That night, Mia couldn’t sleep. The moonlight spilled across her room, silver and cold, painting delicate shapes on the floor. She sat before her mirror, brushing her hair in slow, distracted strokes. The rhythm should have soothed her, but her thoughts wouldn’t rest. Leon had spoken for her today… he had decided her path without asking. And the strangest part was, this was something he had never done before now. Part of her wanted to be angry. He had stood before everyone, betting all their pride and reputation on her success as if he owned the result too! When she knew the reality, he didn't even own the clothes on his back…surviving on torn and worn out hand- me- downs from her father and cousins. But beneath the indignation, another emotion flickered, which was harder to name. It was faith. “You’ll succeed,” he had said earlier, voice calm and absolute, like a statement of fact rather than encouragement. That quiet certainty lingered now, echoing in her mind when everythin

When Mia returned to the Quinn residence that evening, the house was already in chaos.The sound of clinking teacups, the low murmur of voices, the faint smell of expensive perfume—it was all the same, yet everything felt sharper, more brittle. Every eye turned toward her the moment the front door opened.Clara was sitting at the head of the living room, dressed impeccably as always, her spine straight, her expression cold. The others were scattered across the sofas, whispering, waiting—hungry for a spectacle.Mia stepped inside quietly. Her hands were empty; she hadn’t even brought the folder back.That small detail didn’t escape anyone’s notice.Clara’s eyes narrowed. “Where are the documents?”Mia didn’t answer right away. She just stood there, her gaze calm, her posture neither defensive nor proud—simply… still.The silence stretched, taut and unbearable.Clara slammed her teacup down, the porcelain clinking against the saucer. “Enough! You’re dismissed from the company!”The word

Marina’s private number was glowing on her phone like a random line of digits above a banner that declared “ringing”. Yet, it felt like a towering wall she had no strength left to climb. Her fingers trembled. Her pulse thudded in her ears. A hot knot of humiliation swelled in her chest. Clara’s voice, Beverly’s taunts, Lisa’s brother’s sneering smirk… all of it pressed against her until she could barely breathe. She had done everything right, fought for a contract no one believed she could secure, and still... still, it wasn’t enough in their eyes. She was being questioned like a criminal, cornered like prey. And now she was being forced to beg for help from the very executive she had already worked tirelessly to impress.Leon stood a few steps behind her, his presence quiet but solid. His gaze rested on her with an unreadable calm, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t reach out. He didn’t intervene. He only watched her, as if sensing her turmoil and silently acknowledging her need

Mia finally released a breath she had been holding for a few minutes, that actually felt like an eternity within itself. The moment Marina left the Quinn residence, the tension in her chest shifted a little, making space for some oxygen to settle in. Clara’s interrogation, the accusations, the humiliation of being forced to make that call… all of it was over. At least for a few moments, she could just relax without the tension of what was going to happen the next moment.She stepped into the hallway, leaning briefly against the wall, taking the support that her desperately needed. The crisis had passed, and she had done everything asked of her.Thankfully, Marina’s calm professionalism and her clear confirmation of the contract, had silenced even Clara.But relief didn’t erase everything, and specifically not her confusion, or the uneasiness twisting inside her. She wasn't the kind of person to quietly gather all the apples falling in her lap without stopping to question where they

Leon left the house with a quiet excitement bubbling in his heart, while the longer he thought, the more sure he got about his plan. The thought had taken root the night before and refused to loosen its grip: Mia deserved a real wedding. Not the rushed, colorless formality they’d had. Not the lonely walk to a registrar’s office. Not the empty room where her grandfather’s fading breaths were the only witnesses.She deserved silk, chandeliers, flowers flown in from continents away. She deserved to walk toward him in a gown fit for the woman she had become, elegant, steady, resilient.So he would start there, with the gown.The perfect gown.The most exquisite piece he could find, worthy not just of her beauty, but of the future he planned to give her. Something that could silently say: I should have done this sooner.With that resolve hardening inside him, he stepped into the most luxurious bridal boutique in the district.The moment he crossed the threshold, the world shifted.Crystal