The soft click of his office door opening interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to see Victoria sauntering in, her movements deliberate and confident. Her high heels tapped rhythmically against the floor as she approached his desk, a sultry smile playing on her lips."So, for the past few weeks you seem to forget to call," Victoria said, her voice dripping with seduction. She stopped in front of his desk, placing her manicured hands on the polished surface and leaning in slightly.Zion's jaw tightened. He had hoped that their last encounter would have been the end of it, but here she was again, trying to worm her way back into his life. "Victoria, this is not a good time," he said, his tone firm and unyielding.Victoria's smile widened, undeterred by his cold reception. "Oh, Zion, don't be like that. I just missed our little…you know. Surely you can spare a few minutes?" She approached his deskZion leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "I need space, Victoria. W
Zion stood on the bustling street, his heart heavy with regret and frustration. He replayed the scene in his mind, cursing himself for letting Victoria get too close and for not reacting quickly enough to prevent Amy from seeing it. The pain in Amy's eyes haunted him, and he knew he needed to clear his head, to think of a way to make things right.He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the number he was looking for. With a deep breath, he dialed."Hey, Zavier," Zion said as soon as the line connected."Well, well, if it isn't the elusive Zion Petrakis," Zavier's voice came through, laced with a teasing tone. "I thought you'd gotten so busy with work that you'd forgotten your best buddy."Zion forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Can we hang out tonight?"There was a brief pause on the other end. "Okay. Looks like someone missed me," Zavier replied, his tone light but curious. "What's up, man?""I'll meet you at the club," Zion said, his v
"Amy, someone is here for you," her mother called from downstairs, breaking her concentration.Amy sighed, closing her laptop. She had been expecting the delivery of her belongings from Zion's house, but a part of her had hoped for something more—a gesture, an apology, anything to show that Zion cared enough to fight for her."…a minute please," she called back, taking a deep breath to steady herself before heading downstairs.As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she saw him standing there, looking as disheveled and uncertain as she felt. "Zion!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and something she couldn’t quite place.Zion’s eyes met hers, a mix of determination and desperation in his gaze. "Amy, please. I came to talk."She crossed her arms defensively. "So, where's my things?""Please come back home," Zion pleaded. "You know we need to stay married—that's what the lawyer said."Amy's jaw tightened. "If you want me to come home, then the house rules stand."Zion nodd
Zion had just finished his coffee and was about to head out when a sharp scream pierced through the quiet of the house.“Amy!” he called, his heart racing as he dashed up the stairs two steps at a time.He burst into the room to find her on the floor of the walk-in closet, her face twisted in pain. One of the shelves, once bolted firmly to the wall, now leaned awkwardly, its contents scattered across the floor. A heavy wooden panel had collapsed on her leg.“What the hell happened?” Zion demanded, dropping to his knees beside her.Amy gritted her teeth, trying to pull her leg free. “I don’t know… I just reached for a hanger, and it gave way.”“Don’t move,” Zion ordered, his voice low but firm. He leaned over, gripping the edge of the fallen shelf and lifting it with surprising ease. “Can you get your leg out now?”Amy nodded, wincing as she pulled her leg free. Zion pushed the shelf aside and immediately crouched down to examine her leg.“It doesn’t look broken, but it’s already swell
For the next two weeks, Zion stayed home, turning his usually packed schedule into one that revolved around Amy. Though she repeatedly insisted she didn’t need a “babysitter,” Zion brushed off her protests with the same calm determination that made him so infuriatingly Zion.“This is unnecessary,” Amy grumbled one morning as she sat on the couch, her leg propped up on a cushion while Zion adjusted the ice pack on her ankle. “I can take care of myself, you know.”“I’m sure you can,” Zion replied without looking at her, his tone infuriatingly even. “But humor me, will you?”Amy folded her arms and huffed, glaring at the ceiling. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the help—her swollen ankle was proof enough she needed it—but having Zion hovering over her, day in and day out, was another matter entirely.Despite her complaints, Zion was relentless in his care. He
Amy lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her fingers absentmindedly clutching the edge of the blanket. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, but no amount of warmth from the covers could lull her to sleep.She had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours, trying to convince herself that she could sleep without his presence beside her. It had become an unspoken reality—one she hated to admit.She sighed quietly, gazing at the empty space beside her. The bed suddenly felt too big, too cold, too unfamiliar.Then, the door creaks open.Amy held her breath, pretending to be asleep as she listened to the soft sounds of footsteps. The faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with something uniquely Zion’s filled the room as he approached the bed.Without a word, Zion peeled back the covers and slid in beside her, the bed dipping under his weight. He let out a long exhale, exhaustion laced in every breath as he shifted closer to her.Amy was still, frozen in place,
Zion was halfway through his cup of coffee when he heard it—the confident click-clack of stilettos echoing down the hallway. He lifted his eyes, and there she was.Amy.Wearing a sleek, curve-hugging corporate gown in charcoal grey, her hair pinned up in a way that exposed her long neck and delicate earrings. Zion blinked. Once. Twice.She looked like a boss, a queen, a walking distraction.The mug paused midair. His grip loosened for a fraction of a second. That’s all it took.SPLASH.A splash of hot coffee spilled straight down the front of his white shirt.“Sir! You just…” one of the maids exclaimed, rushing toward him with a napkin, gesturing at the growing stain.Zion groaned under his breath. “Damn it.”He dabbed at his chest with the napkin, clearly not amused.Amy walked in fully now, like she was gliding, her grin way too self-satisfied. She pulled out a chair beside him, placed her bag carefully on the floor, and crossed her legs with a casual confidence.“Someone got distrac
The tension between them was undeniable, lingering even after the presentation ended and the conference hall began to empty. Zion didn’t say a word during the ride back to the office, but Amy could feel it building. His silence wasn’t peace—it was pressure, and it was mounting.By the time they got into their shared office, Zion closed the door behind them with a soft click and leaned against it. Amy moved toward her desk like she hadn’t noticed, pretending to check her emails, but her fingers hovered above the keyboard.He finally spoke.“Have you met Lucio before?” His voice was calm, too calm, but his eyes didn’t match it. They were sharp—searching.Amy froze for a moment, then sighed. “Yes,” she said simply, not turning around. She didn’t want this dragged out. She didn’t want to look him in the eye.But that wasn’t enough for Zion.He pushed off the door, walked toward her, firm and deliberate.“Amy,” he said again, this time more firmly. “I want to hear all of it.”She started to
The room was quiet except for the rhythmic ticking of the clock and the occasional gust of wind brushing against the windowpane. The night was dimly lit by the soft golden glow of the bedside lamp, casting delicate shadows across the room. The sheets were soft beneath them, a delicate contrast to the storm of emotions pulsing in the air. Zion lay beside her, his fingers brushing gently over her arm, tracing invisible lines up to her shoulder. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss just below her ear—light, almost reverent. Amy’s breath hitched, her body tensing slightly at the contact before melting into it. "You’re trembling," he whispered against her skin, his voice hoarse with restraint. "Is it me... or the anticipation?" Amy didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Her eyes said enough—half-lidded, glassy, unsure whether to hold back or fall completely. Zion continued slowly, deliberately. He placed feather-light kisses along the curve of her neck, pausing at the base of her throat. His
The tension between them was undeniable, lingering even after the presentation ended and the conference hall began to empty. Zion didn’t say a word during the ride back to the office, but Amy could feel it building. His silence wasn’t peace—it was pressure, and it was mounting.By the time they got into their shared office, Zion closed the door behind them with a soft click and leaned against it. Amy moved toward her desk like she hadn’t noticed, pretending to check her emails, but her fingers hovered above the keyboard.He finally spoke.“Have you met Lucio before?” His voice was calm, too calm, but his eyes didn’t match it. They were sharp—searching.Amy froze for a moment, then sighed. “Yes,” she said simply, not turning around. She didn’t want this dragged out. She didn’t want to look him in the eye.But that wasn’t enough for Zion.He pushed off the door, walked toward her, firm and deliberate.“Amy,” he said again, this time more firmly. “I want to hear all of it.”She started to
Zion was halfway through his cup of coffee when he heard it—the confident click-clack of stilettos echoing down the hallway. He lifted his eyes, and there she was.Amy.Wearing a sleek, curve-hugging corporate gown in charcoal grey, her hair pinned up in a way that exposed her long neck and delicate earrings. Zion blinked. Once. Twice.She looked like a boss, a queen, a walking distraction.The mug paused midair. His grip loosened for a fraction of a second. That’s all it took.SPLASH.A splash of hot coffee spilled straight down the front of his white shirt.“Sir! You just…” one of the maids exclaimed, rushing toward him with a napkin, gesturing at the growing stain.Zion groaned under his breath. “Damn it.”He dabbed at his chest with the napkin, clearly not amused.Amy walked in fully now, like she was gliding, her grin way too self-satisfied. She pulled out a chair beside him, placed her bag carefully on the floor, and crossed her legs with a casual confidence.“Someone got distrac
Amy lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her fingers absentmindedly clutching the edge of the blanket. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, but no amount of warmth from the covers could lull her to sleep.She had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours, trying to convince herself that she could sleep without his presence beside her. It had become an unspoken reality—one she hated to admit.She sighed quietly, gazing at the empty space beside her. The bed suddenly felt too big, too cold, too unfamiliar.Then, the door creaks open.Amy held her breath, pretending to be asleep as she listened to the soft sounds of footsteps. The faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with something uniquely Zion’s filled the room as he approached the bed.Without a word, Zion peeled back the covers and slid in beside her, the bed dipping under his weight. He let out a long exhale, exhaustion laced in every breath as he shifted closer to her.Amy was still, frozen in place,
For the next two weeks, Zion stayed home, turning his usually packed schedule into one that revolved around Amy. Though she repeatedly insisted she didn’t need a “babysitter,” Zion brushed off her protests with the same calm determination that made him so infuriatingly Zion.“This is unnecessary,” Amy grumbled one morning as she sat on the couch, her leg propped up on a cushion while Zion adjusted the ice pack on her ankle. “I can take care of myself, you know.”“I’m sure you can,” Zion replied without looking at her, his tone infuriatingly even. “But humor me, will you?”Amy folded her arms and huffed, glaring at the ceiling. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the help—her swollen ankle was proof enough she needed it—but having Zion hovering over her, day in and day out, was another matter entirely.Despite her complaints, Zion was relentless in his care. He
Zion had just finished his coffee and was about to head out when a sharp scream pierced through the quiet of the house.“Amy!” he called, his heart racing as he dashed up the stairs two steps at a time.He burst into the room to find her on the floor of the walk-in closet, her face twisted in pain. One of the shelves, once bolted firmly to the wall, now leaned awkwardly, its contents scattered across the floor. A heavy wooden panel had collapsed on her leg.“What the hell happened?” Zion demanded, dropping to his knees beside her.Amy gritted her teeth, trying to pull her leg free. “I don’t know… I just reached for a hanger, and it gave way.”“Don’t move,” Zion ordered, his voice low but firm. He leaned over, gripping the edge of the fallen shelf and lifting it with surprising ease. “Can you get your leg out now?”Amy nodded, wincing as she pulled her leg free. Zion pushed the shelf aside and immediately crouched down to examine her leg.“It doesn’t look broken, but it’s already swell
"Amy, someone is here for you," her mother called from downstairs, breaking her concentration.Amy sighed, closing her laptop. She had been expecting the delivery of her belongings from Zion's house, but a part of her had hoped for something more—a gesture, an apology, anything to show that Zion cared enough to fight for her."…a minute please," she called back, taking a deep breath to steady herself before heading downstairs.As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she saw him standing there, looking as disheveled and uncertain as she felt. "Zion!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and something she couldn’t quite place.Zion’s eyes met hers, a mix of determination and desperation in his gaze. "Amy, please. I came to talk."She crossed her arms defensively. "So, where's my things?""Please come back home," Zion pleaded. "You know we need to stay married—that's what the lawyer said."Amy's jaw tightened. "If you want me to come home, then the house rules stand."Zion nodd
Zion stood on the bustling street, his heart heavy with regret and frustration. He replayed the scene in his mind, cursing himself for letting Victoria get too close and for not reacting quickly enough to prevent Amy from seeing it. The pain in Amy's eyes haunted him, and he knew he needed to clear his head, to think of a way to make things right.He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the number he was looking for. With a deep breath, he dialed."Hey, Zavier," Zion said as soon as the line connected."Well, well, if it isn't the elusive Zion Petrakis," Zavier's voice came through, laced with a teasing tone. "I thought you'd gotten so busy with work that you'd forgotten your best buddy."Zion forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Can we hang out tonight?"There was a brief pause on the other end. "Okay. Looks like someone missed me," Zavier replied, his tone light but curious. "What's up, man?""I'll meet you at the club," Zion said, his v
The soft click of his office door opening interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to see Victoria sauntering in, her movements deliberate and confident. Her high heels tapped rhythmically against the floor as she approached his desk, a sultry smile playing on her lips."So, for the past few weeks you seem to forget to call," Victoria said, her voice dripping with seduction. She stopped in front of his desk, placing her manicured hands on the polished surface and leaning in slightly.Zion's jaw tightened. He had hoped that their last encounter would have been the end of it, but here she was again, trying to worm her way back into his life. "Victoria, this is not a good time," he said, his tone firm and unyielding.Victoria's smile widened, undeterred by his cold reception. "Oh, Zion, don't be like that. I just missed our little…you know. Surely you can spare a few minutes?" She approached his deskZion leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "I need space, Victoria. W