You know what her problem is?" Ethan asked. "She thinks your last name is the only valid part of your identity. She fell in love with Steele Industries. Not Alexander."
"That's not entirely...."
"Don't defend her." Ethan cut in.
Alex didn't argue because , he couldn't.The worst part?
It wasn't Nicole's obsession that suffocated him, it was the world's expectation of him.
CEO son.Future chairman.
Poster boy of a billion-dollar empire.
" Do you ever think about living a normal life?" Alex said suddenly.
Ethan laughed as if he'd just been told unicorns were real.
"Buddy, your definition of 'normal' is that your private jet only has one bedroom."
"Be serious."
Ethan leaned back, eyes softening. "Okay. Shoot."
Alex swallowed, choosing his words carefully.
"I mean being able to walk down the street without security. Not having to pretend every second. Not being judged based on my last name. Just existing."
Ethan stared at him like he'd just admitted he wanted to join a circus.
"You want to be… average?"
"No. I want to be human."
A beat of silence.
Then Ethan exhaled.
"Damn. That's deep. Should I order a therapist?"
Alex rolled his eyes.
But the feeling dug deeper into his bones ,a craving for air he hadn't realized he'd been starving for.
If he didn't do something soon, he'd suffocate in his own gold cage.
Ethan continued, in that annoyingly casual tone of his:
"You know why we're best friends? I can tell you the truth. So here it is: you don't hate Nicole,she just represents everything you're trying to escape. Faulty timing, wrong energy, wrong version of you."
Alex didn't speak.
Not because Ethan was wrong,
but because he was painfully right.
He pressed a hand against his jaw, staring out the window.
The city buzzed below ,alive, unfiltered, anonymous.
A life that belonged to everyone but him.
And then,a thought.A wild one.
Not planned, not mature, not responsible.
But electric.
What if… I try living like them?
Not Alexander Steele, heir and brand.
Just Alex.
Unseen,unannounced.
With no title or a myth.
He bit back a smile.
No one needed to know,not even Ethan.
It would be stupid, probably reckless but at the same time,it will be freedom.
Mia
Mia Brooks rested her cheek against her pillow, one arm hugging the fabric like it was a safety float.
She dialed quickly.
She didn't even bother checking the time.
Her mom answered almost instantly.
"Hey, baby. Everything okay?"
The relief in her voice was automatic, maternal, familiar. It made Mia smile.
"Yeah, Mom. Just wanted to check on you guys. How's Liam?"
"He finally knocked out," her mom said, laughing softly. "I think he wore himself out chasing the neighbor's dog. He's growing so fast."
Mia relaxed, every tight muscle easing.
She pictured her son,sleepy, cheeks warm, lashes long like his mother's.
"Tell him I love him," she murmured.
"I will."
A pause.
One of those quiet ones where worry hangs, unspoken.
"We're managing," her mom continued. "I'm stretching groceries as best I can. Rent's still a headache, but we'll figure it out."
Mia chewed her lip.
She always did that when guilt hit.
"I'm sending money at the end of the month," she said. "I promise. Just… hold on a little."
There was a sharp inhale on the other side. A crack of relief.
"Oh honey,thank God. Thank you."
Mia swallowed hard.
"And Mom… I got a job."
Silence,then a small gasp.
"You're serious?"
"Yeah," Mia said softly, smiling to herself. "It's good. Really good. Big house, polite staff, private room… bed's like a cloud."
Her mom laughed.
A real laugh,the kind she hadn't heard in months.
"You deserve that, Mia. After everything? You deserve a break."
She blinked tears she hadn't expected.
"It feels like… maybe things are changing."
"They will," her mom said.
Firm.
Believing.
The way moms do.
"When you get paid, we'll sort Liam's preschool. You'll breathe easier. I'll breathe easier. We finally get to climb out of this hole."
That hope wrapped around Mia like a blanket.
"Goodnight, Mom."
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
The call ended.
She stared at the ceiling,heart full, hope alive.
She didn't know that somewhere in the same building where she cooked meals and cleaned counters, her mysterious billionaire boss was planning to meet her…
as no one she expected.
Not the Steele heir.
Not her employer.
Just a stranger in the crowd.
A spark of adventure was already burning.
She just didn't know she was the match.