New beginning: Billionaire love story

The Harris mansion was bathed in warm light, its classic architecture standing tall and imposing against the twilight sky. The grand dining hall was meticulously set, the clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of conversation filling the space.

Despite the luxurious surroundings, Alexander felt an inexplicable weight on his chest. The hum of the evening felt more suffocating than celebratory, the elegant dinner more of an obligation than a pleasure. Seated around the long mahogany table were Alexander's parents, Abigail, and her mother and father. Joan, Alexander's younger sister, was uncharacteristically quiet, pushing her food around her plate with disinterest. The atmosphere felt strained, though no one had openly acknowledged it.

Alexander forced a polite smile as he cut into his meal, though he had little appetite. The evening dragged on with idle conversation about business, travel, and family affairs.

"So, Alexander," Mr. Hastings, Abigail's father, began, setting his wine glass down with a soft clink. His gaze was sharp, appraising. "How's the hotel business treating you these days?"

Alexander sat a little straighter, falling back on the professionalism he was known for. "It's going well, sir. The Vegas property is almost ready for relaunch. Just a few final touch-ups left."

Mr. Hastings nodded with approval. "Good, good. You've always been a diligent man, Alex. Your father must be proud."

Alexander offered a small smile to his father, who gave an approving nod. His mother beamed at him, but her eyes carried a knowing look, sensing his disquiet.

As the conversation continued, Alexander tried to keep his focus on polite small talk, but the growing sense of dread in his stomach was hard to ignore. He wasn't sure where it was coming from, only that tonight felt more stifling than usual.

It didn't take long for the conversation to veer into more uncomfortable territory.

"You know," Mr. Hastings said, leaning back in his chair, "you and Abigail have known each other for so long. Families like our value tradition and strong bonds."

Alexander's brow furrowed slightly. He wasn't sure where this was going, but a part of him suspected, and

it made his stomach tighten.

Mr. Hastings continued, his tone casual but pointed. "Don't you think it's time to consider making that bond... more permanent?"

The words hung heavily in the air.

Alexander's fork froze midway to his mouth. He glanced at Abigail, who looked horrified, her eyes wide with panic. Her cheeks flushed crimson.

"Dad, stop," Abigail whispered, her voice strained. "Please."

Her father ignored her, pressing on with a smile that was anything but innocent. "I'm just saying, it makes sense. You're both successful,

And you get along so well."noveldrama

Alexander set his fork down carefully, his jaw tight. He turned his gaze to Mr. Hastings and spoke with a calmness that belied the tension he felt. "I respect Abigail deeply. But we're friends. That's all we've ever been."

The words came out more firmly than he intended, but there was no mistaking the finality in his tone. Abigail's face fell, her eyes darting away as if she'd been struck. She forced a small smile, but the disappointment was evident in the tremble of her lips.

The table went silent. The air grew thick with unspoken thoughts, and Joan shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her usual exuberance was absent, and she seemed smaller somehow, retreating into herself. Mr. Hastings smile faded, and he gave a tight nod. "Of course. Friends, then."

The rest of the dinner dragged on in awkward silence, each bite of food feeling like a chore. By the time the meal concluded, and they all moved to the living room, Alexander's patience was frayed. He excused himself, needing air, and stepped out onto the balcony. The cool night breeze met him, and he inhaled deeply, trying to clear his mind.

The city lights sprawled below, glittering like tiny stars. But the view did little to ease the unease in his chest. He leaned on the railing, his fingers gripping the cold metal as his thoughts swirled.

Why did everything feel so heavy lately?

The sound of the balcony door

opening broke his reverie. He turned his head slightly and saw Abigail stepping out, her expression uncertain. Her dark hair fluttered in the breeze, and her eyes, usually bright with confidence, looked clouded.

"Alex," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the rustle of leaves.

He straightened, offering a polite nod. "Abigail."

She walked up beside him, her gaze fixed on the city lights. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching between them.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "For what my father said. He shouldn't have put you on the spot like that."

Alexander sighed, his voice gentle. "It's not your fault. I know he means well."

She nodded, but her shoulders slumped. "He just... wants what he thinks is best for me."

Alexander's gaze softened. "I understand."

Abigail took a shaky breath. "But what about what I want?"

He turned to her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"

She swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the balcony railing. "Alex, I-" Her voice caught, but she pushed forward. "I've liked you for a long time. I always hoped that maybe... maybe you'd feel the same way." Her words hung between them, raw and vulnerable. Alexander closed his eyes briefly, regret washing over him.

"Abigail..." he began, his tone careful.

He looked at her, seeing the hope in her eyes mingling with fear. "You're an incredible person. You deserve someone who can give you everything you want. But that person isn't me."

Her lips trembled, and she blinked quickly, trying to keep her composure. "I just thought... maybe..."

He reached out, touching her shoulder gently. "I care about you. But not in the way you deserve. And I won't lie to you or give you false hope."

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "I understand."

The pain in her eyes cut through him, but he knew this was the kinder path. Dragging things out or pretending would only hurt them both more.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words heavy on his tongue.

She wiped her cheek and managed a wobbly smile. "Don't be. Thank you for being honest."

He nodded, his heart aching for his friend. He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back.

"I'm going to give you some space," he said softly.

Without waiting for her reply, he turned and walked back inside, the warmth of the house feeling cold and hollow.

Alexander found himself standing in

the empty hallway, his mind

spinning. The evening had left him drained, the weight of expectations and misunderstandings pressing on his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes.

For some reason, Claire's face flashed through his mind her fierce eyes, her determined spirit, the vulnerability she rarely showed. He wondered what she was doing, if she was okay.

Why is everything so damn complicated?

But he knew one thing for certain: the one person who lingered in his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to push her away, was Claire.

And that realization scared him more than anything else.