Chapter Three
Mikkel
“The soul always knows what to do to heal itself. The challenge is to silence the mind.”
~ Caroline Myss
R ed.
Those striking green eyes I had the privilege of gazing into Friday night.
That captivating woman I’d had the pleasure of seeing not once, but twice.
Que Dios me ayude. 2
The black fitted romper hugged her in all the right places—a masterpiece of temptation. The fabric clung like a second skin, tracing every curve and dip with maddening precision. She was perfection—art in a museum I had no right to admire. But that didn’t stop me.
Then there was her hair—a fiery halo of deep copper-platinum curls, pulled into a loose bun, stray strands teasing the nape of her neck. I spent hours last night scrolling through Pinterest and Google, searching for the perfect shade. I couldn’t get it out of my head—the most stunning color I’d ever seen, on the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
And her skin. Rich. Dark. Luminous. The contrast against the black romper was breathtaking, her beauty timeless. Untouchable. My glasses weren’t enough to frame the sight of her; she was a masterpiece, and I was helpless—completely undone by the very thought of her.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her all weekend. Each rep at the gym felt heavier. Her laughter echoed in my mind, throwing off my rhythm. At the office, I caught myself staring out the window, wondering if I’d ever see her again. Even while cooking, the scent of rosemary and thyme reminded me of her—but no meal could compare to those fleeting moments with her.
The weekend slipped through my fingers like sand, and now, as Monday morning dawned, memories of her clung to me, igniting a quiet, reckless hope that I’d see her again.
My phone buzzed incessantly, snapping me out of it. The group chat. Unsurprisingly, Arnoldo and Ronan were already bickering.
Reyes: When are we hanging out again?
Alex: ask Ronan. he’s too busy being a hero.
Ro: My apologies for saving lives. Won’t happen again.
Me: When you aren’t saving lives, you’re soul searching in Italy.
Ro: stronzo.
Luci: dio mio.
Dill: Why are you all awake so early ?
Ro: Why are you still in bed, Mr. Busy?
Dill: One night out drained my social battery. Need a week to recover.
And there it was, the goddamn catalyst. One message was all it took for everyone to start typing.
Alex: you willingly went out?
Ro: what?
Reyes: I’m on my way to your house.
Luci: what a revelation.
Dill: Everyday I contemplate muting or exiting this chat.
Dill: If you all must know, I went to have a drink with Mikkel.
Dill: Arnoldo, don’t come to my house; I don’t want to see you.
Reyes: I love you too, and I’m still stopping by.
Dill: Wouldn’t be Arnoldo Reyes if you didn’t.
Ro: i love you, Arnoldo.
Dill: Is this your attempt to get attention?
Ro: fuck off.
Reyes: Yes, Ronan. I love you too.
Ro: great. just checking and including myself.
Alex: what about me? do i not deserve love?
Luci: do not enable them, Alexander.
I chuckled at the banter, knowing that beneath the jests lay genuine affection among us.
We met in university, thrown together as roommates by chance. At first, it was chaos—Dillon, the quiet thinker; Ronan, the heart; Arnoldo, the blunt realist; Lucio, the ghost who barely spoke; and Alex, the self-appointed ‘dad’ of the group. And me? The adaptable one. The perfectionist. The one who never said no. Somehow, that messy start turned into something unshakable— brotherhood .
I pushed the silk sheets aside as sunlight poured through the windows of my penthouse at Central Park Tower. Every corner was filled with white and cream—from the marble countertops to the thick rugs underfoot—offering rare moments of calm in a life that never slowed. The view of Central Park shifted with the seasons, always changing yet somehow constant.
After a quick shower, I threw on a white shirt and jeans, running a hand through my hair as I moved through the kitchen. The cool marble under my fingertips helped steady me for a moment, clearing my head before the day began.
Just as I was about to leave, my phone buzzed—Dillon asking if I could stop by later. I sent a quick reply and headed out, ready to see Alex.
“Good morning, Mara,” I greeted chirpily, my face breaking into a bright smile.
Mara Xander-Williams— Alexander’s wife, Dillon’s sister, and a surrogate sister to the rest of us.
“Mikkel!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up as she walked over to me. “I had no idea you were coming today! How are you?”
“I thought Alex would’ve told you, but I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m great,” she said, her hand instinctively resting on her baby bump.
“Thought Alex would’ve told you what?” Alex asked, stepping into the room.
Alexander Williams—a tall, handsome figure with a warm smile that reached his dark brown eyes.
“Told Mara I was coming over.”
He shrugged, heading for the fridge.
“Want anything, angel?” His voice was soft with affection, his gaze fixed on her like she was the only person in the room.
She shook her head gently. “No, thank you. I’ll make lunch after my nap.”
“I’ll make lunch. Get some rest,” he replied, his tone firm yet tender.
She rolled her eyes, a playful smirk on her lips. “Pregnancy doesn’t mean incapability.”
“True,” he agreed, his expression softening with a gentle smile, “but I’m here to take any and every form of pressure off you. Take your nap.”
“Ugh,” she groaned, but there was a hint of pleasure in her voice. “But Alex, I ca-”
“I’ll take you shopping after your nap.”
Her face lit up. “At Hudson Yards?”
“Anywhere you want, angel,” he confirmed, his eyes twinkling.
“Want anything, Suarez?” Alex asked as Mara headed upstairs.
“Whiskey, thanks.”
He poured a drink, and we made our way to the living room.
“You good?” I asked, noticing the uncertainty in his expression. Something was off .
He exhaled, clearly frustrated.
“I’ll take that as a no. What happened?”
“Mara’s smiling, but trust me, it’s just a cover for the crime she’s plotting.” Alex exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “I swear, one of these days, I’m waking up with a pillow over my head because my schedule is only getting worse.”
He took a sip of his scotch, and only then did I realize we were drinking before midday.
“Have you told her about it yet?”
He took a slow sip of his drink. “Not yet.”
“Didn’t you just get back from a trip?”
He nodded. “I got in this morning around three, and Mara had a few unpleasant words to exchange with me. I didn’t even get a welcome home kiss.”
“Yikes.” I winced. “That doesn’t sound great.”
He let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s been upset at everything lately, and I can’t blame her.”
I leaned back, eyebrows raised. “Everything? Or just you being gone all the time?”
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly worn out. “A little of both. She’s frustrated I’m not around, but it’s not like I can just snap my fingers and fix it.”
“Have you thought about scaling back?” I asked. “You’ve been flying nonstop for years. Maybe it’s time to take a breather.”
He chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Scaling back would mean leaving money on the table. Not happening.”
“You’re rich, Alex. Money isn’t everything,” I said pointedly. “Your marriage? Your son on the way? Those should be your priorities.”
“They are my priorities,” he admitted, his voice dropping. “But it’s not that easy.”
I whistled low. “You’re playing with fire, Alexander. ”
He groaned. “Tell me about it.”
I sipped my drink, considering him for a moment. “So, what’s the plan? Besides getting yelled at and possibly murdered.”
He hesitated, then smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m buying the airline.”
I choked on my drink, coughing as I set the glass down. Was he serious? Out of all the ways to fix a marriage, buying an entire airline was nowhere near the list of sane options.
“WHAT?”
“Look, it sounds crazy, I get it,” he admitted, rubbing his jaw. “But I can’t keep promising Mara I’ll be home and then breaking that promise. If I control the damn thing, I can make sure I’m there when it matters.”
I stared at him. “How much?”
“About forty million dollars,” he admitted with a laugh. “But it’s a long-term investment. I can restructure the flight rotations, make sure I’m home more often. Everybody wins.”
“You think Mara’s just going to forget about everything once you hand her an airline?”
He shrugged, that same smug grin tugging at his lips. “It’s a start. Besides, this airline’s been on my radar for a while now. The timing just lines up.”
“When do you plan to tell her this?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He gave me a sheepish smile. “Once the deal is finalized. You know, save her the stress.”
I stared at him, incredulous. “Yeah, because nothing says stress-free like dropping ‘Angel, I bought an airline’ into casual conversation.”
He laughed, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You think she’ll be mad?”
“Mara’s unpredictable,” I smirked. “But if you play your cards right, it might just be the thing that saves your ass.”
“I like your optimism.”
I shook my head. “Only you would try to solve a marriage problem with a business acquisition. ”
He raised his glass. “They should name an award after me if this works.”
He tapped his glass thoughtfully, then shifted the conversation. “How was Friday night with Dillon?”
I hesitated, then admitted, “I met someone.” My voice wavered between excitement and hesitation, but the grin pulling at my lips gave me away.
“You meet people all the time. What’s different now?” His tone was casual, but his raised brow told me he was already suspicious.
I leaned back, my gaze drifting. Copper curls. A quiet confidence. Unparalleled beauty. The way she looked at me like she saw right through the bullshit.
“I sat with her for about an hour. We talked, and…” I exhaled, shaking my head slightly. “I haven’t stopped thinking about her since.”
His eyes widened, curiosity flickering through his usual stoic demeanor. “What’s her name? What does she look like? Did you get her number?”
The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “She’s got this hair—fire and gold mixed together, like you can’t look away. And her beauty…” I shook my head, a soft laugh escaping. “Man, she’s breathtaking. I could listen to her talk for hours.”
His expression turned pointed. “What’s her name?”
I winced, scratching the back of my neck. “I don’t know.”
He blinked. “You don’t know?”
“I don’t know,” I repeated, sharper now. “We started talking, got caught up, and before I knew it, we were interrupted.”
Silence stretched between us before he asked, “Does she live in the city?”
“I don’t know that either,” I admitted. “I saw her at the airport three weeks ago, then again last weekend.”
He stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “Three weeks ago? And you ran into her again? That’s gotta be divine intervention.”
“Maybe it is,” I murmured, the thought oddly comforting .
“If she’s in New York, there’s a ninety-nine percent chance you’ll see her again.”
I clung to that number like a promise, even as doubt pressed in.
He let the silence linger, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Alright, lover boy, we’ll call this fate. Now, I need a driver for Mara.”
I blinked, switching gears. “A driver?”
He leaned back into his pristine white couch. “Someone safe. Reliable.”
“All my employees are reliable, but I’ll handle it.” I already had the perfect person in mind.
His tone turned serious. “I don’t doubt your business—it’s number one in the damn state. I just need my wife protected.”
“Consider it done.” I laid out the process, and he nodded.
“All settled.”
A glance at my watch—9:04 a.m. Time to get to work.
I left and headed to Lower Manhattan, where my empire awaited.
Elite Rides started with a bank loan and my parents’ support, and now? A multi-billion-dollar enterprise, New York’s leading luxury transport company. Two hundred and eighty drivers, reserves on standby—precision and efficiency at its core.
Stepping into my office, I acknowledged my staff with quick nods, keeping the momentum going.
Morison, my ever composed assistant, greeted me. “Good morning, Mr. Suarez.”
“Morning. Let Sapphire know I need to see her.”
Minutes later, she walked in, her posture crisp, her expression sharp.
“Good morning, Mr. Suarez,” Sapphire Stone greeted, settling into the chair across from me. Tall, light brown hair, the backbone of operations. Without her, none of this ran smoothly.
“There’s a request from Alexander Williams in the company email. I need you to handle it.”
Sapphire nodded, handing me a thick brown spiral-bound folder. “These are thirty new applications that need vetting. ”
I flipped through the pages. “I’ll get on it. Speaking of vetting, don’t forget your trip to Chicago next week. We need to kick off the expansion integration, and I want you to assemble a solid team.”
Her expression sharpened with focus. “I’ve been preparing. I’ll finalize the itinerary and coordinate with the new hires to run the BETA system.”
“Good. Mr. Reyes will be there for a day to assist with the transition. He knows Chicago better than anyone, so use his expertise.”
“Already done, sir,” she replied, her tone firm. “This is our chance to get the expansion off on the right foot.”
“Perfect.” My mind was already racing ahead. The stakes were higher than ever.
She gave a small nod before walking off, leaving me alone with the folder. I opened it, but my focus wavered. Exhaling sharply, I shoved it aside and pulled up the expansion details instead—numbers, logistics, projections. Every figure had to align, every risk accounted for. I scanned each line thrice, then again, hunting for gaps, errors—anything we might’ve missed.
I adjusted the papers, straightened the edges, and rechecked my calculations. This has to work.
Failure wasn’t an option.
Then, it hit me—an invisible fist squeezing my chest, the weight pressing down. What if this fell through? The thought dug in, tightening its grip.
I reached for my phone. “Morison, push my meeting back. I need a few minutes.”
He nodded and stepped out. The moment the door shut, I locked it. Slumping into my chair, I pressed trembling hands to my face. Breathe.
A sharp inhale. A slow exhale.
I wiped my face, forcing myself to get it together. Focus. I paced the room, deep breaths keeping the panic just barely at bay. It wasn’t gone, but it was manageable. Just enough .
Straightening my shirt, I walked into the meeting, letting Morison take the lead. I nodded when necessary, my expression unreadable. But the weight never lifted.
By the time it ended, I needed an escape.
The gym. The only place where the pressure eased, even if just for a moment.
With each rep, each set, my pulse steadied. The tension unwound, little by little.
And then— her .
Copper platinum curls. A smile that wouldn’t leave my mind.
Jasmine and amber, lingering in my senses.
Everything else faded. The gym, the weights, the pressure.
For one fleeting moment, there was only her.