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?”

The bar’s dim lighting cast a hazy neon glow over Ariyah Griffin’s face, but it couldn’t hide the sharp glint in her eyes. Her gaze was a sheathed dagger, poised to strike at any second. Her father had raised her to be decisive and ruthless, hoping she could go toe-to-toe with men in this world. Little did he know she’d turn those very traits on her marriage.

“Milo Kelly won’t leave this marriage with a single cent—not a stock option, not a car key, nothing,” she stated, her voice calm but absolute. “The house, the car, the company shares, all the connections I helped him build—everything I’ve poured my heart into over the years—I’m taking it all back. Cleanly. Completely.”

She looked down at the amber liquid in her glass, swirling it slowly.

Joan nodded, relief easing the tension in her chest. She knew exactly how much Ariyah had poured into shaping Milo into the man he was. Giving up wasn’t an option—not when the time and effort could swallow a person whole. Ariyah had never been one to get swept away by her emotions, and Joan was grateful that, at least, hadn’t changed.

Joan had been by Ariyah’s side since graduation, more sister than assistant. She adored the Griffin family, but she’d never been able to stomach Milo. From their first meeting, something about Milo’s supposedly earnest eyes struck her as calculating. But back then, Ariyah had wanted to please her father, so she’d rushed in without a second thought.

Now Milo, thinking he was untouchable, had the nerve to bring another woman—and a child—into the picture as leverage. Joan hadn’t seen that coming. He’d waited until Mr. Griffin was away, assuming Ariyah couldn’t make any real trouble on her own.

Ariyah scrolled through her phone, stopping when a headline caught her eye: Solstice Capital had just closed another major international acquisition. The story shot straight to the top of the business news. But most people were far more interested in the ridiculously handsome photo attached to it.

It was an old photo of Solstice Capital’s founder, Pablo Williams. He was mid-handshake with some foreign dignitary, his sharp profile and perfect posture making him look like he’d walked straight out of a CEO drama.

“Wait, aren’t CEOs supposed to be bald and out of shape? How is Pablo this good-looking?”

“Look how old that photo is. It’s probably ancient—he’s got to have let himself go by now…”

Ariyah let out a soft laugh. If she hadn’t met him in person today, she might have agreed with the comments, assuming the photo was doing all the work. But thinking back to their encounter earlier that day—and those clear eyes she’d looked up into—she felt something stir. A wave of unease hit her, so she knocked back another drink, letting the warmth settle in her chest.

But why had Pablo shown up here today? Had he heard about Milo’s antics and come sniffing around for talent? In hindsight, giving Milo that kind of platform had been a mistake—it had put him on every investment bank’s radar. The thought sat heavy in her chest, and she turned off her phone.

When her phone lit up again, Milo’s name flashed on the screen.

“Has this man no shame? Why the hell is he calling?” Joan burst out the second she saw the name.

Ariyah only smiled and set the phone aside. But Milo was relentless. One missed call turned into another, then another. Eventually, a text popped up: “Heard from a friend you’re at Starry Night Bar. Wait for me.”

Ariyah frowned and handed the phone to Joan.

“That guy is just disgusting. Let’s get out of here! Why meet him? To listen to his lame excuses about how hard cheating is?” Joan fumed, already trying to tug Ariyah out of her seat.

“Maybe we should wait. Could be a good show,” Ariyah countered, shaking her head and sliding back into her seat.

A few drinks later, Milo appeared at the door. He hesitated, clearly surprised to see Ariyah sitting out in the open—he’d expected her to be avoiding him.

Ariyah held his gaze, steady and defiant, until he started to squirm.

“Ariyah, I want to talk,” he said, finding his nerve as he walked over.

“I’ve thought it over. Bringing Alyssa and the child back was thoughtless of me,” he admitted, though the apology was more about logistics than morals.

Ariyah stared at him with ice in her eyes. He was apologizing for bringing the woman back—not for betraying her in the first place. It was obvious he wasn’t really sorry; he was just buying time to make a play for the company shares. The man had no heart.

“So, have you decided? Are she and the child leaving, or are you all leaving together?” she asked, her tone lazy.

Milo’s fists clenched. “Ariyah, Alyssa is alone here. If I send her away, she’ll be stranded with the child. Just give me some time to sort this out, okay?”

His voice was smooth, but inside he was cursing Ariyah’s cold heart. The kid was only two—where were they supposed to go?

“Oh, so is it love or guilt?” Ariyah pressed.

Milo gritted his teeth. “Let’s go home and talk about this in private.”

He reached out, his cold fingers brushing her arm. Ariyah jerked back like she’d been burned, leaving him clutching nothing but her sleeve. The man before her felt like a snake now; any touch was repulsive.

Joan was already on her feet, ready to shove Milo out, when his phone rang.

After taking the call, Milo’s expression turned serious. He released her sleeve with obvious reluctance. “Ariyah, Alyssa’s fallen ill and can’t look after the child. I have to go.”

Alyssa had timed it perfectly, knowing he’d be with Ariyah. Her timing was surgical.

Ariyah almost laughed. Instead, she let a mocking tenderness settle over her face as she looked at Milo. “Stay with me, will you? I’m a little drunk. Keep me company?”

The conflict on Milo’s face only made Ariyah more amused. She had to pinch her leg to keep from laughing out loud. Who did Milo think he was, standing there paralyzed with indecision?

Milo hesitated, then shot her an apologetic look. “Ariyah, wait for me at home. We’ll talk then. I have to go see the child. She’s just a little girl…”

Ariyah tuned him out. She already knew exactly what he’d say next—and none of it meant anything.

Milo rushed to the hospital, where Alyssa was waiting in the ER downtown.

“Alyssa, what happened? Why didn’t you go to the one closer to home?” Milo asked, pressing a worried hand to her feverish forehead. There was a hospital just a short walk from home, and it was less crowded, too.

Alyssa, her eyes half-closed, murmured, “I’m new here, so I got lost. Sorry, Milo—am I bothering you?”

But she knew exactly how close the other hospital was. She’d chosen the one downtown on purpose, hoping to draw a crowd. Without the extra attention, the fever she’d brought on by standing in a cold shower for half an hour would have gone completely unnoticed.