Mirabelle’s POV:
I had researched enough to know that this was where he liked to spend his afternoons these days.
Rumors of his drinking problem had been circulating for weeks, and if I was honest with myself, I would have chosen this bar precisely because I knew there was a chance of running into him.
A voice in my head whispered that maybe, deep down, I’d hoped to see him here. That I would come looking for a distraction. But I shoved the thought aside, choosing to believe that this was all just a coincidence.
I arched an eyebrow at him, trying to feign surprise. “Ken. What a… coincidence.”
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he took the seat beside me. “What brings you here, Mirabelle?”
I shrugged, glancing back down at my phone. “I could ask you the same.”
Ken chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in the sound. “I guess you still haven’t sorted out your issue with Noah, have you?”
I shot him a sharp look. “We’re good, Ken,” I said flatly. I could feel my defenses rising.
“Really?” He leaned back in his seat. “Are you truly okay with the idea of your husband working so closely with such a hot model? I’m sure the business trip would be very… productive.”
The jab was deliberate, and I hated the way it stung. “Who’s been feeding you all this nonsense?” I demanded, my voice colder than I’d intended.
Ken hesitated, his expression shifted to something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s all over social media, darling,” he said finally, the word rolling off his tongue.
“Don’t you dare call me ‘darling,'” I snapped, the word scraping against my nerves.
“What do you prefer, then?” Ken’s tone was teasing, infuriatingly calm as he leaned closer. “Honey? Sweetheart? Babe?”
Before I could stop myself, I slammed my hands on the bar, the sound echoing in the quiet space. I stood up abruptly, my eyes blazing as I glared at him. “You are impossible,” I hissed.
Ken only looked back at me with a slight smirk, the kind that made me want to throw my drink in his face. But I didn’t. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
Just then, the bartender arrived with my cocktail, his eyes darting between us as if sensing the tension. “Ma’am, your martini,” he said, holding the glass out, but I barely glanced at him.
Without another word, I turned on my heel and stormed away, leaving the drink untouched. The bartender called out after me, but I didn’t care. I needed to get out of there.
*****
Natasha’s POV
Natasha’s Obsession
Natasha’s POV
The room was just the way I liked it-dark. The soft, red glow of the chandelier above is the only light. I sink deeper into the plush armchair, feeling the silk of my lingerie skim across my skin.
A cigarette dangles from my fingertips, the smoke swirling lazily into the still air. There’s something about this darkness that feels like power-something that reminds me of control.
I reached over, picking my phone up from the side table. Scrolling down the familiar list of names until I find the one I need-Mr. Ali. I pressed the call button and waited.
Three rings, then he answered.
“Ma’am, I’m on my way to the airport,” he says, efficient as always. “I should be in Shanghai soon.”
I smile, but it’s not a warm smile. “Change of plans, Ali,” I say smoothly. “I don’t want you in Shanghai. Stay in Hong Kong for a while. I’ll call you when I need you.”
There was a hesitation on the other end, but I’m not interested in hearing his objections. “But-”
“No buts.” My voice sharpened. I don’t have time for his objections. “Do exactly as I say, Ali. Stay put.”
There’s a pause, and then his voice returns. “Of course, ma’am.”
I didn’t waste time on goodbyes. I hang up, placing the phone back on the table. He’ll do as he’s told; he always does.
I lift my champagne glass and take a slow sip, the cold bubbles dancing on my tongue. Everything was moving according to plan.
Noah was where I wanted him, and Mirabelle… Well, she was going to lose him. She just didn’t know it yet.
I lean back, the glass still in my hand, and let my mind wander. It’s strange how it all started-how a simple mention of Noah’s name could unravel everything I thought I’d left behind.
But some things, like obsession, never truly fade.
Months ago, when I’d come to Shanghai as an ambassador, I hadn’t expected to hear his name again. But there it was-Noah Sylvester. I’d learned that his company had eyes on a piece of land-land that my generous boyfriend had gifted me.
A man more than twice my age, whose money and connections had made him useful, until now. The moment I knew Noah wanted that land, something inside me awakened.
It was like a switch had flipped.
I disrupted his plans with a few phone calls-delays and endless complications. It had been almost too easy. I’d smiled every time I heard of his frustration, every time another obstacle appeared.
And then, I called in a favor with Mr. Qiang Zhao-a man who owed me more than he could ever repay.
“Qiang,” I had said, my voice sweet as sugar, “I have a business proposition for you. There’s a company owned by one Noah Sylvester’s company that is desperate to open a branch in China. I want you to offer him an investment opportunity, but there’s a catch.”
“A… catch?” he had asked nervously, knowing he had no choice but to listen.
“Yes,” I had purred, savoring the power I held over him. “You’ll make the investment on the condition that he has to work directly with me. No intermediaries, no assistants-just him and me.”
He’d hesitated, but we both knew he couldn’t refuse me. He was trapped, just like I wanted Noah to be.
I sip more champagne, feeling the memory linger.
I suddenly recalled Noah’s face when I’d approached him about the land being priceless. He thought he was so clever, so in control, but he had no idea what I’d already set in motion.
Setting him up with Ali was never about the money; it was about getting close to him again, about tying him to me in a way he couldn’t escape.