Lila Hart's heart pounded as Veronica Langley's venomous whisper—"You'll never replace me"—lingered like poison in her mind. The press conference had ended, but the tension followed her back to Alexander Knight's penthouse, a glittering prison where his obsession held her captive. Two years ago, she'd saved him from a burning wreck, her hands bloodied as she dragged him from the flames. That act had sparked his fixation, binding her to a contract that gave him control over her life. Now, with Veronica's reappearance, the air crackled with a new kind of war—one waged with words and glares sharper than knives.
Lila stood in the penthouse's grand living room, her nerves frayed from the media's gold-digger accusations and her family's desperate pleas. Alexander was in his study, dealing with the fallout of his public declaration—"She's my woman"—but Lila's thoughts were consumed by Veronica. The ex-fiancée's elegant cruelty had planted seeds of doubt, each one a thorn in Lila's resolve.
The elevator chimed, and Veronica swept in unannounced, her crimson heels clicking like a predator's claws. Her eyes locked onto Lila, a smirk curling her lips. "Comfortable in my old home?" she purred, circling Lila like a vulture. "You're playing house, but you're just a placeholder, darling. Alexander's obsession with you? It's fleeting. He'll come back to me."
Lila's fists clenched, fury burning through her fear. "Get out," she snapped, stepping forward, her voice sharp. "You don't belong here anymore." Her defiance felt hollow, though, shadowed by the contract's chains and the memory of Alexander's body claiming hers on the island, a night she both craved and despised.
Veronica laughed, a cold, cutting sound. "Bold for a waitress. Do you really think you can keep him?" She leaned closer, her perfume sharp and suffocating. "I know every inch of him—his desires, his weaknesses. You're just a spark he'll burn out. He proposed to me first, you know. This penthouse? I picked the art on these walls."
Lila's heart twisted, doubt creeping in like poison. She forced herself to stand taller, meeting Veronica's gaze. "He chose me," she said, her voice trembling but firm. "You're the past. I'm his now." The lie stung—Alexander's claim was a cage, not a choice—but she wielded it like a weapon.
Veronica's eyes narrowed, her smile turning vicious. "His now? Oh, sweetheart, you're a toy he bought for ten million. He's obsessed because you saved him, but that hero worship will fade. I'm the one he loved before you stumbled into his life." She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And I'll make sure he remembers."
Lila's pulse raced, her hands itching to slap the smugness off Veronica's face, but she held back, the psychological war cutting deeper than any physical blow. Veronica's confidence was a blade, slicing at Lila's insecurities—her fear that she was nothing more than Alexander's fixation, a prisoner of his contract and her family's debts.
Before Lila could retort, Alexander emerged from the study, his presence a storm that silenced the room. His blue eyes flicked between them, darkening with suspicion. "Veronica," he said, his tone icy. "Leave. Now."
Veronica's smirk didn't falter. She brushed past Lila, her shoulder grazing deliberately, and paused by Alexander, trailing a manicured nail down his chest. "Think about what you're throwing away, darling," she murmured, then glided out, leaving a cloud of tension in her wake.
Lila's chest heaved, her emotions a tangle of rage and doubt. Alexander turned to her, his gaze softening, but before he could speak, she noticed it—a smudge of crimson lipstick on the collar of his white shirt, stark against the fabric. Her stomach dropped, Veronica's words echoing: "You'll never replace me."
Had Alexander been with her? Lila's heart cracked, doubt swelling like a tidal wave. She opened her mouth to confront him, but the words caught, her eyes locked on the damning stain.