The elevator door opened in the Cole Oil Group building.
Nicole stepped out like she owned the building.
Every step carried confidence. Her perfume lingered for long after she had passed.
Heads turned, some staff pretended not to look.
Everyone knew her. The daughter of Sir Williams. One of the wealthiest men in the country.
She was the lady who once held Donald's heart.
Her cream coloured silk gown hugged her body. He dark hair fitted the frame of her face.
When she reach Donald's office, she didn't knock. She pushed the door opened and walked with a slow confidenr smile.
Donald was behind his desk, reading a file. He looked up.
For a heartbeat, silence filled the room.
Then his voice came, calm but cold.
"Nicole."
Her smile deepened. "You still say my name the same way."
Donald stood, his jaw tight. "What are you doing here? You were supposed to stay in London."
Nicole took off her sunglasses and placed them on his desk. Her blue eyes gleamed with amusement.
"I missed you," she said softly. "And besides… we have a wedding to plan."
Donald's brow furrowed. "A wedding?"
"Yes." Her lips curved. "Did you really think I'd let you come back alone? After everything we've been through?"
She took a step closer. Her voice lowered, teasing but firm. "Seven years, Donald. Seven years we lived together. It's you and I against the world."
Donald's gaze hardened. "That was then."
"Then?" she repeated. "You make it sound like it never mattered."
He walked to the window, hands in his pockets. "A lot has changed."
Nicole's voice dropped to a whisper. "You've changed. You stopped calling. You stopped replying. You left without saying goodbye."
"I told you it was over," Donald said.
"You said you needed time," she shot back. "You said you were coming home to take over your father's company."
"That's exactly what I'm doing."
Nicole moved closer, her perfume filling the air. "You're not even going to look at me? After everything we shared?"
He turned and started at her, and for a second, something flickered in his eyes. But it vanished as quickly as it came.
"I looked at you for seven years," he said quietly. "Now I just want peace."
Nicole let out a soft laugh. "Peace? You call this peace? Living with your ghosts? You don't need peace, Donald. You need me."
He said nothing.
She reached out, her hand brushing his arm. "You still love me," she whispered. "You're only pretending you don't."
He stepped back, his voice low and steady. "Don't touch me, Nicole."
Her smile froze. Slowly, she lowered her hand. "So that's it? You're just going to erase me?"
Donald walked back to his desk. "It's already done."
Her tone sharpened. "You're making a mistake. Your mother promised..."
He cut her off. "My mother promises a lot of things. That doesn't mean I'll keep them."
Nicole's eyes widened. "She said I'd be the next Mrs. Cole. She said it herself!"
Donald's lips curved slightly, not in a smile, but something colder.
"Then maybe you should marry her instead."
For the first time, Nicole's composure cracked. Her voice trembled.
"You can't mean that. I left everything behind for you: my father, my career, my life..."
Donald slammed the file shut. The sound sliced through the room.
"You made your choices, Nicole. Now live with them."
The room was filled with silence.
Nicole turned away, blinking fast. "I never thought you could be this cruel."
Donald's voice softened a little. "You should have known better."
She turned back, her tone cutting through her tears.
"You'll come around. You always do. You may hate me now, but you'll marry me in the end. You don't have a choice."
Donald met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "We'll see about that."
He walked past her and stopped at the door. His voice was calm, final.
"Tell my mother she can stop planning that wedding. It's never going to happen."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Nicole stood still for a long moment, her chest rising and falling.
Then she crossed to his chair and sat down, her fingers tracing the edge of his desk where his hand had rested.
A bitter smile touched her lips.
"He's angry," she whispered. "But he'll come around. He always does."
She leaned back in his chair, staring out at the skyline like a queen reclaiming her throne.
Meanwhile, Donald walked down the hallway, his face blank. But inside, his thoughts were sharp and burning.
She thinks I don't know.
She thinks I didn't see the truth.
But I saw everything.
He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button. His reflection stared back at him from the metal doors.
She doesn't know this is just the beginning.
The elevator chimed and closed.