New beginning: Billionaire love story

In a hurry, Christian burst through the office door, barely giving it a knock. "Alex, you won't believe this-Claire's been arrested!"

Alexander's eyes widened as he straightened up from his desk, looking almost baffled by the news. "Arrested? Are you serious?" He could hardly believe it, but Christian thrust his phone in Alexander's direction, the headline already blaring across the screen. Alexander took the phone, reading the news alert multiple times as if expecting it to change with each read-through.

"It's real?" he asked, still staring at the screen, disbelief etched across his face.

"Unfortunately, yes," Christian confirmed with a solemn nod. "There's even a video clip of her being escorted into the police car."

Alexander handed Christian's phone back and sighed, quickly pulling his own phone out and dialing Claire's number. Unsurprisingly, it went straight to voicemail. Of course, if she was actually in a cell somewhere, answering his calls would be impossible. He clenched his jaw, frustrated.

Christian watched his boss with a knowing look. "Are we going down there?"

Alexander shook his head reluctantly, leaning back against his desk. "No. If I show up, it'll only create more of a media circus. I'll wait until things calm down and call her later." He tried to sound convincing, but Christian could see Alexander's hesitation. "Besides," he added, more to himself, "Claire will hate the extra attention."

Meanwhile, at Venus AMD, Frank was busy nursing a bruised ego. Monday's disastrous press release was still fresh in everyone's minds, and the board members had not been pleased far from it. His phone was already ringing with business partners calling to complain about Venus' incompetence, and some even hinted that their brand image was being tarnished by association with Venus. Frank could barely look at his phone anymore without seeing a new message about the debacle. Every news story he'd seen about the press event had a certain name attached to it that he despised: Claire. Despite his big plans, she'd managed to steal the spotlight just by stepping in to fix a botched presentation.

The knock on his door startled him out of his fuming, and he growled, "Come in!"

Robert walked in, not looking the least bit intimidated by Frank's irritation. He held a remote and looked at Frank, raising an eyebrow. "You're going to want to see this," he said, turning on the television. The news flickered onto the screen, and there it was-another Claire headline.

Frank frowned. "What's this now?"

Robert nodded at the screen. "Claire Peterson. She's at the police station. Rumor is, there's enough evidence to keep her there for a while."

Frank's initial surprise melted into a grin that widened with each passing second. "Finally. This is exactly the kind of news I needed to hear. Maybe the universe does have a sense of justice." He chuckled, clapping his hands together.

Robert gave him a questioning look. "I wouldn't be so quick to celebrate. But, I guess... it could mean the spotlight shifts away from our little robot mishap."

"Oh, it's more than that!" Frank exclaimed, almost giddy with the possibilities racing through his mind. "Imagine what this could mean for us! We should make a statement-something about how Metacortex can't even stay out of jail, let alone run a company." He was practically glowing with excitement.

Robert looked uncertain. "But you know some people might bring up the press release disaster."

"Let them," Frank shrugged, the smug grin still plastered across his face. "As long as they're talking about Claire and her 'scandal,' not about us. By tomorrow, Venus will be back on top."

Robert nodded thoughtfully, though he still looked skeptical. Frank could feel his plans setting into motion, a sense of renewed confidence creeping back.

Back at Alexander's office, he was pacing with his phone glued to his hand, every now and then refreshing his screen to see if there were any updates on Claire's situation. After what felt like an eternity, a notification popped up with a new headline.

He opened it, his brows furrowing as he scanned the article. A photo showed Claire stepping out of the police station, accompanied by a woman he didn't recognize and none other than Mr. Saint Laurent.

Alexander muttered under his breath, "Saint Laurent? What's he got to do with this?" His mind buzzed with questions. Did Claire ask for his help? Was Saint Laurent involved in her release? He doubted she'd ask for help like that, but it only made him more curious. He found himself feeling oddly possessive, wanting to see her for himself.

After a few moments of indecision,

Alexander made up his mind. If

Claire wouldn't answer his calls, he'd

have to go see her in person. He tried to rationalize his decision, telling himself he'd make it about the hotel's reputation, how her latest scandal could impact the Harris Hotel's image. It was a weak excuse, but at least it would get him through the door. He'd rather argue with her than continue this frustrating silence.

Alexander headed straight to Claire's penthouse after a long day, knowing she'd probably be fuming. The clock ticked past 9 PM when he finally parked outside her place, his fingers drumming impatiently on the steering wheel. He make his way up to her penthouse and pressed her doorbell and waited, listening to the silence on the other side. No answer. He frowned, wondering if she was even home, and was just about to call her when the door swung open.

There stood Claire, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here, Alexander?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

Alexander raised a brow and held his hands up in mock surrender. "Heard you made the headlines again, Ms. Peterson," he replied dryly. "What the hell happened this time?"

Claire rolled her eyes, stepping aside to let him in. "Believe me, it's not half as dramatic as they're making it out to be," she muttered, though her sigh gave away her frustration. She shut the door behind him and motioned to the living room. "Sit down if you're staying for this little debrief."

He followed her, watching as she sunk into the armchair, exasperated. "Care to explain?" he asked, folding his arms. "Because it's not just Metacortex on the line here. If this thing blows up, Harris won't come out unscathed."

Claire's eyes flashed with annoyance. "Oh, believe me, I know," she shot back. "And I've already thought about it." She took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself before looking at him. "Look, this whole mess is a massive misunderstanding. I'm sorry if you get dragged in, but I'm handling it. I'll deal with the fallout with my PR team."

Alexander leaned back, studying her carefully. "Alright, so how'd you even manage to get out?" he asked. "I'm assuming you had a rock-solid alibi."

Claire nodded, her jaw set. "I was at the hospital with Adrian's mother and grandfather when it all went down," she replied flatly. "The police checked my whereabouts, and it cleared me."

Alexander raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but curious. "And yet, they still managed to arrest you?"

Claire sighed heavily, running a hand

through her hair. "They had their reasons, let's put it that way," she muttered "But I don't want to get into it." She looked away, frustration etched on her face. "I'm well aware of the impact this could have, not just on Metacortex but on Harris too. So don't worry; I'm already working on containing the damage."

He stayed silent for a moment, feeling the tension between them. His initial frustration softened a bit, but he wasn't about to let it show. "Just thought I'd check, since it

seems like you're getting rather net

comfortable in the news," he said with a faint smirk, his voice a shade colder. "But it's not all just damage control. You're coming with me to Vegas. We need to check on the hotel, and frankly, it's the perfect

excuse to get you out of the

spotlight for a bit."

Claire's eyes widened in disbelief. "You think running off to Vegas is the solution here?" she asked, crossing her arms. "That'll look like I'm hiding, and I refuse to let anyone think I'm guilty of anything."

Alexander's smirk didn't falter. "With a concrete alibi, you're allowed to take a breather. This isn't about looking guilty; it's about being practical." He shrugged, meeting her glare with his own unflinching gaze. "If you want to keep your name out of the tabloids, maybe don't

give them so much to write about."noveldrama

She gritted her teeth, staring him down. "Fine," she replied curtly. "But don't expect me to play along with whatever show you're putting on."

Alexander shrugged, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Wouldn't dream of it, Ms. Peterson. Just make sure you're ready."