Alexander’s POV
I sit in the dimly lit lounge of my family’s hotel, the only place that has ever felt like a sanctuary. The air is thick with the scent of aged whiskey and polished wood, and the low hum of jazz plays in the background. Here, I can breathe—at least, I used to.
I gulp down my drink, the burn trailing down my throat before I drop the glass onto the table with a loud thud. It echoes in the silence, but nothing drowns out the memories flooding my mind. Isabel’s face. The way she ignored my presence, focusing on Carl like I wasn’t even there. The way she smiled when she admitted to trying to sabotage the condo project by requesting the material cancellation.
I don’t even know her anymore.
They say people change when they have money, but maybe it’s not just that. Maybe she fo
