The morning sun filtered through the tall windows as Alex stepped out of his bedroom, fresh from a cool shower. After a quick breakfast prepared by the kitchen staff, he glanced at the time—just past 9 a.m. After changing his clothes in a desiner tailored suit he made his way toward the front door.
Wilfred, the ever-attentive butler, appeared with a slight bow. "Sir Alex, shall I call your chauffeur?"
Alex shook his head lightly, slipping on his sunglasses. "No need today, Wilfred. I feel like driving myself."
With that, he strolled to the private garage, fingers trailing along the polished steel door of his collection. His hand stopped at the sleek Mercedes-AMG GT Coupe, its obsidian-black body gleaming under the overhead lights.
A few moments later, the engine purred to life, and he drove off—cutting through the city with casual elegance.
His destination was the west coast of the city, a quieter, scenic stretch where a single-story house sat nestled between palm trees. It was the designated set for today's commercial photoshoot—a modest home setup designed to depict a heartwarming scene of a mother, her son, and their dog, in tune with the brand's message of warmth and care.
As Alex parked the car neatly near the curb, he stepped out, his gaze sweeping the location. The crew had already begun gathering—cameras being adjusted, lights being tested, and staff buzzing with energy.
He slipped his hands into his pockets, observing the setup with calm precision. Today wasn't just about shooting dog food ads—it was about setting the tone for an entirely new brand under the Walton name.
At the side of the set, just beyond the camera's view, a neatly dressed assistant leaned toward the glamorous figure seated under a large umbrella.
"He's here," the assistant whispered.
The woman, Liliana Vex, the pop sensation with over ten million followers, adjusted her lip gloss with practiced grace. "Perfect timing," she said, rising from her seat like she was walking onto a red carpet rather than a commercial set.
She strode toward Alex with a radiant smile and extended hand. "Mr. Walton, it's such a pleasure to meet you. I've always admired your work. You're even more impressive in person."
Alex returned a polite smile, shaking her hand briefly while maintaining a subtle distance. "Thank you, Ms. Liliana. I hope today's shoot goes smoothly."
Liliana giggled, clearly trying to charm him, but Alex's expression remained composed and professional. His mind was already on the logistics.
The director soon called everyone into position, and the shoot began. It was meant to be warm and wholesome—an ad showing a cheerful family scene with a mother, a young boy, and their loyal golden retriever enjoying a quiet day at home.
But halfway through the shoot, just as the lighting team was readjusting a reflector and the makeup artist touched up Liliana's blush, Chaos Struck.
The dog had slipped along with its leash as it was tied a little loose.
"Wait—where's Max?!" one of the handlers shouted.
The crew panicked for a moment, scanning the area, and everyone started searching for the dog it was mess for a moment.
Alex noticed the dog trotting away from the set toward the street. Clicking his tongue in irritation, he walked off quietly, hands in pockets, following the canine.
He spotted the golden retriever just a short distance away, sitting obediently in front of a hot dog stand, tail wagging as it stared longingly at the sizzling snacks.
Alex approached and bent slightly, grabbing the leash with one hand. "Alright, let's go back," he said coolly, giving a gentle tug.
But the dog didn't move.
Just then, a voice rang out behind him—firm but feminine.
"Hey! You, the guy in the suit!"
Alex turned.
A woman stood nearby, holding a small salon bag in one hand, freshly done hair cascading over her shoulders. Her brows furrowed in concern as she walked over.
"You can't just yank a dog like that!" she said, crouching down and rubbing the retriever's head gently. "Sweetheart, are you okay? Poor baby. Oh! Is your owner being way too rough with you."
She cooed at the dog, completely ignoring Alex as if he were the villain in some dog drama.
Alex blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She was beautiful—elegant without trying, her voice soft but full of spirit.
"I'm not his owner," he replied, straightening his jacket. "I paid for this dog to be in a shoot, and he ran off mid-scene. I'm just bringing him back."
Luna glanced up at him, unconvinced. "Still, there's no need to be that rough."
Alex raised a brow, lips twitching in quiet amusement as the golden retriever let out a soft woof and licked Luna's hand like she was a long-lost friend.
He straightened up, checked his watch, then looked back at her. "Alright then. You can bring him back to the set."
Luna blinked, caught off guard. "Huh? Why should I?"
Alex smirked slightly. "Because you just accused me of being too rough, and clearly, he likes you more than me." The retriever barked in perfect timing, tail wagging like it understood the conversation.
Luna gave the dog a sideways look. "Oh, so now you're on his side?"
The golden retriever barked again—happy, approving, and wagging furiously.
Alex chuckled under his breath. "See? He's made his choice."
For a moment, the air between them felt light, almost nostalgic. It wasn't just some stranger arguing with another over a dog. There was a strange familiarity in the way they bickered—like childhood friends who hadn't seen each other in years but instantly fell back into their rhythm.
Luna gently stood up, the dog obediently following her lead. She dusted off her jeans and gave Alex a playful glare. "Fine. But only If you ask me more nicely."
Alex walked alongside her, one hand casually in his pocket. "Sure, let's go with that."
The golden retriever trotted ahead like a proud mediator, leading the two unlikely companions back toward the shoot.