Did You Bring Your ID Card

The heavy mahogany door to Jaxson Reed's bedroom flew open, crashing against the plaster wall with a deafening bang that shattered the dead silence of the night. Jaxson bolted upright in his bed, his heart hammering against his ribs. The luxurious silk sheets tangled around his legs as he tried to orient himself in the dark. Before his eyes could even adjust, a glaringly bright smartphone screen was shoved inches from his groggy face.

Winston Rutherford stood beside the mattress. The seventy-year-old billionaire practically vibrated with excitement. His eyes were wide, darting between the glowing screen and Jaxson's face. He tapped the glass with a thick finger, scrolling rapidly.

“Look at this!” Winston chuckled gleefully, his voice booming through the quiet room. “Now, this is called professional! It's incredible how he can win over two women on the same day. First, Diana. Then, Harper.”

Jaxson squinted against the harsh blue light of the phone. His hair stuck up in every direction. His eyes burned with exhaustion. He focused on the screen, recognizing the identical back-of-the-bike photos posted by both famous women. The internet was exploding with the gossip, the comments and likes refreshing by the thousands every single second.

Jaxson rubbed his temples. “Mr. Rutherford, you woke me up in the middle of the night for this?” he asked cautiously, his voice thick with sleep.

Winston nodded, unbothered by the younger man's misery. “Yes. Is there anything more important than this?”

The ridiculous reply rendered Jaxson speechless. He stared at the elderly tycoon, wondering how he had never noticed that Oakhaven's richest, most powerful man operated like a teenage gossip columnist.

Winston suddenly leaned closer, the screen illuminating his eager expression. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Jax, do you think our Lord Kensington and Harper have actually retreated to a hotel and slept together after the concert?”

Jaxson groaned internally. Previously, Winston had asked the exact same question about Vance and Diana. When Jaxson had given a logical, conservative answer, Winston had chided him. Exhausted and just wanting to go back to sleep, Jaxson decided to sarcastically agree just to appease the old man.

“I guess so,” Jaxson said, keeping a straight face as he lay back down. “I'm sure they went to a hotel and slept together.”

The answer did not get the reaction Jaxson hoped for. Winston’s face instantly hardened. He snatched the phone back, glaring at Jaxson.

“How can you be so sure about that?” Winston scolded, his tone suddenly sharp and defensive. “I doubt they would broadcast it to you if they did. Stop talking nonsense about our supreme master!”

Jaxson stared at the ceiling, thoroughly annoyed. He threw the blankets off his legs and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. “Mr. Rutherford, I have other things to do. I have to go now.”

“Get lost!” Winston waved a hand dismissively, his eyes already glued back to the social media feeds.

Jaxson walked out of the bedroom miserably, dragging his feet down the hallway. He was a light sleeper, and the abrupt wake-up call had effectively ruined his night.

Meanwhile, miles away from the sprawling billionaire estates, a biting wind swept through the empty city streets. Beneath the dim, flickering glow of a solitary suburban streetlight, Harper Quinn pressed her body flush against Vance. She wrapped her arms fiercely around his waist, interlacing her fingers tight over his stomach. She rested her soft face against his broad back, closing her eyes and inhaling the crisp, masculine scent of his leather jacket mixed with the night air. The mechanical clicking of the bicycle gears echoed rhythmically into the quiet darkness.

“Van,” Harper spoke into the quiet night, her voice cutting through the wind. “I recently invested a staggering one hundred million dollars into establishing a new film production company in Oakhaven. Mr. Rutherford will be collaborating with us. I named it Apex Pictures.”

Vance kept his eyes on the cracked pavement ahead, his legs pumping the pedals steadily.

“You are the absolute largest shareholder of the entire entertainment company,” Harper continued, squeezing his waist tighter. “The company will sign contracts with a handful of artists in the next two days. Please come over to have a look. I might need your help evaluating them.”

“Sure,” Vance agreed verbally, his gaze fixed forward.

However, his tone remained cold and icy. After a brief pause, he added, “But you're going to have to handle all the operations yourself. I have absolutely no time for such trivial matters.”

Hearing the cold distance in his voice, Harper's breath hitched. She opened her eyes, glaring at the back of his neck. Even as a superstar diva whose every movement captivated millions, she felt powerless against his indifference. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. Her grip around his waist tightened to a painful degree.

“Thank you for saving me back then, Van,” she said, her voice cracking. “If it weren't for you, I'd be dead a long time ago. But I didn't expect you to be married when I finally found you again.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, soaking into the heavy leather of his jacket. She openly lamented his marriage, her tone raw and desperate. “Why didn't you think of me back then? I'm more than willing to marry you.”

Vance squeezed the handbrakes. The bicycle tires screeched against the asphalt as he came to a sudden halt under the streetlight. He planted his feet on the ground, turning his head slightly to look back at her.

“Do you really think your father would agree with that?” Vance pointed out, his voice flat. “He despised me. He showed nothing but venomous disdain for me when I had nothing.”

Harper stepped off the back of the bike, her high heels clicking against the pavement. Her heart broke at the reminder of her father's past arrogance. She stood under the pale yellow light, crying softly. “He's already apologized for that.”

Vance remained silent, staring out into the dark street.

Harper wiped her wet cheeks, her chest heaving. Desperate and entirely heartbroken, she took a step toward him. “What kind of woman is she? I bet she must be amazing enough to catch your attention and loyalty.”

A genuinely warm, rare smile touched Vance's face as he looked up at the moon hanging in the night sky. The soft expression hurt Harper's chest more than any insult could have.

“She's gentle, elegant, and fiercely independent,” Vance described, his voice losing its icy edge. “She is smart, opinionated, and capable. Most importantly, she is calm and collected.”

Harper bit her bottom lip, her hands trembling at her sides. “Is she really that good?”

Vance let out a heavy sigh, the warm smile fading slightly. “She's not perfect. She has one singular, fatal flaw. She constantly prioritizes her toxic family above my own well-being. She cares about them more than she cares for me sometimes. I hate it.”

Harper stared at him, searching his stoic features. “Do you truly love her?”

Vance didn't hesitate for a single second. He looked away from the moon and met Harper's tear-filled eyes. “Yes, I do. She suits me the best.”

Hearing this, Harper's face flushed a deep, scarlet red. Staring at him with bursting, uncontrollable affection and sheer desperation, she reached into her expensive designer purse. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out a small plastic card.

“Van, are you going home tonight?” she asked timidly.

Vance frowned, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. “What do you mean?”

Harper held up the small piece of plastic in the dim light. “I brought my ID card,” she confessed, explicitly and shamelessly begging him. She stepped closer, closing the distance until her chest brushed against his arm. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with raw need. “I want you to take me to a nearby hotel room right now. I don't care about your marriage. I want you to strip me bare. I want your cock inside me tonight. Just give me one single night.”

Vance looked down at her. He clearly recognized her undeniable, world-class allure. Her skin was flawless, her curves pressed against him, offering everything a man could ever desire. Any other man on the planet would have fallen to their knees for such an opportunity. Yet, Vance remained loyal to his vows. His expression did not change.

“That's impossible,” he said, his voice carrying an undeniable finality. “Let's go home.”

Harper let out a long, shaky breath, defeated by his unyielding loyalty. She lowered her hand, tucking the ID card back into her purse.

Before she could speak again, Vance's phone rang loudly in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was Audrey. The timely phone call broke the heavy tension, finalizing his departure.

“I have to go home now,” Vance announced, answering the phone as he pushed the bike forward.

Harper nodded silently, stepping back into the shadows of the alleyway as they parted ways in the darkness.

Just as Vance pedaled away, a yellow taxi crawled down the dark street, its engine humming low. Bryce sat in the back seat, staring out the smudged window. He spotted the familiar, broad silhouette of Vance standing next to a stunning woman under the flickering streetlamp. Bryce pulled out his phone, rolling down the window to avoid the glass glare. He snapped a photo of the pair, the camera clicking softly in the cab.

Bryce zoomed in on the screen, admiring the mysterious woman's perfect figure hidden in the shadows. Her curves were undeniable, even in the poor lighting.

Chloe leaned over from the other side of the seat, glaring at the photo on his screen. She sneered dismissively, crossing her arms over her chest. “Women with such incredible bodies standing on street corners at midnight are likely just cheap prostitutes,” she snapped, her voice dripping with jealousy and contempt.

Approaching his residential neighborhood just before midnight, the cold air bit at Vance's exposed face. He pedaled up to his building, the rusted chain of the bicycle squeaking softly in the quiet night. He squeezed the brakes, bringing the bike to a halt near the entrance.

His eyes locked onto the sidewalk. Audrey stood outside in the freezing cold. She wore a thin coat, her arms crossed tight over her chest as she shivered in the wind.

To his immense irritation, Preston stood right beside her, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his expensive slacks.

Audrey spotted Vance instantly. She uncrossed her arms and marched up to him, her face tight with frantic anxiety. “Where did you get exactly one million dollars in clean cash?” she demanded immediately, skipping any form of greeting.

Vance stepped off the bike, letting the kickstand snap into place. He ignored Audrey's question entirely. Instead, he locked his eyes on the man standing behind her. Vance shot Preston a terrifying, murderous glare.

“This is the last warning from me,” Vance snarled, his voice dropping to a lethal octave. “Stay away from my wife!”

Preston merely smiled, shrugging his shoulders as if the death threat was a mild joke.

Vance broke eye contact with Preston and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out the crumpled, lipstick-stained tissue contract he had made Diana sign earlier that evening. He handed it to Audrey.

Audrey took the tissue, her brow furrowing in confusion. She unfolded it, her eyes scanning the messy handwriting and the bright red lipstick kiss at the bottom. Her jaw dropped. “You saved Diana Maxwell?”

“Yes,” Vance explained smoothly, unzipping his leather jacket. “She was about to drown in the river, and I saved her when I passed by. She didn't know how to swim. She gave me the cash as a token of deep appreciation for saving her life.”

Audrey let out a massive sigh, her rigid posture relaxing slightly. She was visibly relieved that the money was entirely clean and legal. “You shouldn't casually accept such massive, dangerous sums of money next time. It's too much.”

Vance nodded. “Her life is worth that much.”

Audrey pondered his words for a moment. Diana was a multi-billionaire; one million dollars meant absolutely nothing to a woman of her status. However, the relief was short-lived. Audrey's anxiety about their future quickly flared up again. She shoved the tissue into her coat pocket and glared at him.

“Have you thought about the type of job you're going to search for?” she pressed aggressively, her voice rising in pitch. “You need to find stable work to support this family.”

Vance ran a hand through his windblown hair. “No. I'll set that aside for now. I'm putting it off for a while.”

Audrey's agitation boiled over. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “No, you can't just put it off! You should be looking for a job right now!”

Seizing the vulnerable moment perfectly, Preston stepped forward, closing the distance between them. A smug, condescending smile spread across his face.

“Why don't you come work at my pharmaceutical company?” Preston interjected, his tone dripping with mock generosity. “I can offer you a lowly sales position. The yearly income is about a hundred thousand. It's honest work for someone with your... background.”

Audrey turned away from Vance. She looked up at Preston with profound, genuine gratitude shining in her eyes. She sincerely and desperately hoped Vance would swallow his foolish pride and accept the humiliating offer.