Rivals to Lovers

In a private club suite, there were about seven or eight men, each with one or two attractive women in revealing clothes clinging to them. The room was thick with the smell of cigars and cigarettes, and countless bottles were scattered across the tables, creating a scene of indulgent decadence.

At the center was Stellan, lounging back on the sofa. He pulled a woman in a short skirt onto his lap, unapologetically running his hands along her legs as she leaned closer to him.

"Stellan, shouldn't you be comforting that fiancée of yours right about now?" one of the men sneered.

The woman on Stellan lap pouted and tapped his chest, "Oh, so you've got a girlfriend and you're still here fooling around? You're so bad..."

Stellan looked utterly unbothered, even pleased. Grinning, he took hold of her chin. "We broke up," he said. The girl looked surprised, then giggled, pressing her lips against his in a kiss that quickly turned passionate. The others barely paid them any mind, long used to this kind of behavior from Stellan. They went back to their drinking and card games.

As Stellan and the girl were getting more intimate, there was a knock at the door. A waiter's voice came through: "Excuse me, Mr. Hawthorne. There's a young woman outside who says she's your fiancée and insists she has urgent business with you."

Stellan frowned, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. "Fiancée? I already told her it's over-can't she take a hint? Pathetic."

Outside the suite, Lena stood, fists clenched, trembling slightly. She pushed past the door and entered the suite, her presence casting a cold silence over the room. Everyone stopped what they were doing, looking at her with a mix of amusement and anticipation. The waiter hesitated, unsure if he should try to intervene.

Taking a deep breath, Lena walked straight up to Stellan.

The woman on his lap glanced at her, then casually slipped off his lap, adjusting her clothes and settling herself next to him. Stellan leaned back lazily, eyeing Lena with faint interest. She looked good, he thought-pretty face, nice body. What a waste...

Forcing down her discomfort, Lena lowered her voice. "Can we talk, Stellan?"

He raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference.

They'd met three years ago, introduced by their families. Though she wasn't interested in dating, her family had praised him, saying he was a great match, and Stellan had pursued her fervently. Eventually, she agreed to give it a try. But almost overnight, things between them turned cold, as if they'd become less than strangers.

Steeling herself, Lena tried again, adopting a softer tone. "Stellan, considering the time we were together..."

"We're long over, Lena. Get it straight." His voice was cold, cutting her off.

Lena twisted her fingers, struggling to keep her composure. "I'm not here to cling to you. I just hoped you might help me."

Stellan let out a mocking laugh. "Help you? Everyone knows your family's drowning in debt. Why should I help you? How would you pay me back?"

"Consider all the business my family brought to yours..."

"Don't make me laugh. Your father squeezed every last cent out of us on those construction deals. After all this time, I haven't gained a damn thing from being with you. Now, just because you're broke, I'm supposed to do you a favor? You're a joke."

Lena's face turned pale. She'd had no idea about any of this. Her family dealt in real estate, while Stellan's supplied construction materials, so she'd assumed he'd profited handsomely from their partnership.

Swallowing her pride, she reminded herself why she'd come. She could feel everyone's eyes on her, watching her humiliation with relish, as if her blood was turning cold.

Stellan looked at her with pure contempt. "If I'd known you were adopted, I wouldn't have wasted my time. You lied to me. And now your own family doesn't even want you."

That hit Lena hard. She remembered her parents telling her she was no different from their biological daughter, that she didn't need to explain her adoption to anyone. Then, suddenly, they and her brother had disappeared, leaving her to fend for herself as the family business crumbled. But she still believed they had their reasons, that if she could just hold out a little longer, they'd return for her. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

"Come on, Stellan," one of the men said with a sly grin. "She came all this way-why not give her a chance to show her gratitude?"

As if struck by inspiration, Stellan's gaze roamed over Lena, his tongue pressing against his cheek in thought.

His stare was so overt it felt like she was being stripped bare.

"If you entertain me, maybe I'll think about it," he said, sitting back with his legs apart, the invitation clear. He picked up a cigarette, waiting for her to make a move.

Lena bit her lip, then let go. Her long lashes trembled. She picked up the lighter on the table, kneeling on the couch beside him, where the other woman's warmth still lingered.

Someone behind them whistled, adding to the twisted mood. Stellan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. Relaxed, he waited as Lena lit his cigarette. He took a long drag, exhaling the smoke in her face. Look at her, he thought-the girl who once acted so high and mighty, now groveling at his feet...

Lena closed her eyes briefly, took a deep breath, and moved her slender hand toward his face, but then paused, lowering it again.

"What's wrong? Want help but don't want to lower yourself? Trying to play the chaste woman now?" he taunted, enjoying her struggle.

The internal conflict tore at her, with Stellan's disdainful stare fueling her frustration. She pulled her knee off the couch, standing straighter. "I'm done with this game."

"What's that? Not interested in the money?" he said, grabbing her wrist.

Lena yanked it free, red marks left on her skin. "Not anymore."

Stellan gave a careless shrug. "Fine, but don't come crawling back to me later."

Lena turned her face away, murmuring under her breath, "I should've just thrown those three years in the trash."

The others exchanged looks, disappointed that there wouldn't be a more entertaining show. Suddenly, the drinks and the girls by their sides seemed less exciting.

One of Stellan's lackeys leaned in, asking, "Want us to bring her back?"

Stellan sneered, waving him off. "Nah, I've got other plans." He tapped his lips, as if savoring a new, twisted idea.

If her friend Diya hadn't been forbidden by her family from contacting her, Lena wouldn't have had to turn to that so-called "fiancé" of hers-who broke up with her the moment her family hit financial trouble. Lena stepped out of the club, her solitary figure starkly contrasting with the lively scene she'd just left behind.

The memory of what happened inside left her feeling sick to her stomach, lingering unshakably.

Feeling unsteady, Lena clutched her transit card and headed toward the bus stop. Ironically, she'd only learned how to use public transportation a few days ago. Even though she was adopted, her parents had never treated her any less than their own, spoiling her like a little princess.

But times had changed. Now she couldn't even afford gas, let alone a car of her own. She sighed softly.

After walking just a short distance from the club, she felt an intense gaze from the street. Looking up, she saw a tall figure leaning against a red sports car. She didn't need to see his face to know who it was; she knew this person all too well, as loud and showy as his car. She was already having a rough day and had no desire for a confrontation, so she pretended not to see him and kept walking.

"Lena." A deep voice reached her ears.

Lena's mouth twitched. She knew he wouldn't let her go that easily. Shooting him a glare, she said coldly, "Alaric, I'm not in the mood to spar with you today."

"Let me guess-your fiancé threw you out?" Alaric said, his arms crossed casually, his relaxed stance highlighted by the warm streetlight reflecting off his prominent nose, deep brown hair, and piercing brown eyes.

Knowing the type of place she'd just left, he could easily guess who she'd been trying to meet.

His words were like a sharp stone striking her. The frustration she'd held back inside the club bubbled to the surface.

Lena turned back, stepping into the same pool of light, her doll-like face now clear, tinged with a trace of anger. Her long, wavy, light-brown hair swayed as she glared up at him, standing her ground with piercing blue eyes. "Thrown out? Watch your wording!"

With their height difference, she had to look up to meet his gaze, but she wasn't about to back down. "Does he own this place? I have every right to be here."

Alaric raised an eyebrow. "No need for the attitude. I was just concerned about you, you know. We've known each other long enough."

They'd known each other a long time, yes, but they'd never been friends.

From grade school through high school and even into the business world, they were often compared. Their families worked in similar industries, and they were close in age. Their rivalry started when they first met at six years old, in one summer incident where Lena accidentally hit Alaric with a ball. He thought she was rude; she thought he was soft. They'd been at odds ever since.

At that time, Alaric wasn't even taller than Lena. But by high school, his height and build shot up like a wild tree, towering over her.

"Oh, thanks for the concern." Lena's words dripped with sarcasm, each one squeezed out through gritted teeth. "I'm sure you were the first to cheer when my family's business went under."

Alaric's family was also in real estate, though recently they'd branched out internationally.

"Hey, don't make it sound like we caused your problems. Your company expanded too fast, over-leveraged, and that's what led to your financial crisis. It's a shame we've lost a competitor, but I really feel for the suppliers, creditors, and investors you all left hanging..."

"Shut up. I don't need your reminders."

The tension between them thickened in the air.

Alaric shrugged, feigning innocence. "I just can't believe you, of all people, would go crawling to your so-called fiancé... or should I say ex-fiancé. I told you years ago he was no good."

Stellan was well-known in their circle as a player. Alaric had warned Lena about him three years ago, but back then, she'd thought he was just being spiteful.

"Hah, like you're any better." Lena gave him a once-over. Wasn't he right outside the club too?

Alaric hadn't come to party; he was here for a business deal, though he saw no need to explain that to her. "Honestly, you'd be better off asking me for help. You'd have better odds."

He watched her, clearly amused.

"You?" Lena scoffed, as if he'd just told her a joke. "You think I'd ever trust you? Keep dreaming."

Her reaction was exactly what Alaric expected, and he didn't mind. "At least I have some principles."

Lena knew that Alaric, ever pragmatic and profit-driven, wouldn't just offer help out of kindness. "So what, you want to use me somehow? Or is there something I have that you need-information..."

Alaric's eyes narrowed slightly. "Of course I'd want something in return. I'm not running a charity."

Her suspicions confirmed, Lena's mind raced, a faint smirk appearing on her lips. "Then maybe it's you who should be asking for my help. After all, everyone wants something valuable."

The dynamic shifted; neither was willing to back down. Their gazes locked, an unspoken challenge to see who would break first, each trying to read the other's thoughts and emotions.

Finally, Alaric's expression relaxed as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette. With a click of his lighter, a small flame flared, illuminating his face. He took a slow drag.

"Heh, here you are, acting all tough. You wouldn't have gone to Stellan if you had any other option. I'm giving you a real chance, so take it."

Lena, disliking the smell of smoke, stepped back. Alaric's calm face was hazy behind a veil of smoke.

She blinked, an unreadable emotion flickering in her eyes. "No thanks. I don't have time to waste on you."

It had been a long day, and she was exhausted.

Alaric's expression shifted subtly. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me, right?"

Lena, already walking away, raised a middle finger over her shoulder without looking back.

The night swallowed her silhouette.

Lena returned home to the vast, empty mansion, once filled with warmth and life. Her family was gone, the household staff dismissed, leaving only a hollow shell of the place she used to know. The house itself was now collateral under the company's assets, with everything inside tagged for repossession. In a few days, it would be sealed off and auctioned to repay their debts.

She didn't have the energy to pack. Instead, she went straight to her bed, lying down and staring blankly at the ceiling. She kept thinking back to last month when her parents had celebrated her twenty-sixth birthday.

They had carefully planned every detail of the party: floral arrangements, balloons, creating a dreamy atmosphere. She wore a custom black satin gown with a delicate strap and 3D white feathers adorning it. One of her gifts that night was a set of jewelry with aquamarine gems, the same color as her eyes-a necklace, along with a pair of platinum earrings set with diamonds and pear-shaped aquamarine stones.

Her mother had fastened the necklace for her, saying, "Aquamarine is the birthstone for March, a symbol of youth, health, and optimism. I hope your life will be filled with the same."

Even her usually distant older brother had surprised her with a two-tiered castle cake, one that hit her right in the heart. She'd jokingly asked her friend Diya, "How did my brother know exactly what I'd like? Did you give him a hint?"

Diya just smiled, "Whoever thought of it doesn't matter. You're the star today. As long as you're happy, that's all that counts."

But a week ago, her family had vanished like a passing breeze.

Lena draped an arm over her eyes. She was exhausted, but sleep wouldn't come. The events from that day played over and over in her mind.

She'd been in bed when a maid had rushed in, looking alarmed, telling her to go to the front door. There, she found several officials, stern-faced and in formal suits.

"Miss Lena Carrington, as the legal representative of Carrington Group, we're here to inform you that all assets in your family's name will be seized for liquidation, including this residence."

Lena's brow furrowed. "Excuse me, but there must be a mistake..."

Anticipating her response, the official raised his ID and showed her the seizure order.

His voice echoed through the mansion, and the staff stopped their work, instinctively gathering by the door. Lena's vision blurred slightly. She forced herself to focus on the paper in front of her-it was indeed her family's company name on the document. Her mind went blank. "I... Let me call my parents."

She rushed into her room, grabbing her phone, her hands shaking. A horrible feeling gnawed at her, but she kept telling herself it was fine. She just needed to call her parents, and they'd handle it. But the only response was, "The number you've dialed is currently unavailable."

She ran back out and leaned over the railing, calling out to the housekeepers, "Did any of you see my parents today? Did they say where they were going?"

Her voice trembled, unaware that it had become fragile, like a glass window in a storm, close to shattering.

The five housekeepers exchanged uneasy glances. After a pause, one of them said, "I haven't seen them today."

"Me neither."

"I didn't see them after dinner last night."

Lena's face turned ashen. This couldn't be happening... it just couldn't...

Her heart pounded as she ran to her parents' room. The sound of her footsteps was heavy as she made her way there. Privacy and manners no longer mattered; she flung open the door, causing the curtains to ripple.

The room appeared untouched. She opened the wardrobe; most of their clothes were still there, but the glass case that held her mother's designer handbags was missing some of the most valuable pieces. She opened the jewelry cabinet and found the safe-it was empty. Her brother's room was the same...

She sank to the floor, feeling like her soul had been wrenched away.

Just then, she heard footsteps approaching on the stairs. "Sorry for the intrusion, Miss, but we need to begin our work," the lead official said politely, while his colleagues started affixing seals throughout the house.

Priceless vases, paintings, statues-each item was now marked. She realized that everything her parents had left behind was too difficult to take with them. Her parents and brother had planned their escape well in advance; she just hadn't been part of the plan.

Her temples throbbed painfully. She suddenly recalled the official's opening words, "As the legal representative of the Carrington Group..."

She scrambled to her feet. "I need to clarify something. I am not the legal representative. My parents are."

The man frowned. "The company transferred legal ownership a month ago. You are now the sole responsible party."

What? Her stomach lurched. Her face went pale, her eyes wide with disbelief, before her gaze dropped to the floor. She remembered how, on her birthday, her father had asked her to sign some papers, saying that since she was older, he wanted her more involved in the business and that these documents would increase her influence. She had trusted him, signing without question, assuming it was a gift.

Looking back now...

Nearly everything in the house was registered under the company's name for tax benefits, except for the aquamarine jewelry set, which was in her name. That was one of the few possessions that wouldn't be seized. Her bank accounts were frozen, the car and house confiscated, and she was given one week to vacate.

Her first thought was to contact her friend. After settling final payments for the staff, she took her jewelry and hurried to Diya's house.

Their homes were close, so she hadn't called ahead, thinking she'd find either Diya or her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore.

Fidgeting nervously outside their door, Lena bit her nails until a housekeeper came out. "Sorry, Miss, but Miss Diya isn't home."

"Oh, no worries. Are Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore here?"

"They're out as well, I'm afraid."

Lena's heart sank. "Out? Do you know when they'll be back? It's urgent."

The housekeeper looked uncomfortable, her gaze shifting. "I... I don't know."

"Oh... well, please tell them I stopped by when they return."

Lena lowered her head and turned away, hiding her expression behind her hair. Back at home, she finally got a message from Diya.

"I'm so sorry, Lena. You must be feeling terrible. I wish I could be there with you... but my parents won't let me contact you..."

News of her family's financial downfall had spread like wildfire. Lena didn't blame the Whitmores for wanting to protect their daughter.

But she still needed help, so she texted Diya back, "Diya, is there any chance you could lend me a little money? I can give you my birthday jewelry as collateral."

Diya replied, "Oh no, I couldn't possibly take that jewelry from you. It's too meaningful to you. I'll see how much I can pull together, but it won't be a lot."

Lena typed, "It doesn't matter. Thank you so much, Diya."