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Xavier's P.O.V.
Today marks one year since I took over this position, and if I say so myself, I've done a damn fine job. A full year of navigating boardrooms, making deals, and proving I'm more than just my last name. I've built a strong reputation, surrounded myself with a killer team, and somehow avoided any major disastersâwell, almost.
See, seven months ago, I made one tiny mistake. Barely a blip on the radar. But my father? He acted like I burned the company to the ground.
I sent legal papers to Susan Marie Josephâyes, that Susanâto sue her. When I first saw the name, a fleeting thought crossed my mindâcould it be her? My father's best friend's only daughter? But then I brushed it aside. Plenty of people share names, right?
Simple. She had been an employee, then poof, vanished without a trace. No resignation, no contact. Just gone.
Finding any trace of her was impossible. I searched for her permanent address, but every official record only pointed to her New York residence. The only person who knew anything was Adrian Johnson, our manager, since he was from the same town as her. Naturally, I wanted answers. A company doesn't run itself, and I don't tolerate loose ends.
And thenâplot twist.
Turns out, the girl I was trying to sue was actually Uncle Joseph's only daughter.
I'd been floored. At first, I thought it was some clerical error. But noâwhen both my father and Uncle Joseph personally called me about it, I knew I had officially embarrassed myself into another dimension.
It was ridiculous. Of all the places in the world, why the hell was she working at my company? And then disappearing like Houdini? Who does that?
Of course, I immediately called my lawyer to kill the lawsuit before I became the idiot who sued the heiress. I apologized to Uncle Joseph, but surprisingly, he laughed it off, saying it was her own fault for not handling things properly. Apparently, she promised to send her resignation.
Lucky me. Crisis averted. Or so I thought.
And now, today, I'm visiting Uncle Joseph's estate with my parents.
Reclining in the backseat of our sleek Rolls-Royce, I half-listen as my mother and father chat about Susanâhow much she's grown, how long it's been since they last saw her, how different she must be now. They speak as if she's some long-lost princess returning to reclaim her throne. My mother's voice is filled with nostalgia, my father's with curiosity, and me? I'm just trying not to roll my eyes at their exaggerated enthusiasm.
I glance outside as the car glides smoothly down the road, the city lights flickering across the tinted windows. I shift slightly, adjusting my cufflinks, wondering if this evening will be as predictable as I expectâor if Susan Marie Joseph might actually surprise me.
Matchmaking.
I suppress a sigh, watching the city lights blur past through the tinted windows. If I had a dollar for every time my parents casually brought up an eligible woman, I'd be even richer than I already am.
But I'm way too good-looking to fall into some arranged marriage crap. If I'm marrying anyone, it'll be my Aspen beautyânot because I believe in fate or destiny, but because she's a challenge.
Maybe it's my way of proving something to my family, of showing them that I make my own choices, that I don't just marry the "perfect match" they pick for me. Or maybe it's because, for the first time in my life, a woman walked away from me. And that? That just doesn't sit right. Either way, I've decidedâshe's the one I want. And once I set my mind on something, I don't stop until it's mine.
Yet, for all my determination, my so-called top-tier detective is still empty-handed. It's been months, and the only thing he's managed to tell me is what I already knewâshe's damn good at staying hidden. No last-known location, no slip-ups, just radio silence. Turns out, there's a reason for that.
Firstly, "Rose" isn't even her real name. The name I've been chasing? A complete fabrication. A distraction. I'd been searching for a woman who, technically, didn't even exist. Every lead went cold the moment it started.
Then, there's her social circleâor lack thereof. She left no trace of close friends either. The only name I have is Lisa, but none of the hotel records show any bookings under that name. And then there's the hotel itself. We stayed at one of the most exclusive, high-profile resortsâthe kind that caters to the elite and values privacy above all else. They don't just hand over guest records, and unfortunately, "I just really want to find her" isn't a strong enough reason for them to bend the rules.
To make matters worse, if all the bookings were made under her real nameâthe one I don't haveâthen I'm chasing a ghost.
Maybe I should hire another one. Hell, maybe I need an entire team. Because the more she runs, the more I want to catch her. Her leaving without a goodbye isn't the only reason I want to find her. There's more to itâsomething deeper, something that still lingers in my mind long after that night.
We had danced to the slow rhythm of a song, our bodies moving in sync, the dim lighting of the Aspen club casting shadows around us. There was a rawness to that moment, an unspoken understanding between us. It wasn't just attraction; it was something deeper, something I hadn't expected.
"You don't really seem like the type to follow rules," I had said, my voice low as I pulled her a little closer.
She tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Depends on whose rules we're talking about."
I smirked. "Let me guessâparents' rules, expectations, all of that?"
She let out a small breath of laughter, but there was something else there too. A hint of something more profound, something almost vulnerable. "It's okay to disappoint others sometimes," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "If the alternative means disappointing yourself. If you always take the route that makes everyone else happy, you'll wake up one day and realize you don't even recognize the person you've become."
I had expected something flirty, something playful, but this? This hit differently. "So what, you just decided to do things your way?"
A shadow passed over her face, just for a second. "Not always. I used to think making everyone happy was the right thing to do. But then I realizedâno matter what you do, someone will always be disappointed. So why not make sure that someone isn't you?"
I studied her, my curiosity growing. "And has that worked out for you?"
She hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly where they rested against my shoulder. "Some days, yes. Some days, it's terrifying. But so is spending your whole life living for others and waking up one day feeling like a stranger in your own skin."
I stared at her, stunned, the words hitting me harder than I cared to admit. Because wasn't that exactly what I had been doing? Living under expectations, walking the road paved for me, never questioning whether it was what I actually wanted?
For a moment, neither of us spoke, the weight of her words settling between us like an unspoken challenge. It was the first time in years someone had made me think about my own choicesânot as obligations, but as decisions I had the power to change.
And I hated how much I wanted to hear more from her.
Maybe she was right. Maybe failing on your own terms was better than succeeding on someone else's. The more I think about her the more my mood darkens... Let me think about something else...
Anyways, Susan is always making headlines these daysâwhether it's about her rumored love life, her growing influence in the corporate world, or how she seamlessly transitioned from living like an ordinary girl to embracing her role as an heiress. She seems like a handful, and honestly, I can't decide if that's a good or bad thing.
The most frustrating part? There is never a clear picture of her in the media.
Her PR team is either brilliant or paranoidâor both. Every time the paparazzi try to snap a photo, her bodyguard steps in, shielding her from the cameras. If that doesn't work, she's always in a hat, sunglasses, or conveniently turning away at the last second. The mystery surrounding her isn't just strategicâit's deliberate.
Even the press seems to struggle. The few leaked pictures are either from years ago or so blurry they might as well be a Bigfoot sighting. It's almost impressive. Almost. If I didn't find it so damn annoying.
Currently, I'm texting Jason. Just the usual nonsenseâgirls, business, and him whining about the endless cases he has to deal with at his father's law firm. Yeah, Jason comes from one of the most powerful legal families.
Jason: Tell me again why you're willingly walking into a setup?
Me: It's not a setup. It's just a family visit.
Jason: Right. And I'm not a lawyer. Your parents are definitely trying to marry you off.
Me: Like hell that's happening.
Jason: You sure? One sip of tea, and boomâwedding bells.
Me: If anyone's getting married, it'll be me and my Aspen beauty.
Jason: The one your detective still can't find?
I sigh, rubbing my temple. He's got a point. But I'm not about to admit that. Instead, I send him a middle-finger emoji and put my phone away as we pull up to the estate.
As we arrive at Uncle Joseph's estate, I glance outside and let out a low whistle. The place is ridiculousâin the best way possible. Expansive gardens, their vibrant colors blending like a perfectly curated painting, surround the grand fountain, which looks like it belongs in front of a royal palace. The driveway alone is long enough to host a damn marathon.
I've been to Uncle Joseph's holiday home in Munich, but this? This is on another level. For a moment, I have to wonderâis he richer than my father? Not that it's a competition, but... well, if it was, he might just be winning.
His company's growth is insane, and everyone wants a connection with them. The easiest way? Marry the daughter.
Not that I'd ever go that route. I want my own reputation. My own name.
Dressed in a tailored blackish-grey Armani suit, my tie perfectly in place, I step out of the Rolls-Royce, adjusting my cufflinks as Uncle Joseph and his wife, Marie, appear at the entrance.
Dad and Uncle Joseph greet each other with their usual bro hug, like they haven't seen each other in decades instead of just months. Their laughter echoes through the estate, and I smirk, shaking my head. Same old family theatrics.
"Oh my god, look at this handsome boy! You've grown so much, Xavier!" Marie Aunty exclaims, her eyes lighting up as she clasps her hands together.
I flash her my best, most charming smile. "Marie Aunty, you're too kind. But I have to say, you look even younger than the last time we met. What's your secret? Some kind of magic potion?" I tease.
She gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. "Eleanor, did you hear that? He's such a smooth talker!"
Mom grins, clearly enjoying the moment. "Of course, he is. He's my son. Flattery runs in the family."
Marie Aunty chuckles, shaking her head. "You're trouble, Xavier, I can already tell! But come in, come in! Make yourselves comfortable. I should go and fetch Susan. She's probably by the garden or lounging by the pool. That girl is impossible to keep track of these days."
I follow my parents inside, stepping into what can only be described as a palace disguised as a home. The grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling sparkles like a thousand diamonds, casting an elegant glow over the intricately carved staircase. The walls are lined with family portraits, all exuding power, wealth, and legacy.
Everything about this place screams old money, prestige, and untouchable status. And at the center of it all? Susan Marie Josephâthe first female heiress in her family's history.
"She's guarded all day. Poor girl," I think to myself, shaking my head. Then again, if my family name carried this much weight, I'd have bodyguards glued to me too.
Marie Aunty turns to one of the house staff, a woman in her mid-twenties. "Kiara, go find Susan and tell her to come greet our guests."
I smirk. And so, the finally the heiress will make her entrance.
As we wait, Uncle Joseph shifts the conversation. "So, Xavier, how's the business world treating you? I hear you're already surpassing your father in some areas."
I let out a short chuckle, shaking my head. "Not at all, Uncle. I've learned a lot from Dad. Business is great, though. I'm enjoying it."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my father smirking proudly. He eats up compliments like this.
"Oh, I see," Uncle Joseph muses, leaning back in his chair. "Your father's never been the relaxed type when it comes to you. I always assumed he monitored your every move like a hawk."
I grin, choosing my words carefully. "He does. But he's giving me more space now, which I appreciate."
Half-truth.
Dad likes to pretend he's stepping back, letting me handle things, but we all know the truth. He keeps tabs on everything. The company. My whereabouts. My public image.
What he doesn't know? That I have a girlfriend he'd definitely disapprove of. That I hired a detective to find Rose. That I have unfinished business, and I don't plan on letting it go.
"So, Richard," my dad asks, "I heard Susan is getting trained to take over as CEO?"
Uncle Joseph nods, looking pleased. "Yes, it's time. She's finally stepping up, though I swear it took a miracle to get her here. I'm finally freeing myself from work so I can enjoy a peaceful vacation with my beautiful wife."
Dad chuckles. "I wish I had a daughter like Susan. This son of mine? Loves trouble too much." They both laugh, and I roll my eyes. It's been two months since I was in a scandal. Give me some credit.
Uncle Joseph lets out a hearty laugh. "At least your son was on track from the start. Mine? She practically flew off in the middle of everything, and by sheer luck, she found her way back. If things had gone her way, she'd still be running off under your payroll."
Dad smirks, shaking his head. "You make it sound like you had to drag her back kicking and screaming."
Uncle Joseph sighs dramatically, waving a hand. "You have no idea. One day she's planning to move to New York by herself, next she is refusing to join family business. If not for certain... circumstances, I doubt she'd have come back at all."
I raise an eyebrow. Interesting. What circumstances? But before I can ask, Marie Aunty claps her hands together. "Enough about business! Let's have tea in the garden!"
Marie Aunty suddenly claps her hands together. "Let's have tea in the garden! Richard, bring Xavier and Travis with you. Eleanor and I will meet you there."
I follow Uncle Joseph outside, taking in the vast gardenâgracefully manicured grass, towering trees forming a natural border, and at the center, a circular rose plantation.
As we settle at a table, a sound cuts through the idle chatterâlaughter. Light, clear, effortless, yet something about it grips me, tugs at my memory.
I turn my head.
A brunette stands near the garden's edge, her long, silky hair cascading down her back, tied with a delicate bow. She moves gracefully, her posture relaxed, unaware of the storm she's about to unleash. She's dressed in a fitted cream-colored sweater tucked into high-waisted black trousers, the soft wool hugging her frame effortlessly. She looks effortlessly refined, a contrast to the chaos unraveling inside me.
She turnsâ
And my world veers off its axis.
My breath snaps out of my lungs.
Her.
"You!!!"
The exclamation bursts out of both of us at the same time, clashing in the air like an unexpected explosion.
For a second, there is absolute silence. Then, my father raises an eyebrow, his usual composed expression flickering with curiosity. My mother's lips part slightly, her gaze shifting between Susan and me, her mind clearly piecing things together. Uncle Joseph, on the other hand, lets out a deep, knowing sigh, rubbing his temple as if he suddenly has a headache. Marie Aunty clasps her hands together, eyes sparkling with intrigue, like she's witnessing the plot twist of a romance novel unfolding in real-time.
Susan's face drains of color, her lips part slightly in shock. She stiffens, her fingers clutching the hem of her sweater like a lifeline. Her wide, panic-stricken eyes lock onto mine, swirling with something between disbelief and horrorâ
And suddenly, I understand everything.
I blink, my mind fighting to keep up. No. This isn't real. This can't be real.
But it is.
Susan Marie Joseph.
She was my Rose.
My fingers dig into the chair's armrest, my knuckles turning white as the weight of realization crashes down on me like a tidal wave. Six months. Six months of chasing a ghost, of restless obsession, of frustration, of a mystery that had consumed meâ
Only for fate to laugh in my face and drop her right here, in front of me.
The silence between us is deafening, thick with the kind of tension that suffocates.
Thenâ
I smirk.
Because she remembers me.
Oh, this is going to be interesting.
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How's it you guys like it ? This chapter happens around one year later to when Susan and Adrian broke-up if someone didn't get it yet.
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