"Girl what?" Yas screamed as she stared at me in shock. "I can't believe you're dating Damon.""Well neither can I. We were just fuck buddies and now we are in a fake relationship but no one knows that.""That's crazy but the way you're calm about it tells me you don't mind."I shrugged, fiddling with the edge of my sleeve. "I mean, it’s not terrible. Damon’s actually pretty decent to be around. Annoying, sure, but he’s not the worst fake boyfriend I could’ve ended up with."Yas raised an eyebrow, her mouth twitching into a knowing smirk. “Uh-huh. And how long until ‘fake’ starts feeling real? Because the way you’re talking about him doesn’t sound very fake to me.”I shot her a glare. “Don’t start. This is just a temporary arrangement to keep his mom happy and the press off his back. That’s it.”“Sure, sure.” Yas leaned back in her chair, her grin widening. “But let me ask you this: do you even know what you’re getting yourself into? Damon is, like, the definition of chaos.”“You thi
The next few weeks were a blur and before I knew it, I found myself wrapped in Damon's arms after a wild night together. To be honest we were sleeping frequently together. I ended up spending more time at his place as well.This morning, I woke up in his bed, his arms wrapped around me as sunlight streamed through the curtains. His steady breathing tickled my neck, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the warmth of his embrace. It felt… safe. Comfortable.But then reality came crashing back.I carefully untangled myself from his grip, slipping out of bed to avoid waking him. Pulling on one of his oversized shirts, I padded to the kitchen to make some coffee, my mind racing.What the hell was I doing? This was supposed to be a fake relationship. Just a mutually beneficial deal to keep people off our backs. But somewhere along the way, we’d started spending more time together—not just for show, but because it felt natural.I leaned against the counter, clutching my coffee mug, when Damo
I rolled out of bed and prepared for the morning. I would be meeting Michael in an hour. As I was about to make breakfast, I heard the sound of a car horn blaring outside. Walking over to the door, I met Michael standing there, clad in casual attire. What is he doing here?I froze for a moment, gripping the doorframe as I stared at Michael. Seeing him out of his usual sharp suits was disarming—jeans, a fitted sweater, and a leather jacket. It was a look that felt too personal, too... human. It's been a while; I almost forgot how handsome he was.“Good morning,” he said, his tone calm but with a hint of impatience. “Are you planning on inviting me in, or should we have our conversation on your doorstep?" I blinked, trying to compose myself. “Uh, good morning. What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the office." Michael raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Plans changed. I figured it would be more efficient to pick you up. Unless you’d rather drive separately and ri
The crisp air of Paris greeted us as we stepped off the plane, the city alive with its usual buzz of activity. The iconic skyline stretched in the distance, the Eiffel Tower standing tall against the soft hues of the morning sky. Michael, as always, was composed, his sharp gaze scanning the airport terminal as if he were already planning his next move. “Our car should be waiting outside,” he said, his tone all business. “Great,” I replied, adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder. I’d barely had time to take in the atmosphere when Michael’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out, his jaw tightening slightly as he read whatever was on the screen. “Problem?” I asked, trying not to sound too curious. “No,” he said curtly, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Just work. Let’s go."We exited the terminal to find a sleek black car waiting for us. A driver in a crisp suit stepped forward to open the door, and I slid in first, followed by Michael. The ride into the city was quiet, the t
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my suite, making the final adjustments to my outfit. For today’s important meeting, I had chosen a sleek, tailored navy pantsuit that exuded both confidence and professionalism. The blazer fit perfectly, its sharp lapels accentuating my posture, while the fitted trousers elongated my silhouette.Under the blazer, I wore a silky ivory blouse with a delicate neckline—just enough to add a touch of femininity without being overly formal. A thin gold necklace rested against my collarbone, paired with understated stud earrings that complemented the ensemble.My heels were classic black stilettos, polished to perfection, adding just the right amount of height to complete the look. I’d kept my makeup subtle but polished—neutral tones with a bold swipe of deep plum lipstick for a touch of drama. My hair was swept into a low, elegant bun, with a few soft strands framing my face.As I slipped my portfolio into my leather tote bag, I took one last loo
Michael's question caught me off guard, and I paused mid-step, turning to look at him. His expression was unreadable as usual, though there was a slight softness in his tone that wasn’t typical. “Something to eat?” I echoed, as if the words didn’t quite compute. “Yes,” he said simply, sliding his hands into his pockets. “You barely ate at breakfast, and the way you handled yourself today likely drained whatever energy you had left. It's almost 6pm."I hesitated, glancing around. Part of me wanted to retreat to my room and bury my face in a pillow, but another part—the part that couldn’t quite shake the tension from today’s meeting—was tempted by the idea of getting out, if only for a moment. “Are you suggesting we... have dinner together?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow. He gave a small shrug. “Call it whatever you want. Just an offer.” “Fine,” I said finally, letting out a breath. “But only because I could really use a glass of wine.” Michael’s lips twitched into the faintes
I groaned, burying my face in the pillow as the events of last night replayed in my mind like an unwelcome movie.What the hell was I thinking?I rolled over, staring at the ceiling as mortification washed over me. The wine, the conversation, leaning into Michael like that—it all felt like a bad dream, but I knew it wasn’t.“Ugh,” I muttered, covering my face with my hands. Of all the people to get tipsy and emotional around, it had to be him.The knock at the door startled me out of my self-pity. “Arya, it’s almost time for breakfast. Don’t make me come in there,” Michael’s voice called from the other side, calm but unmistakably firm.I froze, my heart skipping a beat. He sounds so normal. Did I imagine everything?“Coming!” I called out, scrambling to get up. My head throbbed slightly, a reminder of the wine I’d indulged in. I quickly threw on a robe, trying to focus on looking composed—even if I didn’t feel it.When I opened the door, Michael stood there, dressed impeccably in a da
The moment we were alone, I spun around to face Damon, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. “Did you plan this shit?” I snapped, my voice low but seething.Damon leaned casually against the wall, his hands in his pockets, looking infuriatingly smug. “Plan what, exactly?” he asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.“Oh, don’t play dumb with me,” I shot back, stepping closer to him. “You knew I’d be here. You knew I was on this trip. And then—” I gestured wildly, my words tumbling out in a frustrated rush. “You introduce me as your girlfriend in front of your dad and your grandpa? What the hell were you thinking?”Damon shrugged, completely unbothered. “I was thinking I saw an opportunity to make things interesting. Besides,” he added, his tone softer but no less infuriating, “it’s not like we haven’t played this game before. You’re already my fake girlfriend back home. What’s the harm in keeping up appearances here?”“The harm?” I echoed, incredulous. “The harm
I left Michael and by that time I was on my way home. It was evening time. I wasn’t far from my apartment when I felt it—a presence behind me. My pace quickened instinctively, but the footsteps behind me matched mine, steady and deliberate. I glanced over my shoulder, and my heart sank. Tony. He stepped out from the shadows, his eyes cold and predatory. My pulse quickened, and a wave of fear washed over me. "Tony," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "What are you doing here?" He smirked, a sinister glint in his eyes. "I heard you've been running your mouth about me, Arya. Getting Yasmeen’s family involved... Not a smart move." I took a step back, my mind racing. "Stay away from me." "Now, now," he said, closing the distance between us. "You should've stayed quiet. But you didn’t, did you? You had to ruin everything." Before I could react, he grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. I struggled, trying to pull away, but he was too strong. "Let me go!" I shouted, my vo
I sat frozen, staring at the door long after it closed behind him. My heart felt like it had been ripped from my chest, left beating somewhere on the other side. The silence in the kitchen was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision as I hugged myself, trying to hold in the sobs threatening to break free. But I couldn’t. The pain was too much, too raw. My shoulders shook as I cried, each tear falling like a piece of the life we had built together.Why did I wait so long to tell him?Why did I let fear control me?The questions circled in my mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. I couldn’t just sit here and drown in my own misery. I had to do something. I had to find him.Grabbing my coat from the back of the chair, I wiped my face hastily, though the tears continued to fall. My hands trembled as I fumble
"You seem distant," Michael said, his eyes searching mine as we sat together in the quiet of his kitchen, sipping our morning coffee. His voice was gentle but laced with concern.I looked down at the steam rising from my cup, avoiding his gaze. "I’m just... tired," I replied, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach my eyes. "Work’s been a lot lately."Michael frowned, clearly unconvinced. "Arya, I know you better than that. It’s not just work." He reached across the table, his hand warm as it covered mine. "What’s going on?"I hesitated, the words on the tip of my tongue, ready to spill out. Tell him. Be honest. But my mind flashed back to the elevator, to Damon’s kiss, and my chest tightened with guilt and confusion."I..." I started, then shook my head. "It’s nothing, really." I pulled my hand away, gripping the edge of the table as if it could anchor me. "Maybe I just need a little space to clear my head."Michael's eyes darkened slightly, a flicker of something—disappointment, may
I practically ran out of the elevator the second the doors opened, putting as much distance between me and Damon as possible. My heart was still racing, my lips still tingling from his kiss. Why did I kiss him back? The question replayed in my mind over and over as I forced myself to focus on the client meeting.I managed to get through it, delivering the pitch and discussing terms like nothing had happened, but I was on autopilot the entire time. The second it was over, I grabbed my things and headed home, needing to talk to someone—someone who wouldn’t judge me but would help me sort through this emotional chaos.Yasmeen was already lounging on the couch when I got home, a bowl of popcorn in her lap and a reality show playing on TV. She took one look at me and immediately knew something was up.“Oh no,” she said, setting the bowl aside. “What happened?”I dropped my bag and collapsed onto the couch beside her, burying my face in my hands. “You’re not going to believe this.”“Try me,
I pushed his hand off my waist, my breath quick and unsteady. “Get away from me, Damon,” I snapped, my voice trembling with barely contained anger.He didn’t move immediately, just stood there with that same infuriating smirk. “Why are you so worked up, Arya? I’m just—”“Just what?” I cut him off, my voice rising. “Just trying to manipulate me? Just playing your stupid mind games? You waltz back into my life like nothing happened, like you didn’t hurt me, like you didn’t laugh in my face when I told you how I felt!”Damon’s smirk vanished. I took a shaky step back, my fists clenched at my sides, every word pouring out like I had been holding it in for far too long. “You think you can just show up, say a few words, and I’ll fall at your feet again? Well, I won’t. I’m not that girl anymore.”“Arya—” he started, but I didn’t let him finish.“You broke me, Damon!” My voice cracked, and before I could stop myself, tears spilled down my cheeks. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to put
The day started off as ordinary as any other.I adjusted my blazer and smoothed down my skirt as I entered the sleek, glass-walled building just a few blocks from Michael’s company. The client meeting was supposed to be quick—discuss the details, finalize a proposal, and be out in no time. But life had a twisted sense of humor.As I stepped into the lobby, the soft hum of classical music playing through the speakers did little to calm my nerves. I pressed the button for the elevator, checking my phone for any last-minute updates from the client. Nothing. Good. One less thing to stress about.The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and I stepped inside, pressing the button for the 18th floor. Just as the doors were about to close, a hand slipped between them, forcing them back open.Of course. Life just couldn’t resist.Damon.My breath hitched as he stepped inside, looking as infuriatingly confident as ever in a perfectly tailored suit, his dark eyes locking onto mine the momen
Michael had been teasing me all day about a surprise, but I never imagined he’d pull off something like this.“Where are we going?” I asked as he held my hand, guiding me into the car. He simply smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. No answer. Just that maddening smirk.After a short drive, we pulled up to a small, private airstrip. My heart skipped. “Michael…” I started, but he shook his head, opening the door for me.“Trust me,” he whispered.A sleek, black helicopter waited for us, its blades slowly spinning. He helped me inside, buckled me in, and within moments, we were airborne. The city lights sparkled beneath us like a sea of stars, and I couldn’t help but gasp at the breathtaking view."Still think I’m predictable?” he whispered in my ear, his breath warm against my skin.“Not at all,” I laughed, my heart racing from the adrenaline and… well, from him.We landed atop a skyscraper, the rooftop transformed into an intimate dining space—just for us. A table for two, draped in wh
Michael and I found a moment of quiet in the chaos of our work. We sneaked away, away from the prying eyes and the pressures of our professional lives, finding a secluded spot where we could finally be ourselves. The tension between us had been building for so long, and now, away from everything, we finally had a chance to breathe. His hand brushed against mine as we stepped into the empty office, the door clicking shut behind us. It was only then that I allowed myself to fully look at him, my pulse racing at the sight of his focused expression, and the way his lips curved into a smile when our eyes met. “You’ve been on my mind all day,” he admitted, his voice low as he stepped closer. I could feel the heat radiating from him, his presence overwhelming and magnetic. “Yeah? I’ve been thinking about you too,” I whispered, before I leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was slow, exploratory, but deep, like we both needed to feel each other, to make up for all the time we had spent ap
Michael and I sat down talking about our past when the question about Damon came up."What was he to you?" He asked."We were fuck buddies."Michael’s hand froze midway through, bringing his coffee to his lips. His brows lifted slightly, but his expression remained calm, though I could see the flicker of something—curiosity? Jealousy?—flash in his eyes."Fuck buddies," he repeated, setting his cup down carefully. His voice was neutral, but there was a subtle tension beneath the surface. "And you thought it could be more?"I nodded, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "Yeah. I thought… I don’t know. I thought if I gave it time, maybe things would change between us." I let out a soft sigh, playing with the edge of my sleeve to avoid looking directly at him. "But they didn’t. Damon didn’t want anything more than... that."Michael leaned back, his eyes studying me closely. "And you wanted more.""Yeah," I admitted, biting my lip. "I wanted more. I wanted someone who saw me as more than just—" I