Mia had practiced the smile in the mirror before leaving the mansion.
The kind that looked real enough to pass.
The kind that didn't invite questions.
By the time she reached Kim's apartment, her face felt stiff from holding it in place.
Kim opened the door with her usual energy, already mid-sentence. "You're late, I was starting to think Nicole finally locked you in a dungeon—"
She stopped.
The smile slipped from her face.
Mia stepped inside, setting her bag down carefully, like any sudden movement might shatter her. She shrugged out of her coat and tried to sound normal. "Traffic."
Kim didn't buy it.
She closed the door slowly and leaned against it, arms folding across her chest. "You're lying."
Mia laughed softly. "Wow. Hello to you too."
"You didn't even insult me back," Kim said quietly. "That's how I know something's wrong."
Mia waved a hand dismissively and walked toward the couch. "I'm fine. Just tired."
Kim followed, not pressing yet. She waited. That was her skill. She knew when to push and when to let the silence do the work.
They sat.
Mia stared at the wall. At nothing.
Kim spoke gently. "Talk to me."
"I said I'm fine."
Kim nodded. "Okay. Then tell me about work."
Mia's fingers tightened together.
"Same as always," she said. "Big house. Quiet people. Rules."
"And Nicole."
Mia swallowed.
Kim's voice stayed calm. "Did she do something?"
The practiced smile finally cracked.
Mia's shoulders sagged. "She hates me."
Kim didn't interrupt.
"She screamed at me," Mia continued, her voice trembling now. "In front of everyone. Accused me of poisoning her. Slapped me. Twice."
Kim surged to her feet. "She did what?"
Mia broke.
The sound that left her wasn't pretty. It wasn't restrained. It was raw and broken and full of everything she'd been holding in. She bent forward, hands covering her face as sobs tore through her chest.
"I'm so tired," she cried. "I'm so tired of fighting just to exist. Why can't I just have a normal life? Why can't I just work somewhere and do my job and go home without feeling like I'm being hunted?"
Kim crossed the room and pulled her into her arms.
Mia clung to her like a lifeline.
"I don't even know the man I work for," Mia went on between sobs. "I don't know his face. I don't know his voice. I don't know anything. But his fiancée treats me like I'm disposable. Like I'm nothing."
Kim held her tighter, letting her cry.
"I tried so hard," Mia whispered. "I followed every rule. I did everything right. And she still hates me."
Her voice broke again. "If I lose this job… Kim, I promised my mom. I promised Liam. I promised them things would be different. I promised I'd take care of them."
Kim rested her chin on Mia's head. "You are taking care of them."
"What if I can't anymore?"
Kim pulled back just enough to look at her. "Listen to me."
Mia sniffed.
"You are not weak," Kim said firmly. "You are not unlucky. And you are not the problem. Nicole is just a woman with too much power and not enough kindness."
"She slapped me."
Kim's jaw tightened. "I know."
Mia wiped her eyes. "I don't even care about the money anymore. I just want peace."
Kim exhaled slowly, then softened. "You're allowed to want that."
She nudged Mia's shoulder. "And for the record, if I were you, I'd still keep my head high. She bleeds like everyone else."
Mia gave a shaky laugh. "You always say that."
"Because it's true."
Kim paused, then added lightly, "And when all this madness is over, I still expect you to introduce me to that fine stranger you met. Grayson, right?"
Mia shook her head weakly. "Not now."
Kim raised her hands. "Okay. Okay. Wrong moment."
They sat quietly for a while.
When Mia finally left later that evening, she felt lighter. Not fixed. But steadier.
Back at the mansion, Alexander Steele returned without fanfare.
The private elevator carried him up in silence, smooth and discreet. No one saw him arrive. No one announced his presence.
Only Margaret was informed.
"He's back," she told the staff quietly.
Upstairs, Alex changed out of his travel clothes and sat in his study, rubbing his temples. The house felt different. Tense. Like it was holding its breath.
Nicole didn't wait long.
She arrived dressed immaculately, her smile bright and expectant. "You look tired," she said, stepping closer. "The trip must have been exhausting."
"It's been a long trip," Alex replied, loosening his cufflinks.
She reached out, fingers grazing his wrist, light but possessive. "I can imagine."
They talked first, as expected.
Business. Numbers. The acquisition. How close the rival bid had come. Nicole listened intently, nodding in the right places, occasionally murmuring praise. She always knew when to flatter and when to stay quiet.
"I knew you'd handle it," she said, stepping closer. "You always do."
Alex accepted the compliment without warmth.
She sighed, then shifted the conversation seamlessly. "While you were away, I had to manage things here."
Alex paused. "Manage?"
"The staff," Nicole clarified, her tone sharpening just a touch. "They've grown far too relaxed. Especially the chef."
Alex's jaw tightened. "Mia does her job well."
Nicole laughed lightly. "You always say that. But you don't see what I see. She's careless. Too familiar. Too comfortable."
"They live here," Alex said. "It's not a factory."
"And that's the problem," Nicole countered. "There need to be boundaries, Alex. Employees should remember their place."
Alex met her gaze. "I won't run my house through fear."
For a moment, something cold flickered behind her eyes.
Then she smiled again.
"You're tired," she said gently. "You don't need to think about this tonight."
She reached for his tie and slowly loosened it, her fingers lingering. "Let me help you relax."
Alex hesitated, then stepped away. "I'm going to shower."
"Of course," she said smoothly. "I'll be waiting."
When Alex returned, the lights were dimmed.
Nicole had changed.
She sat on the bed in delicate lingerie, silk and lace hugging her body like a promise. One leg crossed over the other slowly as she looked up at him, confidence radiating from every movement. She looked stunning. She knew it.
"You work too hard," she said softly. "Let me take care of you."
She stood and closed the distance between them, hands sliding over his chest, her touch warm and deliberate. Her lips brushed his jaw, then lingered near his ear.
Alex inhaled sharply.
For a moment, the familiarity pulled at him. The expectation. The ease of giving in to something known, something already arranged for him.
Nicole's hands traced his shoulders, her body pressing closer, her voice low. "You don't have to think tonight. Just feel."
And for a heartbeat, he almost did.
His hands hovered, uncertain.
Then something inside him stilled.
This wasn't desire.
It was obligation dressed as intimacy.
He gently caught her wrists.
"Nicole," he said quietly. "Stop."
She searched his face, disbelief flashing across her expression. "What?"
"Not tonight," he said again, stepping back. "I don't want this. Not like this."
Her lips parted. "Are you rejecting me?"
"I'm asking for space."
Her expression hardened instantly, the softness evaporating. "You've been distant for months."
"I've been honest," he replied. "I don't want to rush anything. I don't want strings. Not yet."
Nicole laughed bitterly. "You say that like we're strangers."
"We're not," Alex said evenly. "But this isn't what I want right now."
Silence stretched between them.
She turned away abruptly, snatching a robe and pulling it around herself with sharp movements. "Fine."
She headed for the door, then paused. "You know, any other man would be grateful."
Alex didn't respond.
She left the room, choosing the guest suite with a deliberate slam of the door.
Alex sat on the edge of the bed, exhaustion finally catching up to him. He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the floor.
He didn't feel relief,he didn't feel guilt.
He felt certain .
And somewhere deep in the mansion, tensions simmered quietly, waiting for the moment they would finally collide.