Chapter 3
1266 Words
JFK Airport – Private Runway.
The jet door was hissed with a mechanical noise, pressurizing the air. Like a blade, the cold New York wind blew through me. It gave off the same fragrance as gasoline, ambition and an ever-increasing emptiness.'".
I threw my coat around my shoulders while my fingers worked the velvet lining. It wasn't just another flight landing. I had a new beginning.
Three years.
My world had crumbled under the weight of betrayal for three years. I had to leave my own party in handcuffs, causing damage to my reputation and losing my company. Considering that the world had perceived me as nothing more than an embarrassment.
Nevertheless, I was no longer that woman.
I had been resurrected in the heat of exile.
My next move was to set fire to Damien Moreau.
The top of the stairs was guarded by a slim, black Rolls-Royce Phantom, its polished frame reflecting the gray sky above. The back door suddenly opened as soon as my heels hit the tarmac, suggesting that the man on the ground had sensed me before I disembarked the plane.
No introductions were required from Rafael De Luca.
He emerged from the vehicle, his movements smooth and deliberate. He was dressed in a tailored navy suit, his thin frame and broad shoulders being highlighted by crisp lines. He had dark eyes that covered my skin, hard as nails, his mouth curved into something that didn't seem to be smiling but still contained a hint of amusement.
Upon meeting him, I gazed straight in. "You're late.".
His eyebrows raised. "The plane landed without delay.".
I jerked back, tweaking the tone of my skin. "Sorry.".
His lips swung open. "Are you already disturbed?".
It was like a piece of treacherous silk that flew off his tongue.
With a steady, assured smile, I said: 'Just an observation.
Although he didn't move or speak, I felt the weight of his gaze over me as I assessed. After that with a slight head turn, he slowly moved his gaze back to the car and pointed it out as its front door was open.
“Get in.”.
Moreau Corporation – Lobby.
As soon as I stepped through the glass doors of Moreau Corporation, the world began to move slower.
Conversations cut off mid-sentence. As people looked on, their eyes widen and their mouths part in disbelief, the marble drenched in stiletto heels. The scene was remarkable. A stunned silence arose as the sounds from the printers and keyboards vanished into thin air.
The piercing presence of their eyes and the whispered noises that traileted behind me were haunting.
Is that—?
It can't be….
She should have been locked up!'.
Both intrigue and terror were evident in the whispers.
Good.
I didn't rush. Walking at a steady pace, I let the tension build as the pressure mounts, the heat rising from the sky.
At the front desk, a receptionist who was unable to attend during my time as CEO froze and stared at me like an apparition. Her fingers were on the keyboard.
Slow and deliberate, I smiled. “Send Damien his sister.”.
The girl swallowed with great force as her throat swelleth. "He'll be in a meeting.".
I was met with Rafael, who stood nearby in a state of meekness. "I have no memory of asking.".
Hands shaking, she desperately tried to pick up the phone.
The elevator dinged.
I turned.
And there he was.
Damien Moreau.
My brother.
He who had sped me down, took away my belongings and left me to die in exile while he assumed authority.
Just for brief intervals, his gleaming mask disappeared. He grasped his phone tightly, his jaw muscle ached as he confirmed that I wasn't phantom or hallucination.
The mask returned as quickly as before. He stepped forward, his lips curving with a slow smile, and adjusted the cuffs of his expensive suit....for now.
He drew a blank, his voice as sharp as the scent of poisoned honey. "It's unexpected.".
I lowered my head and looked over him, "You look like you've seen a ghost.".
He smilyred with an increase in intensity. "I believed you were deceased.".
With a sharp smile, I returned the reply. "You're not interested in that," I replied.
His eyes flicked to Rafael, standing at ease beside me, his presence exuding quiet authority.
“And I see you've found yourself… new company.” Damien's tone was light, but there was a sharpness beneath it, a calculation.
Rafael slipped his hands into his pockets, his expression one of bored amusement. “Careful, fratello.”.
Damien raised a brow. “Is that a threat?”.
Rafael's smile was slow. Lethal. “Observation.”.
The air between them crackled.
I crossed my arms. “Are you going to invite us up, or should we do this here? I'm sure your employees would love a show.”.
Damien studied me for a long moment, then sighed as if this were all an inconvenience. “Fine.” He gestured toward the elevators. Then, looking at Rafael, he added, “But your attack dog stays outside.”.
Rafael stepped closer, his voice dropping to a smooth, dangerous murmur. “You misunderstand. I don't stay anywhere I don't want to.”.
I bit back a smirk.
Damien's jaw twitched.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked toward the elevator.
I followed.
Moreau Corporation – Executive Office.
The office was the same.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Sleek black furniture. Shelves lined with books neither of us had ever read but kept for the aesthetic.
It had been mine.
And now Damien sat behind my desk, legs stretching out in a display of casual dominance, as if the last three years had erased any claim I had to it.
He leaned back, studying me. “You're still alive. That's… unexpected.”.
I met his gaze evenly. “I've always been hard to kill.”.
“Not for lack of trying.”.
My lips curled. “Admitting it already?”.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Please. If I'd wanted you dead, you wouldn't be standing here.”.
Rafael let out a low hum. “Bold statement.”.
Damien disregarded him, his eyes fixed on mine. "You should have stayed put.". There's nothing for you here.
I trailed a finger along the desk's edge, slow, deliberate. “I disagree.”.
He exhaled. “What do you want?”.
I leaned in, pressing my palms against the desk. “My company. My name. My life.”.
Damien sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Alessa—”.
I cut him off. “And I want to watch you lose.”.
Silence stretched between us.
Then he laughed.
A slow, amused chuckle, as if this were all some grand joke.
He stood, walking around the desk until he was just a breath away. “You think you can take me down?”.
I didn't flinch.
I smiled. “Watch me.”.
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes.
Real hesitation.
Then, just as quickly, it was gone. He exhaled, stepping back. “Well, this is going to be fun.”.
I turned, heading for the door.
Just as I reached it, his voice followed.
“You should have stayed dead, sorella.”.
I paused.
Then, without looking back—.
“I came back to bury you, fratello.”.
And I walked out.
- Writer
