The photos are everywhere.
Lianna and Kian. Locked in a kiss that didn't belong to headlines….but now it was front-page news.
"EXCLUSIVE: KIAN VALE AND LIANNA SEREIN….BACK TOGETHER?"
"THE BILLIONAIRE'S KISS THAT SHOOK THE BOARDROOMS"
"BETRAYAL? WHERE DOES DAMIAN CROWE STAND IN ALL THIS?"
Social media explodes. Analysts speculate. Shareholders panic.
At a live broadcasted interview, Damian Crowe is mid-sentence, dressed in a dark suit with a silver tie, speaking to a business news anchor about projected quarterly growth for the Crowe Tech-Vale merger.
Then….his phone screen lights up with a notification.
He glances. Blinks. The air shifts.
On screen, the kiss.
His lips part. His voice catches.
"Erh… erh—excuse me." He clears his throat, sets his phone down, his hand curling into a fist on the table. "We'll need to pause this."
The camera zooms in on his blank expression. The world watches him reel.
At Lianna's penthouse, she's pacing in her office, her nerves unraveling . Her heels echoing against the floor. She rubs her temples, then her jaw. The press hadn't just exposed a moment….it had detonated a bomb across her life.
She ignores Kian's third call.
Then calls Damian. No answer.
She exhales, hard. Her body slumps into her leather chair, eyes blurry with the weight of a thousand decisions she can't undo. Her brain flashes back to last night….Kian's breath against her cheek, the quiet smile after the kiss, the way she held his back and looked at his face like it still belonged to her.
She gets up. Goes to the living room. Pours a drink….something soft, fizzy, sweet….ginger ale with lime, the one Mila always made her when she didn't want to drink but needed something comforting.
She sips it quietly, in a silk robe, feet tucked beneath her.
Then….a knock.
She tenses. For a moment, she doesn't move.
But she stands. Walks slowly to the door. Opens it.
Damian.
He stands there in a long black coat, eyes unreadable. His gaze finds her lips, her skin, her flushed expression. He doesn't speak.
He walks inside without a word, sets down his coat on the armrest, and stands in the center of the room, lit by the gleam of the chandelier.
Then, softly,
"I told you I saw you. But maybe I saw wrong."
She opens her mouth. "Damian—"
He holds up a hand.
"You don't have to explain. I just need to know…"
His voice tightens.
"Is he the one you want?"
Lianna stares at him.
The silence stretches.
She doesn't answer.
And that…..says everything.
—-
The next day , Lianna says nothing.
She sits by the window, wrapped in an oversized cardigan, the sun barely breaking through the clouds. Her journal is open. Her pen moves slowly, carefully….every word bleeding truth..
Then she pauses.
Deletes her social media apps.
Turns off her phone.
Breathes.
She's done hiding.
An hour later.
Vale Corp Headquarters.
The moment she walks in, everything stills.
Eyes follow her. Whispers trail behind her.
She's in a black power suit….clean lines, sharp shoulders, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Controlled. Icy. Regal.
The boardroom is full.
Henry Vale sits at the head, smug, sipping espresso like the empire still belongs to him.
Kian is beside him, silent. Pale. Watching.
Lianna walks in without hesitation.
She drops a thick black file on the center of the table. It thuds.
The room stills.
Inside, everything.
Embezzlement records. Laundered accounts. Names. Transactions. Fake subsidiaries.
She looks around the room. Her voice is calm.
"You built this company on rot. And I'm done pretending not to see the termites."
Henry's smile falters.
His voice is low. Threatening.
"You wouldn't dare."
She lifts her chin.
"Watch me."
The silence shatters.
Kian rises, stunned. "Lianna, what are you doing?"
She turns to him, eyes meeting his…soft, steady, final.
"Choosing myself."
The board erupts in outrage.
Henry slams his hand against the table.
Kian looks like he's been punched in the gut.
Cut to Damian…..somewhere across the city, phone pressed to his ear.
A voice on the line,
"She made her move. It's time we make ours."
——-
It starts like any ordinary morning.
Arin, seven, climbs into the back seat of the black SUV, swinging his backpack onto the seat beside him. He's humming….off-key and sweet….one of the songs Lianna always sings when brushing his hair.
The driver checks the mirror. Smiles. "Ready, buddy?"
Arin gives a thumbs-up.
The car pulls into traffic.
Then—
Screech. Slam. Spin.
A gray sedan veers out of nowhere. The driver hits the brakes….
Nothing.
The pedal drops to the floor.
"Hold on!" the driver yells, swerving to avoid a cyclist.
The car careens sideways, wheels shrieking.
A metal pole crashes through the front light. Glass shatters. The airbags detonate like thunder.
Arin's scream is the last thing the driver hears before the world goes dark.
Hospital.
Lianna doesn't remember breathing until she sees him.
Arin….alive, conscious, bruised and trembling….sits propped against a white pillow. A shallow cut on his forehead. IV in his tiny arm. Tear tracks on his cheeks.
Lianna drops her purse. Races to his bedside. Sobs as she cups his face with both hands.
"You're okay. You're okay, baby. Mama's here. I've got you."
Arin starts crying again. He wraps his arms around her neck and won't let go.
Across the room, Juno Thorne, still in heels and a black trench coat, walks in holding a manila file. Her expression is grave.
"The police are calling it mechanical failure," she says quietly.
"But I checked the crash report myself. The brake line was severed. This wasn't an accident, Lianna."
Lianna stares at her. Then down at Arin's little hands gripping hers.
"Someone came after my son?"
"Someone wanted to scare you," Juno replies. "Or worse."
Later that evening, as Lianna dozes in the chair beside Arin's bed, a nurse walks in.
"You have flowers," she whispers.
A tall bouquet of white lilies sits on the window ledge.
Lianna's brows furrow. She walks to it slowly.
No card.
No note.
Just lilies.
She stares at them, breath held, heart pounding.
In the hallway outside, a man watches through the small glass pane in the door.
We don't see his face.
But he's wearing a Vale Corp lapel pin.