the moment alexandra stepped into the venue, she was enveloped in an atmosphere of quiet opulence. the room was bathed in a blend of warm golden light from grand chandeliers overhead and cool blue spotlights that illuminated different corners, creating an intimate yet electric mood. the air carried the scent of expensive perfume, aged wine, and the faintest trace of cigar smoke—an unmistakable sign that the city's elite had gathered once again.

soft music pulsed through the space, a smooth jazz melody woven seamlessly into the hum of low conversations and the occasional clinking of glasses.

alexandra moved with ease, her crimson dress flowing around her like liquid fire as she weaved through the crowd. every now and then, familiar faces emerged from the sea of tailored suits and designer gowns. old friends, acquaintances, people she had once been close to before life pulled them all in different directions.

a few stopped her with warm smiles, some with curious glances. the usual pleasantries were exchanged—small talk about travel, business, fashion. hollow conversations wrapped in elegance. she played along, nodding in all the right places, flashing effortless, well-practiced smiles.

but it wasn't what she was here for.

excusing herself with a polite tilt of her head, she made her way toward the bar.

the sleek, polished counter stretched before her, lined with crystal glasses reflecting the ambient light. a bartender in a crisp white shirt moved with expert precision, pouring drinks with an air of detached professionalism.

leaning against the bar was a girl around her age, her fingers lazily tracing the rim of her glass. there was something effortlessly cool about her—dark eyes, posture relaxed yet self-assured.

"wine, red," she ordered smoothly, knowing there would be nothing stronger. the kind of fun alcohol she wanted wouldn't be served here.

alexandra leaned against the bar, the crystal stem of her wine glass cool against her fingertips. the low hum of conversation and the soft clinking of glasses filled the air, mingling with the distant melody of a live orchestra. the golden glow of chandeliers reflected in the deep red of her drink as she lifted it to her lips, taking a slow sip.

beside her, a girl in a sleek black dress sat stiffly, her expression carefully neutral but not quite masking her discomfort. she stirred the ice in her glass absentmindedly, watching the room with detached disinterest.

"you liking it here?" alexandra asked, her british accent smooth and effortless.

the girl blinked, turning slightly to face her. it was clear from the way her shoulders tensed that she hadn't expected anyone to strike up a conversation. still, she offered a polite smile—small, reserved.

"it's... different," she admitted.

alexandra tilted her head, amused by the noncommittal answer. "that doesn't sound like a yes."

the girl let out a quiet laugh, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes.

alexandra extended a hand. "i'm alexandra."

the girl hesitated for only a second before shaking it. "noah."

the name didn't ring a bell. alexandra studied her, searching for some recognition, but nothing came.

"i don't know you, do i?" alexandra asked, her tone light but curious.

noah shook her head. "i don't think so. i just moved to london."

alexandra hummed in understanding, setting her glass down as she cast a glance over the glittering crowd. "any special occasion why?"

there was a beat of silence before Noah answered.

"my mom married william leister, so we moved from america to here." the words settled between them, heavier than they should have been. alexandra stilled. her fingers curled slightly around the base of her glass.

william leister.

the name alone carried weight. power. and something much more dangerous. her gaze flicked back to Noah, her expression giving away nothing. so this was nicholas's new stepsister.

"william leister," alexandra repeated slowly, as if tasting the name. she let a small, unreadable smile play on her lips. "that's... quite the family to marry into."

noah exhaled, swirling her drink. "tell me about it."

alexandra didn't miss the way her voice dipped slightly, the hint of exhaustion laced beneath it.

it was almost amusing. noah had no idea who she was speaking to. no idea that alexandra knew more about the leisters than she probably ever would.

she could have warned her. could have told her exactly what she was walking into.

but where would the fun be in that?

"welcome to london, then," alexandra said smoothly, raising her glass in a mock toast before taking another sip.

noah smirked slightly, clinking her glass against alexandra's before drinking.

before alexandra could say anything else, a subtle shift in the air stole her attention.

the kind of shift that made people turn their heads. that made whispers stir like a quiet storm.

she followed their gazes instinctively. and then she saw him.

nicholas leister.

he had just stepped into the room, effortlessly commanding attention in a way that only he could. his suit—perfectly tailored, jet black—fit him like a second skin. his hair was slightly tousled, sharp eyes scanning the crowd with an unreadable expression.

but it wasn't just him.

his arm rested around the waist of a blonde—stunning, poised, the kind of girl who looked like she belonged on his arm. she laughed at something he said, tilting her head just slightly toward him. 

alexandra's grip tightened around her glass, just for a second.

because nicholas was already looking at her.

his gaze met hers across the room, unwavering. dark. knowing.

she didn't move, didn't breathe.

it was as if, in that moment, the past crashed headfirst into the present, the ghosts of their history swirling around them.

no one else knew. no one else could know. but they did. they always would.

beside her, noah shifted. she followed alexandra's gaze, and recognition flickered in her eyes.

"ah," she murmured, lips curving into a smirk. "you do know the leisters."

alexandra smiled, but it was razor-sharp. "you could say that."

the night dragged on, stretching longer than alexandra would have liked. she had danced for a little while with noah, exchanging laughter and half-hearted twirls under the dim glow of the chandeliers. she had caught up with old friends, their conversations filled with polite reminiscence and veiled curiosity. but inevitably, as always, her mother found her.

catherine sinclair had a way of cornering her daughter, forcing her into conversations with her circle of elegant, well-connected acquaintances. tonight was no different. the women she was introduced to were all prominent figures in the fashion industry—designers, editors, the type of people her mother desperately wished alexandra would care about.

she didn't.

the smiles, the carefully crafted small talk, the subtle assessments of her posture, her dress, her potential—it was suffocating.

so she ended it.

"mother, may i leave? i have to take zach home," alexandra asked, feigning innocence.

catherine barely spared her a glance. "fine. be back by twelve."

alexandra checked the time. 11:30.

there was no chance she'd be back.

"of course, mother," she lied effortlessly, offering a well-rehearsed smile before turning away. obeying, but not obeying.

she stepped outside just in time to see a red ferrari speeding off into the night. noah and nicholas had left only minutes ago. the sight of them together stirred something unpleasant in her chest, but she pushed it aside.

the cool air wrapped around her as she lingered on the steps, watching the city lights blur in the distance. that was when she spotted zach making his way up toward the entrance.

"hey, zach," she called, stepping toward him. "can you please help me escape this hell?"

zach let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "i thought you'd never ask."

together, they slipped away toward the private garage, their footsteps muffled against the marble floors. the space was dimly lit, filled with rows of expensive cars that gleamed under the artificial lights. alexandra's ferrari was supposed to be there—waiting for her.

zach unlocked the car, sliding into the driver's seat. alexandra moved toward the passenger side, opening the door and settling in.

"only this one time," zach smirked as he adjusted the mirrors. "you get to let me drive."

alexandra huffed in amusement, reaching for the glove compartment. she had left her lip gloss in there earlier. but as she rummaged through it, her fingers met nothing but loose papers and an empty space where it should have been.

her eyes flickered toward the car key in zach's hand, a strange feeling creeping into her stomach.

"can i see that key?" she asked casually.

zach handed it over without question. alexandra turned it over in her palm, running her thumb along the engraved initials.

n.l.

her stomach dropped.

"dude," she breathed, staring at the key. "you just gave my car to nicholas?"

zach stiffened. "uh—"

"where is he?" she demanded, her voice sharper now.

zach hesitated before sighing. "heading home."

alexandra clenched her jaw and shoved the key back into his hand. "drive there. now."

zach didn't argue. he started the engine, the car purring to life as they pulled out of the garage and onto the streets of london.

a few minutes in, zach's phone buzzed on the dashboard. his fingers drummed against the wheel as he glanced at it but didn't move to check.

"could you check that for me? please, lex?" he asked, his focus on the road.

alexandra picked up his phone, effortlessly typing in his password. nicholas's contact popped up at the top of the messages.

her breath caught as she read the text.

'i left her on the albert bridge.'

what the fuck?

alexandra's mind raced. left who on the bridge?

she turned to zach, her voice urgent. "zach, instead of his house, drive to the albert bridge. now please."

zach shot her a confused glance. "what? why?"

"it's nick," she said, gripping the phone. "he left someone—or something—on the bridge."

zach didn't question it. with a sharp turn, the car veered onto a new path, speeding toward the heart of the city.

alexandra's pulse quickened as she stared at the screen, the weight of the message settling deep in her chest.

whatever nicholas had done—whoever he had left—she had a sinking feeling this night was far from over.

( © SOLXSTRS 2025 )