James floated lazily in the pool, the music from the party echoing across the water. Laughter, flashing lights, and clinking glasses filled the night. It was his house, his rules—and everyone knew it.
Daniel stepped closer to the pool's edge, shaking his head with a crooked smile.
"Are you actually having fun?" he asked. "And why did you invite so many people?"
James shrugged as he pushed himself out of the water. Droplets slid down his skin as he grabbed a towel, completely unbothered by the attention he drew.
"It's my house," James replied coolly. "I invite whoever I want."
The moment he stood upright, conversations slowed. Eyes followed him—his pale skin, his sharp features, the kind of beauty that made people stare without realizing they were doing it. Girls whispered. Some didn't bother hiding their interest.
Daniel scoffed. "Man, at least cover yourself. My girlfriend's here." He paused. "Anyway, did you break up with Hannah already? I honestly thought she'd last a week."
James smirked. "I ended things clean."
"Heartless," Daniel muttered, though there was amusement in his voice. "I really thought you were serious about her. She was totally my type."
James glanced at him. "It's not too late. I doubt she's moved on."
Daniel laughed dryly. "Doesn't matter. My girl's here."
"Why do you keep calling her your girl?" James said, grimacing. "That's annoying. Give it time—you'll get tired of her."
"I'm still waiting for that to happen," Daniel replied.
James raised a brow. "Wait… don't tell me you two haven't—"
Daniel cut him off. "I want to, but she insists on waiting. Six months."
James chuckled, shaking his head. "Good luck with that."
Daniel hesitated, lowering his voice. "You know… I was wondering if you could teach me how to make her trust me completely."
James laughed outright. "Me? You must be joking. I've got nothing to teach you."
"Come on, man—"
"Figure it out yourself," James said, already turning away.
At that moment, two girls approached James, their laughter light and inviting. He didn't hesitate, following them into the house without looking back.
Daniel stared after him. "That damn bastard," he muttered.
A moment later, Emma walked up beside him. Daniel's expression shifted instantly—his smile polite, practiced. He slipped his hands into his pockets and walked off with her, leaving the pool behind as the party roared on.
James's phone vibrated against the marble counter.
He didn't need to check the screen to know who it was.
His jaw tightened as he answered.
"What is it?"
His father's voice came through calm, controlled—too calm.
"Are you having the best day, James?"
James leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "You don't need to worry. I'm fine. I'm actually having fun." He paused, irritation creeping in. "Okay. Bye."
He ended the call before his father could say another word.
A girl draped herself against him almost instantly, her voice sweet and childish. "Daddy's baby," she teased, laughing.
James's expression darkened.
He looked at her, then at the others hovering nearby, still drunk on the party, the music, the illusion that this night would last forever.
"Are you here to have fun," he said coldly, "or to say stupid things?"
No one answered.
"You know what?" he snapped. "Both of you—out. Get the hell out of my house."
The laughter died.
James turned sharply and waved toward the entrance. Within minutes, the bouncers moved in, ushering guests out despite their protests. Music cut off. Lights dimmed. The party—his party—was over just as suddenly as it had begun.
Silence filled the house.
Upstairs, Edward pushed open the door to James's room. He found him sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands over his face like he was trying to erase something.
"Hey," Edward said carefully. "What's wrong, man? Are you okay? Mat and I just got here. Why'd you cancel everything like that?"
As if summoned, Mat barged in behind him.
"What the hell, James? You scared us."
James didn't answer. His jaw clenched, eyes dark with barely contained anger.
"He's pissing me off," James muttered finally.
Mat frowned. "Who?"
James let out a humorless laugh. "Who else? My father."
Edward sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Don't tell me he's tailing you again."
Mat dropped onto the couch, stretching his legs. "You really had me worried. I thought something serious happened." He paused. "So he knows about the party, doesn't he? You're a finalist, for God's sake."
Edward's expression tightened. "This is bad. We're doing exactly what he hates most." He shook his head. "Since when did he start following you again? I bet he hired professionals this time. We only caught the last stalker because the guy messed up."
Mat scoffed. "Yeah, he's probably going all out now."
James let out a quiet laugh. "Ha."
"You're really screwed," Mat continued. "Last time you got caught, if your dad hadn't stepped in, you'd have ended up in jail for drugs." He glanced toward the door. "Wouldn't be surprised if he's already on his way."
Edward looked uneasy. "Should we run this time?"
James finally looked up at them, eyes sharp, calculating.
"No," he said calmly. "I know what to do. You don't need to worry."
Edward hesitated. "By the way… did you really break up with her?"
James frowned. "What's wrong with you guys? Why are you acting like this is new?"
Mat laughed, shaking his head. "You demon. I honestly wonder why girls never learn. They see you dumping one after another, and they still fall for you. They must be insane." He smirked. "Then again, if I were a girl… I'd probably do the same. Who wouldn't fall for a face like that?"
Edward's voice softened slightly. "I feel sorry for the next one. She kept asking me to call you, you know. I heard she ended up in the hospital." He sighed. "You're really lucky. Girls don't seem to care about your body count at all."
James leaned back, expression
unreadable.
James stepped into Morgan Atelier, the heart of one of the most powerful fashion houses in the city. The moment he entered, heads turned. Designers, assistants, and staff straightened instantly.
"Welcome, young master."
"The CEO's son is here."
James barely acknowledged them as he walked past, his hands tucked into his pockets. This place was his mother's kingdom—fabric, mirrors, mannequins, and quiet authority stitched into every corner. His mother had only just returned from the United States, and the entire building still buzzed with excitement over her arrival.
Inside the private dressing room, James slipped into one outfit after another, examining himself with bored detachment.
"You see anything you like?" a familiar voice asked.
James froze. "Mom?" He turned slightly. "When did you get here? Can't you see I'm changing?"
Morgan leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, perfectly composed. "It's not like I haven't seen it before," she said lightly. "You even wore girls' pants once, remember?"
Soft laughter escaped the maids standing nearby.
James groaned. "I really hate you."
Morgan smirked. "I can't believe you let them look at you while accusing your own mother. You know, your little peanut was tiny when you were ten."
"Stop it, Mom!" James snapped, his ears burning.
"All right, all right." She waved a hand. "You can all leave."
The room cleared instantly.
James turned to her, exasperated. "I seriously can't believe you."
Morgan studied him quietly. "How are your studies going?"
"Cool," he replied flatly. After a pause, he added, "Is there anything you want to say to me?"
Her gaze sharpened. "What do you mean? If there's something I need to know, how about you clarify it?"
James clenched his jaw. "I fucking want my freedom. I'm twenty-five already, Mom. Tell your husband to stay out of my life."
Morgan sighed. "You know he wants what's best for you."
"That's what you think," James snapped. "He doesn't want me to do anything I choose. He watches me, controls me, grounds me like I'm still a child."
"He cares about you, James."
"No, he doesn't give a shit," James shot back. "And I know why he hates me." His voice cracked with bitterness. "It's because the woman he wanted to have a child with wasn't the one who gave birth to me. He wanted it to be you. That's why he hates me, isn't it?"
The room fell silent.
James stopped, realizing what he'd said. He let out a slow breath.
"I didn't mean it like that."
Morgan's expression shattered. The confident CEO disappeared, replaced by a wounded woman.
"Mom…" James stepped closer. "I didn't mean it like that."
He reached for her hands. "You're my real mother. No matter what anyone says—no matter what I say—you're my mother."
Morgan swallowed. "I know I didn't give birth to you," she said softly. "But I love you, James. And despite everything, I know he loves you too."
"Stop siding with that cheating bastard," James exploded. "He betrayed you. He's a worthless piece of—"
The sound echoed sharply.
Morgan's hand trembled as it dropped from his face.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
James touched his cheek slowly, disbelief flickering across his eyes. Without another word, he turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Outside, anger consumed him. He walked blindly toward the street, hailed a cab, and collided hard with someone standing near the entrance.
He didn't look back.
Didn't apologize.
Just got into the cab and slammed the door.
The car drove off.
Hazel barely reacted. She adjusted her bag and glanced in the direction the cab disappeared, unimpressed.
She was waiting near the building when a woman approached her moments later.
"You waited long," Tina said.
Hazel shook her head. "No, I just got here."
"Okay, let's go."
As they turned to leave, Morgan rushed out of the building, scanning the street desperately.
"Did you see a man dressed in black?" she asked.
Hazel nodded calmly. "He just left."
Morgan pulled out her phone, dialing quickly—but there was no answer.
"Is everything all right, boss?" Tina asked gently.
Morgan forced a smile. "Yes. It's fine. You can go.