Skyscrapers and Starlight – The Dragon’s Daughter

By Lea von Löwenstein
Chapter 1: The Wedding Crasher
Part 1: Power Plays
The boardroom of Global Titan Construction hummed with tension, its floor-to-ceiling windows framing Manhattan’s skyline—half of which bore the company’s mark. Alexandra Chen, officially just a “strategic consultant,” sat quietly at the far end, watching chaos unfold.
“The Dubai project is hemorrhaging money!” Board Member Wilson slammed his fist on the mahogany table. “We’re down $300 million!”
“Then fire the incompetent project manager,” drawled Board Member Hayes, his Rolex glinting. “Some nobody from—where was it?”
Alexandra’s lips curved. “Harrison Construction.”
The room turned to her—the first words she’d spoken all meeting. Her father’s empire, and not one of them knew she was the heir.
“And you are?” Hayes sneered.
She tapped her tablet. The main screen flared to life, showing real-time project analytics. “The person who just saved you $600 million. Your project manager isn’t incompetent—he’s being sabotaged. By you.”
Gasps erupted as documents flashed across the screen: Hayes’s offshore accounts, kickbacks from competitors.
“Security will escort you out,” she said softly. “The FBI’s waiting downstairs.”
As Hayes was dragged away, her phone buzzed—her wedding planner: “Two hours until you marry James!”
Alexandra gathered her things, her Louboutins silent on the marble floor. “Meeting adjourned, gentlemen. Try not to bankrupt us while I’m gone.”
—
The Plaza Hotel’s garden terrace buzzed with pre-wedding activity. Alexandra slipped in through a service entrance, still in her power suit, her wedding dress waiting in a suite upstairs.
“Excuse me!” A deep voice called out. She turned to find a tall stranger in a rumpled tuxedo, his tie askew. “You work here?”
She arched a brow. “Do I look like I work here?”
“No, you look like salvation.” He ran a hand through dark hair. “I need to get married. Today. Now.”
Alexandra blinked. “Congratulations?”
“No, you don’t understand.” He glanced over his shoulder. “My parents are trying to force me to marry some corporate heiress for a merger. I’d rather marry a stranger than be their pawn.”
“And I look like a convenient stranger?”
His laugh was surprisingly warm. “You look like someone who understands running from expectations.” He extended his hand. “Marcus Drake, and I’m desperate enough to propose to a woman whose name I don’t know.”
She studied him—his eyes were kind, if haunted. “That’s a terrible proposal.”
“I’ll work on it. But first—your name?”
“Alex,” she said, using her nickname. “And I’m actually here for my own wedding, so…”
His face fell. “Of course. Sorry to—”
Part 2: Shattered Glass
Alexandra laughed, shaking her head at Marcus. “James would built his company from nothing.” Pride softened her voice. “Well, almost nothing.”
Marcus’s brow furrowed. “Almost?”
“Just a guardian angel with good timing.” She checked her phone—forty minutes until she became Mrs. James Harrison. “I should go change. Good luck with your arranged marriage escape plan.”
“Wait—” Marcus caught her arm. “Something’s wrong. Harrison Construction… they’re announcing a merger today.”
“What? No, that’s impossible. I would know if—”
“Alex!” James’s voice cut through the garden. She turned, smile blooming—then froze.
He stood at the terrace doors in his wedding tuxedo, arm wrapped around Victoria Blackwood, heir to Blackwood Construction. Her champagne gown—a wedding gown—sparkled in the sunlight.
“James?” Alexandra’s voice cracked. “What’s going on?”
His laugh was glass breaking. “I’m getting married today, Alex… just not to you.”
Victoria’s diamond ring—Alexandra’s ring—glinted as she stroked James’s tie. “Darling, is this the nobody who’s been stalking you?”
“The nobody who funded your empire,” Alexandra said, steel entering her voice. “Every contract, every bid, every ‘miracle’ loan—that was me.”
James snorted. “You? A consultant? Please. Victoria’s family opened those doors.”
“No.” Alexandra straightened, ice replacing the tears. “The daughter of Wei-Ming Chen, CEO of Global Titan Construction, opened those doors.”
Silence.
Then laughter—cruel, cutting laughter.
“Wei-Ming Chen’s daughter?” Victoria wiped her eyes, smearing perfect makeup. “That’s rich. Everyone knows she’s in Switzerland, darling. This one’s just desperate.”
James pulled Victoria closer. “I built Harrison Construction myself. And now, with the Blackwood merger, we’ll be unstoppable.” He smirked at Alexandra. “You can keep your pathetic fantasies.”
“The ceremony’s starting,” Victoria purred. “Shall we, my love?”
They swept past, leaving Alexandra standing in the wreckage of her dreams. Behind her, Marcus hadn’t moved.
“Switzerland, huh?” His voice was soft.
Alexandra turned, her mask cracking. “I think I’d like to revise my answer about that desperate proposal.”
Part 3: The Devil’s Contract
The Plaza’s service kitchen hummed with industrial silence, steel surfaces reflecting their broken expressions. Marcus loosened his tie, pulling a Mont Blanc pen from his pocket.
“Right. Terms.” His voice was businesslike, masking something softer. “I need a wife to escape my parents’ merger marriage. You need…” He gestured vaguely at the door where James had vanished.
“Revenge?” Alexandra’s laugh was hollow. “I was going to give him everything. The Chen fortune, Global Titan’s contracts—”
“Alex.” Marcus’s pen tapped the steel counter. “Let’s be clear. I don’t believe you’re Wei-Ming Chen’s daughter.”
She stilled. “Excuse me?”
“But—” He held up a hand as she opened her mouth to protest. “I believe you’re someone who just got publicly humiliated. So here’s my offer: One year marriage, five million dollars, mutual business support.”
Alexandra’s eyes flashed. “Keep your money.”
“What?”
“I said,” she stepped closer, her voice silk-wrapped steel, “keep your money. You need a wife? Fine. I’ll marry you. No payment, no contract.”
Marcus studied her, confusion warring with curiosity. “Why?”
“Because revenge isn’t about money.” She smiled, and it was beautiful and terrible. “It’s about making them choke on their laughter.”
He should’ve been worried by that smile. Instead, something protective stirred in his chest. Whoever she really was—delusional consultant or secret heiress—she’d been broken in front of him. And Marcus Drake protected what was his.
“Deal,” he said softly, pocketing the pen. “But when this blows up in our faces, remember—I tried to pay you.”
“When this blows up in their faces,” she corrected, “remember—I tried to tell you the truth.”
His hand found hers, warm and steady. “Ready to crash a wedding, almost-wife?”
Alexandra squeezed his fingers, her other hand clutching her phone—and the banking app that could destroy James’s empire with a single tap.
“Lead the way, almost-husband.”
Behind them, a kitchen worker’s phone buzzed with a news alert:
GLOBAL TITAN CONSTRUCTION HEIR RETURNS FROM SWITZERLAND
But they were already gone, racing toward chaos in designer shoes and revenge in their hearts.