The following week, Alex and Naosa arrived in bustling New York City. Their days overflowed with academic conferences, media interviews, and celebratory parties. After a successful joint press conference with Kim, one journalist requested a private one-on-one interview with Alex.
She introduced herself with practiced charm as Veronica Blaise.
She wore intoxicating perfume, a body-hugging dress that left little to the imagination, perfectly curled long hair, and bold, striking makeup. Her voice carried a low, deliberately flirtatious tone. “You’re even more charming in person, Dr. O’Neill,” she said, lightly touching his arm with calculated intimacy.
Alex offered a polite, professional smile, trying to end the conversation quickly. But then his observant eyes caught sight of her shoes—and stilled with sudden recognition.
“Those are… quite lovely,” he said before he could stop himself.
Veronica’s face lit with delight. “Thank you! They’re the latest exclusive design—sold out almost immediately after release. You have remarkably sharp taste.”
Alex nodded, his interest genuine. “My fiancée absolutely loved them in another color, but they were gone before we could find her size. She rarely asks for things for herself. I really wanted to surprise her with them…”
Veronica leaned in with practiced seduction. “Tell me her exact size. I know the designer personally—I could check his private atelier for you.”
Surprised but genuinely grateful, Alex said that would be wonderful. When he realized he didn’t have his phone readily available, Veronica handed him an elegant business card. “Here—my personal number’s handwritten on the back. Call me anytime,” she said with a deliberate wink before walking away with confident swagger.
As she left, she murmured to herself with a satisfied, predatory smile, “A brilliant, handsome doctor… exactly my preferred type.”
During the taxi ride back to the hotel, Alex sent a brief thank-you text to her number and casually slipped the card into his jacket pocket without another thought.
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Back at the hotel, Alex needed to change quickly for the evening’s formal event. Naosa, already dressed beautifully, had thoughtfully laid out his tuxedo.
As he began undressing, she spoke gently, her tone tactful. “Darling… could you shower first? Your cologne seems a bit stronger than usual.”
Alex blinked in surprise, then laughed good-naturedly. “Of course.”
While he showered, Naosa picked up his jacket to hang it with her usual care. A business card fluttered out of the breast pocket and landed on the carpet.
It read Veronica Blaise in elegant script. A phone number was handwritten on the back—different from the printed professional one.
Naosa froze, her heartbeat suddenly racing.
She remembered Kacy’s warning. The identical name. A woman with a dangerous reputation.
But she said nothing. This was Alex’s triumphant day.
She carefully tucked the card back into the pocket and quietly went to straighten his tie with trembling hands.
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The celebration was magnificent. Kim and her partner joined them at their table, and the atmosphere was warm and festive. Alex delivered his acceptance speech with calm eloquence, closing with heartfelt thanks to his research team, his colleagues, and finally, to his beloved fiancée—“who will become my wife in four short months.”
That night, in their luxurious hotel room, they curled together as usual. Then Alex’s phone chimed with an incoming message.
He glanced at it, stood abruptly, and stepped into the adjoining room for privacy.
The notification tone pinged again. And again. And again.
Several minutes later, he returned to bed.
When Naosa looked up, her eyes quietly searching his face, Alex wrapped his arms around her with reassuring warmth. “Don’t worry about anything,” he said gently. “It’s just logistical coordination for tomorrow’s meetings.”
She nodded with a trusting smile. But deep inside, something felt profoundly wrong.
At this hour? And hiding it from me?
For the first time in a long while, she felt a cold thread of fear wind through her chest like ice.
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The next day, Veronica contacted Alex and asked to meet at a café near his scheduled meeting. Believing she had brought the shoes, Alex went with anticipation.
He found her waiting elegantly—but she was empty-handed.
“I was hoping to bring them today,” she said with an apologetic smile, “but there was a mix-up with the designer. I’m terribly sorry. Please allow me to treat you to lunch as a proper apology.”
Before Alex could decline, she had already steered him toward an upscale restaurant with practiced ease.
After a quick but intimate lunch, Alex returned to the hotel for his next meeting. As he leaned in to kiss Naosa, she instinctively turned away.
“Shower first,” she said, her voice distant and strained. That same overpowering perfume clung to him again.
Fighting back tears, Naosa told herself it had to be some terrible misunderstanding.
She turned on the television—only to see Veronica Blaise hosting a news segment, poised and elegant. A sophisticated, sensual woman—utterly unlike herself.
She quickly switched it off with trembling fingers.
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That night, Alex made gentle, loving advances in bed, but Naosa turned away, her voice barely audible. “I’m exhausted.” Alex embraced her from behind and soon drifted into peaceful sleep—completely unaware that she lay there crying silently into her pillow.
The day after tomorrow was Alex’s birthday—the one precious day Naosa had longed for, meticulously planned, and held onto throughout this increasingly hectic trip.
But the following afternoon, while Alex attended meetings, a message arrived from Veronica: Let’s have dinner tomorrow night. I’ll definitely bring the shoes then.
Alex replied with a simple Sure, thanks, never realizing the devastating weight those words carried.
That evening, when he tried to hold Naosa tenderly, she gently but firmly pushed him away. Is she sulking because I’ve been so busy with work? he wondered, confused. He held her lightly, whispering an apology. She said nothing.
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The next morning, Naosa woke filled with hope. But Alex suddenly mentioned an urgent morning meeting that couldn’t be postponed. She looked disappointed but said nothing, telling herself they would spend the evening together as promised.
Then Alex added with devastating thoughtlessness, “Ah—sorry about tonight, too. I’ve got a dinner appointment I can’t reschedule. Just order room service and relax. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”
Naosa froze. “No… wait. We made a promise. Today was supposed to be just for us. Please don’t go.”
Alex kissed her forehead lightly. “Don’t be childish about this. I’ll make it up to you later.” He began dressing in haste.
Naosa’s voice trembled. “Who are you meeting tonight?”
Alex hesitated for a telling moment. “A journalist.”
Her expression broke completely. “Kacy warned you about her. And still—tonight, of all nights?”
“She’s just helping with something important. Don’t worry,” Alex said lightly, grabbing his bag. “I’ll be back late. Love you,” he called as he left without looking back.
Naosa collapsed in tears.
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Would the old Alex ever have abandoned her like that?
She had dreamed of making this birthday unforgettable—a once-in-a-lifetime celebration. And yet, he had chosen to spend it with another woman.
She slipped off her engagement ring with trembling fingers and placed it beside Alex’s carefully chosen gift—an elegant watch—and the heartfelt birthday card she had written with such love.
She called home, crying as she explained everything to Lu and Kacy, asking them to book her an early return flight. Then she packed her suitcase with mechanical precision, called a taxi, and whispered, broken-voiced, “LaGuardia Airport, please,” and left the hotel for good.
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