Sunlight spilled into the dim, luxurious room as the three occupants slowly stirred awake. On one side of the bed lay Aaron, arms splayed like a soldier resting after war. On the other side, by the single velvet curtain, was Alina. Her short blonde bob reflected the golden rays of morning, and for a moment, Tony simply forgot everything .
Cute. No—supercute, he thought to himself, lips twitching slightly into a smile. The sunlight made her look like something out of a dream.
Then, without warning, Alina's eyes fluttered open. They landed right on Tony.
"Good morning, boss," she said with a small smirk.
(Boss??? Oh yeah, her cuteness made me forget I'm her boss.)
Tony flinched slightly, realizing he'd been caught.
"Yeah... good morning, Alina," he replied, trying to play it cool.
"Huhhhhhh?" she drawled in a playful voice. "Were you admiring me just now?"
"Nah, I wasn't," he muttered quickly, eyes shifting away. "Just zoned out."
"If you say so," she replied, but her grin said she wasn't convinced.
(Maybe Tony's trying to build a harem?)
After a round of banter, the three took their turns in the bath, freshened up, and dressed for the day. Breakfast was simple, yet efficient — toast, eggs, and strong black coffee. The silence was warm, the kind that lingered between people who'd shared something chaotic.
Suddenly, the massive flat-screen TV on the wall flickered to life. A news bulletin cut into the calm.
BREAKING: BELLINGHAMTOWERINVADED!!
The screen flashed images of shattered glass, emergency vehicles, and a chaotic crowd gathering outside the skyscraper.
Aaron turned slowly to Tony. "Sir... this was expected."
"Yeah," Tony replied, voice low. "I kinda saw this coming. That fight last night... it was explosive."
They finished breakfast in a more serious tone now, the weight of the world slowly sinking in.
Alina stood and picked up her jacket. "I'll go first. If someone sees us all leaving together, it might raise suspicion."
Tony nodded. "Smart move. Go on." Then he turned to Aaron. "And you… you're benched for today. Your body still has wounds. Rest up. That's an order."
"But sir—"
Tony interrupted gently, though his tone was firm. "Aaron, it's not up for debate. 1379 — that's the pin to my second account. Take the day off and spoil yourself. You earned it."
Aaron paused. A mixture of guilt and appreciation filled his voice. "If you wish so, sir. Good luck out there."
Tony nodded. "Thanks."
Alina slipped out quietly. Hours later, Tony stepped into his custom limousine. The city buzzed, unaware of the deeper war quietly unfolding behind glass doors and corporate smiles. As the limo pulled up in front of Bellingham Tower, Tony stepped out and looked up.
"Woahhhhhh," he muttered.
The sight was surreal — a gaping, shattered window on one of the upper floors. Glass still sparkled in the sunlight like frozen rain. The chaos was undeniable. The damage came from the server room, he realized, judging by the floor's placement.
Tony entered the tower and took the elevator. It was silent except for the mechanical hum and the low jazz music playing from hidden speakers. When the doors opened, he stepped into a hallway cordoned off by yellow and black tape: DO NOT CROSS scrawled across it.
"Sir Tony!" a nearby employee called out.
Tony nodded. "What happened?" he asked, trying his best to sound shocked and innocent.
The worker, wearing a nervous look, replied, "There was a break-in. Server annex, top-level. No alarms went off. Security got knocked out like amateurs. Whoever did this... knew exactly what they were doing."
"What did they take?"
"Nothing, actually. Or maybe they did and wiped all traces. Or maybe they just wanted to send a message."
Tony smirked faintly.
So Alina pulled it off, huh? he thought. This girl might just need a promotion. She's not just cute — she's brilliant.
Lost in thought, he barely noticed a tap on his shoulder. He turned.
Clara.
Her sharp eyes narrowed, tone laced with a mix of annoyance and genuine concern.
"Tony? What the hell is this?"
Clara — 23 years old, MBA and BBA from Arizona State, hand-picked by Cristiano Bellingham himself. If there was one person who could see through him, it was her.
Tony forced a calm smile. "Just... chaos. With no proof who did it."
She stared at him. "Uh-huh. And no CCTV footage either?"
"They disabled everything," he said. "They planned this out to the detail."
"Funny," she said. "How these things keep happening... right when you're nearby."
He met her gaze evenly. "Coincidence, I guess."
She let the silence hang before nodding slightly. "If you say so."
Tony left the scene, stepping into the executive elevator. He pressed the top floor. The doors closed behind him.
His office awaited.
Tony's private office was a sleek fusion of modern minimalism and cold dominance. Matte-black walls framed a panoramic window with a view of the skyline. A glass desk with blue underglow lighting sat in the center, its surface almost bare except for a tablet and a single fountain pen. Behind him, the painting of Cristiano Bellingham glared like a ghost watching over him — legacy or burden, it wasn't clear.
Hours passed in silence. Then, as dusk bled into the city, Tony locked his office using his fingerprint and stepped into the hallway.
A familiar voice called out to him.
"Tony! What's up?"
He turned. Dent.
Tony's jaw tightened. "What do you want?"
Dent gave a lazy grin. "Just wondering if you were involved in the break-in?"
Tony's voice turned sharp. "Nah. It's not like I know anything about Aurelia."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Dent's smile faded. "Look, kid... don't get involved in things bigger than you."
Tony interrupted, stepping closer, voice low and full of ice.
"Listen, Dent. Don't try me. I'm giving you time — time to cancel whatever you're planning. Don't forget, the past isn't always friendly."
"Kid, you're swimming with sharks. They don't care if you're an heir." Dent replied back. Malice dripping from his voice.
A black Mercedes-Benz G-Wagon pulled up with a soft purr.
(Now that's my kind of ride.)
Tony opened the door, looked back, and said one final thing — not a threat, but a promise.
"Dent Diego can't beat Tony Bellingham. And that's a fact."
Then he stepped in and shut the door behind him.
As the car pulled away into the night, he leaned his head back against the leather headrest. Everything was spiraling now — the company, the lies, the people watching him. Clara's suspicion. Dent's warning. Alina's capabilities. Aaron's loyalty. And of course Mia's love.
He closed his eyes.
I didn't choose this chaos, but maybe. The Chaoschose me.