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Chapter 14 - chapter 14

Far away from Los Angeles, in the dazzling heart of New York City, stood a penthouse that screamed wealth, class, and everything in between. The view from the glass walls stretched across the skyline , the kind of view that belonged only to those who had conquered life. And in the middle of that glass-and-gold world stood a woman — Vanessa Moore.

Her reflection glimmered in the mirror before her. A stunning woman in her late twenties, dressed in a white silk robe, her black hair cascading down her shoulders in perfect curls. Even in her quietest moments, she looked like she had just stepped off the cover of a magazine. But her eyes those sharp, calculating hazel eyes gave away what her beauty tried to hide. There was no softness in them, only the brilliance of a woman who never forgave and never forgot.

"Where's my coffee, Elise?" Her voice cut through the air like a cold blade.

The maid, trembling slightly, rushed forward with the steaming cup. "I–I'm sorry, Miss Moore. It just finished brewing."

Vanessa took it with an elegant hand, sipped once, and frowned. "Too sweet. I said one cube, not two."

She set it down on the glass table, the clink echoing in the silence of the room. Elise bowed her head, murmuring an apology before stepping back quickly.

Vanessa sighed, crossing her arms as she turned toward the massive window. The city below was alive, but her mind was far away — not here, not even in this city. She had built an empire for herself in New York, a name that people whispered in awe and fear, but deep down, there was one thing she had never been able to erase — him.

Andrew Vele.

The name alone brought a strange mixture of anger and longing to her chest. She remembered the day she walked away from him — how cold she'd been, how firm her decision was. And yet, even now, years later, the thought of his face still managed to twist something inside her. He had changed since then; she'd heard rumors — about his rise, his company, even his coldness. The world said Andrew Vele had no heart, but she knew better. He had one. She was the one who broke it.

A soft knock came at her door. "Come in," she said lazily.

Her personal assistant, Renee, walked in with a tablet in hand. "Ma'am, you have a few appointments lined up today. The magazine interview at two, then the investor dinner at—"

Vanessa waved her off. "Cancel everything."

Renee blinked. "All of it, ma'am?"

Vanessa's lips curved into a faint smile — the kind that didn't reach her eyes. "Yes, all of it. I don't feel like entertaining anyone today."

Renee hesitated but nodded. "Understood."

Vanessa turned away again, her robe gliding against the marble floor. Something was pulling at her — an unease she couldn't explain. It had started the night before, a restless feeling that refused to let her sleep. She'd woken up thinking about him again — Andrew — and she hated herself for it.

The phone on her desk suddenly buzzed.

Vanessa froze, her gaze flicking toward the vibrating device. The caller ID was hidden — unknown number. She narrowed her eyes slightly, then walked over and picked it up.

"Hello?" she said, her tone cool.

For a moment, there was silence — just the faint hum of air through the speaker. Then a voice, low and composed, answered on the other end.

Whatever the person said made Vanessa still. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes darkened. She turned to glance at the window again, her expression unreadable.

"I see…" she murmured softly. Another pause. Then she chuckled , the kind of laugh that sent chills. "Oh, really? So he's back in Los Angeles… interesting."

The voice on the other end continued speaking — too faint for anyone else to hear. Her fingers tightened around the phone as her smile grew, slow and dangerous.

When the call ended, Vanessa stood there for a long moment, staring out at the glittering skyline. Her reflection in the window looked almost ghostly ,beautiful, but distant.

"Elise," she called calmly. The maid appeared instantly. "Book me a ticket."

"F-for where, Miss Moore?" Elise stammered.

Vanessa turned around, that same icy smile curling on her lips. "Los Angeles."

Elise blinked in surprise. "T-today, ma'am?"

"Yes. Today." Vanessa's tone left no room for argument. "And pack lightly. I won't be staying long… unless I have to."

The maid nodded quickly and disappeared to make arrangements. Vanessa walked toward her dressing table, sat down, and opened her jewelry drawer. She pulled out a delicate gold bracelet — one she hadn't worn in years. The initials on it were engraved faintly: A.V.

Her thumb brushed over the letters as a cold, haunting smirk formed on her face. "It's been a while, Andrew," she whispered. "Let's see how well you've healed."

She stood up, sliding into a tailored black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. With one last glance in the mirror, she adjusted her hair and put on her heels ,each click of her shoes echoing confidence and danger.

By the time she walked out of her penthouse, the world outside had no idea that the storm named Vanessa Moore was heading back to Los Angeles , and that her arrival would change everything.

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