David Laurent, the property king whose name graced the business pages of every newspaper, whose hands held billion-dollar projects, now sat alone in his magnificent office. But for the first time, that vast workspace felt like a silent cage.
He looked at the legal victory documents on his desk—proof that he had successfully crushed all of Natasha's false claims. But that victory felt hollow. Even bitter.
How is it possible, he thought bitterly, that I can conquer the toughest plots of land in Jakarta, bring down cunning competitors, build towers to the sky… yet cannot rebuild the heart of one woman?
David's ego, which had always been the fuel for his success, had now become a thorn in his own flesh.
He was known as the "tiger" who never retreated. Always able to get what he wanted through strategy, pressure, or brilliant negotiation. But this time, strategy didn't work. Pressure only made things worse. And Elara… Elara was not a "project" to be conquered.
"Who am I, to be this powerless?" he whispered to his own reflection in the window overlooking the Jakarta skyline.
Cars swarmed below like ants. Buildings, half of which he owned or had built, stood tall. The world knew David Laurent as a ruler. But in the chamber of his heart, he felt like a beggar—pleading for a sliver of feeling he could not obtain, even with all his wealth.
For a moment, his memory drifted to moments when Elara still looked at him with light in her eyes. When her love was still whole, and David felt like a king who had everything. Now, Elara's same gaze felt like the coldness of glass—transparent, sharp, and impenetrable.
He realized with sorrow: all this time, in his relationship with Elara, he had always used the "logic of possession"—just like in business. Elara was an "asset" to be owned, protected, and retained. But love, it turns out, is not business. Love knows no contracts, acquisitions, or mergers. Love only knows equality, trust, and freedom.
And that is where David fell.
That night, in his spacious apartment, David did not sleep. He stood on the balcony, gazing at the Jakarta sky that rarely showed stars.
Perhaps this is the world's way of reminding me, he thought, that there are things that cannot be bought, cannot be controlled, and cannot be seized.
For the first time, the tiger of the property world felt small. Not because of a court defeat, not because of business pressure—but because of helplessness in facing a heart that no longer belonged to him.
But within that despair, a question slowly crept in:
If I truly love her… is it enough to just "possess" her? Or… must I learn to "let go"?
That question tickled his massive ego. But, like the first rain after a long drought, perhaps it was slowly beginning to cleanse the dust of arrogance from his heart.