The ride to the police station felt endless. The patrol car smelled faintly of old coffee and dust, its siren off but its authority heavy in the air. Andrea sat in the backseat, wrists cold from the metal cuffs that dug lightly into his skin. His reflection in the glass window stared back at him—tired, furious, and humiliated.He had faced tougher situations in life, but this—being framed in front of everyone, called a thief when he had done nothing wrong—cut deeper than anything else.The officers didn’t speak much, just exchanged brief looks through the rearview mirror. When they arrived at the station, one of them opened the door.“Step out, sir.”Andrea complied silently. The sound of his shoes against the concrete echoed in the hallway as they led him to a small interrogation room. It was plain—gray walls, one flickering light, and a metal table with two chairs.He sat, arms on the table, while one officer placed a small recorder in front of him.“State your full name.”“Andrea C

In as much as Gracie wanted to believe Andrea, she couldn’t bring herself to. His tone, his eyes — they had been too sincere. But still… it sounded impossible. Andrea? The quiet, humble intern who always wore the same shoe and never boasted about anything — the heir to one of the most powerful families in the country?She let out a quiet sigh and stirred her coffee absentmindedly. Maybe he was just joking around to cover something up. Maybe he’d seen the wristwatch somewhere else and didn’t want to tell her how. There were a thousand possibilities, but one thing was clear — Andrea wasn’t someone who lied easily. He was too straightforward for that.“Maybe he’s just teasing me,” she muttered under her breath as she looked at her reflection in the coffee shop window. The thought made her smile, but something in her chest refused to dismiss his words completely.---Later that evening, the mansion was quiet except for the faint sound of piano music drifting from the living room. Gracie’s

The tension that had filled the air slowly melted as the night deepened. The candle flames danced softly between them, flickering like secret whispers. The waiter poured wine into crystal glasses, and the light caught the crimson liquid like liquid fire.Gracie’s gaze kept drifting to Andrea — to the calm confidence that wrapped around him so effortlessly. She’d always known there was something different about him, something he hid behind those quiet smiles and gentle words. Now, seeing him like this, everything started to make sense.Andrea lifted his glass slightly. “To truth,” he said, his voice smooth and steady.Gracie hesitated, then clinked her glass gently against his. “And to surprises,” she added, smiling faintly.They took a sip in silence, the atmosphere between them shifting from awkward to something softer — something real.Andrea leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on her. “You’re calmer than I expected,” he said, teasingly. “Most people panic or ask for proof when I te

The morning sun filtered through the tall glass windows of WhiteWater Corporation, bathing the polished marble floors in a soft golden glow. The air smelled faintly of coffee and disinfectant — that quiet hum of productivity that always filled the office before the day’s chaos began.But today, the chaos wasn’t going to come from the work.It was walking right through the main doors.Mrs. Evangelia stepped inside, her heels clicking sharply on the floor with every step. She was dressed in a tailored cream suit, diamonds glittering at her ears, and a purse worth more than some people’s yearly salary. Heads turned immediately. She didn’t belong in this world of ordinary employees and whispered deadlines — she radiated authority, but also venom. Her beauty had the polished sharpness of a knife that had never dulled with age.Her eyes darted around the lobby until they fell on the front desk.“You,” she said coldly to the receptionist. “I’m here to see Andrea. The gold digger who works he

When Andrea and Maria got home that evening, the air in the mansion was unusually still.The city lights flickered through the tall glass windows, bathing the living room in a soft, golden glow. Mrs. Veronica sat elegantly on the velvet couch, legs crossed, her reading glasses perched on her nose as she scrolled through her iPad. The calm expression she wore suddenly hardened — her lips pressed into a thin line.Her fingers paused on the screen.Her eyes narrowed.“Unbelievable,” she muttered.Andrea noticed the tension immediately. “Mom?” he asked, walking closer. “What’s wrong?”Mrs. Veronica turned the screen toward him. On it was a headline blazing in bold red letters across a gossip site:> ‘Wealthy Socialite Confronts WhiteWater Employee — Claims CEO and Worker Are Secret Lovers!’— By the Society Watch NewsroomBeneath it was a series of photos — grainy, but clear enough. Mrs. Evangelia, standing in front of WhiteWater’s building, pointing at Andrea while yelling, with a few wo