The spring rain brought a damp chill that seeped into everything.

Ariyah Griffin paced beneath the glass atrium of AEI Equity’s Manhattan headquarters, the sharp click of her stilettos echoing off the terrazzo floors. Her phone lit up with alerts from every major financial news outlet: “AEI Equity CEO Returns with Mistress and Secret Child.” The story had already shot to the top of the trending list, setting the entire financial world ablaze with gossip.

“Ariyah, my contact at the airport just confirmed that Mr. Kelly’s car has left the terminal,” her assistant Joan reported as she approached, carrying a dripping umbrella. “And yes—he’s with a woman and a child.”

Ariyah’s fists clenched, humiliation and fury churning inside her. Forcing herself to stay composed, she gave a short nod, slid on her sunglasses, and said, “Let’s go upstairs.”

The revolving door swept in a gust of humid wind, teasing the hem of her beige trench coat. Five years ago, when her father fell gravely ill, terrified she’d have no one in her corner, she’d rushed through a string of blind dates and settled on a promising investment banking intern.

Under her guidance, that intern had climbed to CEO of AEI Equity and become a name the whole industry recognized. With media interviews and partnership offers pouring in, Milo Kelly caught the eye of Solstice Capital, one of New York’s leading investment firms, and was invited to work on international projects. After that, frequent trips abroad became his new normal.

Now Milo had returned in the glow of a Wall Street acquisition—and he’d brought a “gift” that felt like a knife to the chest. Looking back, those overseas trips, the missed anniversaries and birthdays, the thoughtless handbags instead of real effort, all pointed to this exact scandal.

She glanced at the photos Joan had sent her: Milo on a New York street, wearing the expensive suit she’d bought him, one hand intertwined with a slim, short-haired woman, the other balancing a toddler on his hip. The picture practically screamed happy family.

Ding—

The numbers on the glass elevator froze, and Ariyah stepped into the executive lounge, shoulders squared.

“Oh my God, did you hear? Mr. Kelly actually brought a woman back!” A group of interns clustered by the windows, whispering excitedly. “They say he’s been living with her overseas, and the kid already calls him Dad!”

“No way... I thought it was just rumors! Didn’t he and Ariyah already get their marriage license? Their wedding invitations just went out last month!”

“Tsk, tsk. Men never fail to outdo themselves—in the worst way possible.”

Ariyah’s palms were sweating, her nails leaving red crescents in her skin. Her father’s dying words echoed in her mind: “Baby, I’m leaving AEI Equity to you. The senior board members will help, but I’m scared you won’t have anyone to protect you...”

And what had she promised? Through tears, she’d sworn that Milo would be her fortress.

She’d trusted her judgment. Milo had seemed capable, hardworking. With the right direction, success had felt inevitable.

But even with everything she’d handed him, Milo had cast her aside without a second thought. Returning with another woman and a child was a slap in the face—his indifference on full display. Fury clawed at her chest, tears burned behind her eyes, and her breathing turned ragged. She dug through her bag, sending its contents spilling out. Grabbing a pack of cigarettes, she stumbled into the emergency stairwell.

Yesterday, she’d brushed off the rumors circulating in their inner circle. Today, the news wouldn’t let her breathe. Since morning, Joan’s phone had been blowing up—partners and investors calling to confirm if it was true. Ariyah’s head was pounding.

In her daze, the motion-sensor lights in the stairwell suddenly cut out. She missed a step, but the scent of tobacco and cedar wrapped around her before she could fall.

A man’s arm caught her, steadying her. The fine fabric of his tailored suit brushed her wrist. He stopped her tumble down the stairs.

“Be careful,” he said, his deep voice steady in a way that reminded her of her father—something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She looked up and met his gaze, his eyes dark and deep as a lake. An obsidian tie pin gleamed coldly at his collar, and his cufflinks bore a rare double-S crest—the insignia exclusive to Solstice Capital’s board members.

“Thank you,” Ariyah said, quickly regaining her composure as she stepped back. Joan, alerted by the noise, hurried over and planted herself between them.

“Who are you?” Joan demanded.

“Just a passerby. The lady nearly took a fall, so I lent a hand,” the man replied, lowering his arm and nodding politely.

Joan glanced at Ariyah for confirmation; she hesitated, then gave a small nod.

“Let’s head back inside.”

They started to walk away, but Ariyah suddenly stopped and turned. In the emergency lighting, the man’s face lingered in shadow—but she recognized it from the financial headlines. The new head of Solstice Capital.

“Wait... is he Pablo?”

The man, already heading down the stairs, let out a soft chuckle. “Milo has had his share of luck. But luck doesn’t last forever.”

Downstairs, a roar of noise erupted. Financial journalists trained their lenses on the figures emerging from a car. Milo opened a black umbrella, shielding the woman holding the child. Flashbulbs turned the falling rain into silver threads. Ariyah stood at the glass curtain wall, twisting the engagement ring on her finger—the three-carat diamond biting into her knuckle.

In the parking garage, Pablo ran into Matthew Robertson, who had been waiting for him. He walked over with a smile.

“What took you so long?” Matthew asked, waving his phone. “Come on, the car’s in Section B.”

Pablo nodded, hands buried in his coat pockets, his mood visibly lighter.

“What’s got you in such a good mood today?”

“I’ve decided to settle down and get married,” Pablo said.

Matthew froze, jaw dropping. “To who?”

His mind raced—there hadn’t been a single whisper about Pablo having a girlfriend. This was Pablo. The city’s most eligible bachelor, a top investment banker, and six feet of drop-dead gorgeous!

Suitors practically camped outside his office, yet he’d never given any of them a second glance.

Pablo took a few strides, then stopped and turned back to face Matthew. “Ariyah Griffin.”

“Oh, so her name’s Ariyah... Wait!” Matthew’s voice jumped. “That name is way too familiar!”

“No way... Ariyah Griffin from AEI Equity?”

Pablo nodded. “Who else?”

“Dude, have you lost your mind? Her family is all over the news today. Why the hell would you jump into that right now?”

Matthew broke into a sweat.

“Wait... have you been dating her this whole time? This is even messier! How are you going to handle the PR fallout? I need to call the PR team, like, now...”

Pablo rolled his eyes, ignoring Matthew’s wave of panic as he climbed into the car.

In the CEO’s office, Milo Kelly walked in with the woman and child beside him, not even bothering to hide his intentions. The woman clung to his arm with a soft, fragile air.

The moment the door opened and Ariyah Griffin met Milo’s gaze, a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. He swallowed hard and pulled himself together, all too aware of the woman at his side.

Before Ariyah could get a word out, her assistant Joan moved fast—snatching the bottle of water from the table and flinging it at the woman’s shoulder, drenching her tailored sheath dress and hair.

The woman stumbled back, eyes filling with tears.

“Joan! What the hell is wrong with you?” Milo shouted, visibly rattled.

“Oops. My hand slipped,” Joan said flatly. Since graduation, she had been more like family to Ariyah than an assistant, and she couldn’t stomach what Milo had become—a man who’d started as a broke intern and now acted like he’d built everything on his own.

Milo’s jaw tightened as he took a step toward Joan. He wouldn’t dare lay a hand on Ariyah, but Joan was just an employee. What gave her the right to get in his way?

“Try it,” Ariyah warned coolly from the sofa. Her coffee had gone lukewarm. She set the cup down. The show Milo was putting on had her raising an eyebrow. “What’s your angle, Milo?”

Her gaze slid to the short-haired woman in the expensive cream silk wrap dress, a Gucci bag clutched in her hand. The little girl beside her—maybe two years old—peeked out from behind Milo, shy and wide-eyed.

Milo had clearly spared no expense. The sight sent a sharp, stinging pain through Ariyah’s chest.

Milo licked his dry lips and tugged at his collar. “I admit I’ve wronged you, Ariyah, but let’s be real. Did you or your father ever actually treat me like family?”

“To you, I was just nothing more than a glorified workhorse,” he went on, his voice rising with fresh resolve. Today, he was done hiding Alyssa Jenkins and their daughter, Avayah. It was time they got what they deserved.

“A glorified workhorse?” Ariyah let out a dry laugh. “You never saw yourself that way. If anything, you thought you were a diamond in the rough—destined for greatness.”

She knew exactly why Milo had the nerve to pull this stunt in her company. Six months earlier, he’d come to her about a merger. The other side insisted on negotiating only with the primary shareholder. Moved by his emotional plea, Ariyah had transferred all her shares to him, making Milo the sole controlling power at AEI Equity.

Her kindness had become the knife he now twisted in her back—the farmer and the viper all over again.

“Milo, don’t let Ariyah’s sarcasm get to you. This isn’t entirely your fault,” Alyssa interjected, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “Blame me—just don’t target Milo or our daughter.”

Joan wished she’d thrown glue instead of water. Anything to shut this woman up for good.

Ariyah rose and walked toward Alyssa, studying her like something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “And who are you to speak?”

She shifted her gaze to Milo. “A little loneliness, I could understand. But this choice of yours? Questionable. No amount of luxury can hide how ordinary she is. Where did you even find her?”

“Milo,” Ariyah said, her voice dripping with scorn, “is she a diplomat’s daughter? Raised in luxury, with impeccable character?”

Impeccable character? Ariyah nearly laughed. Since when did people of good character break up a marriage and become the other woman?

“I’m not here to fight with you, Ariyah. I admit I made mistakes, and I’m asking you to let it go. I’ll compensate you for part of the shares you gave me,” Milo said, as if he were being gracious.

Ariyah turned slightly, watching him with cold detachment. That face—she’d known it for years—but she was seeing it clearly for the first time. He actually spoke as if she should be grateful.

Before she could respond, Alyssa stepped forward, voice thick with emotion. “Milo, love is about timing. I was naïve to believe true love could conquer everything.”

“Don’t fight with Ariyah, Milo. She’s been through enough. I’m not asking for a title. Just being by your side is enough for me.”

Ariyah smirked. “If your love is so pure, why doesn’t Milo walk away with nothing? Give back the shares, the house, the car. Live without all those material burdens. How about that?”

She’d run into the other woman’s type before. Women who believed true love had chosen them. It was a special kind of delusion—one men were only too happy to feed.

Sure enough, Alyssa hesitated. Panic flickered in her eyes before she pulled the child closer and shrank back.

“I’m willing to sacrifice, but our child is innocent. Her future shouldn’t suffer.”

Ariyah laughed once and turned away, done with the fake performance.

“You have two choices: Milo leaves the company—or she packs up and leaves the city.”

Milo exploded. He hurled the coffee cup. “Wake up, Ariyah! You think your father’s still in charge? This whole company depends on me!”

“And as for your AEI Equity, I’m its face. Without me, every client walks out that door.”

He was done pretending. His interests were on the line, and he had nothing left to hide.

Ariyah watched him unravel, feeling neither anger nor disappointment—just a deep, hollow sense of loss. How could she have ever trusted this man?

Joan stepped protectively in front of Ariyah, eyes blazing. “You were a broke intern, Milo. If it weren’t for Ariyah... what gives you the right to run anything now?”

“That was my talent! She just opened the door!” Milo’s voice rose.

The office went dead silent, the air thick with tension. Outside the door, a crowd had gathered.

Ariyah laughed, cold and sharp. “So that’s it? In my own company, you’re actually trying to kick me out?”

Milo Kelly sucked in a slow breath and went quiet.

He turned the idea over in his mind, but he didn't dare say it out loud. If word got around, it would wreck his reputation in the industry. Falling for someone new was common enough, but snatching someone else's company in the process? That would make him look terrible. The cleanest outcome would be for Ariyah Griffin to accept a buyout and walk away on her own. After all, she hadn't actually run the company in years; it was only fair. If people talked, they'd only say the spark had died between them—nothing scandalous.

He knew Alyssa Jenkins was the woman he truly cared about now. Alyssa was soft-spoken and understanding, never raising her voice or acting like a spoiled brat. She'd started out as an assistant sent by the partner company during the merger, helping him organize materials. Somewhere between late nights at the office and too much coffee, they'd fallen into each other's arms. Before long, they'd brought a child into the picture.

“I don't want this turning ugly, Ariyah,” Milo said, his voice carefully diplomatic. “I'm not asking you to vanish. I'll take care of you—more than generously. You'll still live comfortably. It won't be much different from now.”

Ariyah let out a dry laugh. She could read every simple thought written all over his face. All those years she'd spent grooming him, and he still hadn't matured one bit.

“I've already given you your option. There is no alternative,” Ariyah said, steel in her voice. “Milo, don't forget—we may not have had the wedding yet, but when those shares were transferred, we filed our marriage license at City Hall.”

“Your mistress will not take my place unless I agree. And you won't walk away with those assets until I sign off. Think it over.”

Ariyah signaled Joan with a single glance. Her eyes turned icy. “Mr. Kelly, take your things and leave.”

By “things,” she meant Alyssa—the woman who'd actually had the nerve to challenge Ariyah.

As the words landed, the dozen security personnel waiting outside filed in and cleared a path toward the door.

“Ariyah, I don't want this getting messy. A fight would only end in mutual destruction—nobody wins. Think it over,” Milo said, pulling Alyssa and their daughter along as he made his exit.

The office fell into quiet chaos. Several outside meetings had been scheduled around Milo's return, and now the young secretary hovered, unsure who had the authority to sign off on the paperwork.

Ariyah fixed the hesitant secretary with a pointed look and raised her voice. “Bring the files to me. From now on, every document comes through me.”

Her words weren't meant only for the secretary—they were for everyone in that room.

The secretary exhaled in relief and rushed over with the stack of documents, silently praying she wouldn't get caught in the crossfire of a power struggle.

Milo's first stop with Alyssa was the countryside manor, only to find that Ariyah had already changed the door code remotely. They were locked out.

Frustrated, he pounded on the door, expecting Belen Howell to be home around the clock. “Weird. She should be here,” he muttered, kicking the door once more. Still no answer.

“Daddy, I'm hungry,” the little girl whined, restless from the drive.

His patience already wearing thin, Milo decided to take them to his parents' place instead.

Alyssa was thrilled. After seeing the sprawling manor with its gardens, she wanted the title Mrs. Kelly more than ever. She already had the daughter. A little effort to give him a son, and her position would be secure!

Lost in her fantasies of wealth, she jolted back to reality when the car rolled to a stop in a modest neighborhood.

“Where are we, Milo?” Alyssa asked, confused, scanning the bustling outskirts—the kind of place teeming with street vendors and dirt.

Suspiciously, she hesitated, one foot already out the door, then pulled it back like the sidewalk might stain her shoes.

Milo, too wrapped up in his own excitement to notice her discomfort, beamed. “Alyssa, this is my parents' place. Come on—I'll introduce you to them!”

...

“What?” Alyssa's dreams hit a speed bump.

She'd imagined a Wall Street darling like Milo would come from old money, not... this.

Inside the dimly lit apartment cluttered with odds and ends, Alyssa grimaced, stepping carefully. Worse, there was no elevator, and they had to climb five flights of stairs.

“Milo, why haven't you moved your parents somewhere nicer?” she asked, unable to keep the dissatisfaction out of her voice.

“They've lived here forever. They know everyone, and they don't want to move,” Milo explained, shifting the child in his arms. He conveniently left out the part where his mother had lived with them at the manor for a while—until Ariyah's endless complaints drove her storming back home.

His mother, thrilled by her son's call, had prepared a feast. When she saw her granddaughter at the door, she lit up.

“Such a lovely child! That Griffin woman didn't want kids and wasted my son's best years. Awful woman!” she huffed, kissing the child.

“Mom, let's not bring that up. This is Alyssa,” Milo said quickly.

Alyssa stepped forward with a warm smile, relieved to find that Milo's mother didn't look like the loud, rough women she'd seen outside.

Milo's mother was equally pleased. Compared to that demanding heiress and her never-ending grievances, Alyssa seemed gentle and easy to handle.

After dinner, as Alyssa dutifully washed the dishes, Milo's mother whispered to her son.

“Have you spoken to Ariyah? What's the plan?”

“She turned down my offer. Told me I should leave empty-handed.” Milo frowned. “Mom, maybe those assets aren't worth it. I can start over. It wouldn't be that hard.”

“Don't talk nonsense!” she interrupted. “You didn't get this far just to give it all up. You built that empire. Why would you walk away?”

She hesitated, then leaned in and whispered, “If it comes down to it, pretend to make nice with Ariyah, find a lawyer, and quietly move the assets.”

Milo glanced toward Alyssa in the kitchen and nodded slowly. In the end, it was all for the good of his family.

As night settled, Ariyah sought refuge at a nearby bar with Joan, nursing their drinks in contemplative silence.

“Ariyah, tell me you're not still hung up on that jerk. Please don't go all lovesick and let him fool you again,” Joan said, worry plain in her voice.

Ariyah shook her head. “Of course not. I'm just figuring out my next move. He's made it clear he won't stop until he gets something.”

“So what's the plan? Every cent you hand that man feels like a loss.”

“Oh, I'll give him something,” Ariyah said, sipping her drink. “But there's no way we're taking a loss.”

“Oh, really?” Joan leaned in, intrigued. “So you've got a plan?”