The faint buzz of the jet engines hardly registered for Damien Sterling as he sat by himself in first class, gazing vacantly at the clouds. Reserving the ticket to Paris was spontaneous—perhaps even careless—but beneath it all, it seemed like his only option. Since Ava departed, a void within him had emerged that nothing could satisfy. Doesn't function. No late evenings. Not even acting. He convinced himself it was what was right, that allowing her to leave provided her the independence she required. Yet the reality was straightforward, distressing, and unavoidable—he adored herHis mind was haunted now by her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled when she discussed painting, and the solace of simply being close to her. He’d let fear win. Fear of being vulnerable, fear of turning into the man his father had been. And in the process, he’d lost her.At that moment, he found himself in Paris, wishing it wasn't too late.The city greeted him with its typical allure—slim, cobblestone roads,
The morning light rose gently over the Paris skyline, spreading a warm golden glow across the cobblestone alleys of Montmartre. A week had gone by since Damien arrived—seven still, emotionally charged days since he expressed his feelings to Ava And during that period, nothing had been simple. True to his promise, Damien didn't attempt to influence her, nor did he beg or implore. He didn't urge her for forgiveness or request that she return. He remained—steady, patient, and quietly resolute to demonstrate that his love for her was not a momentary announcement but something genuine.For Ava, her time in Paris was a bold decision. She had immersed herself in her creativity and her self-reliance, yet the remnants of their history continued to murmur in her mind. Damien's presence, in contrast, felt distinct this time—subtle and steady. He wasn't present to resolve issues with lofty speeches or grand gestures of love. Rather, he provided her with distance. He allowed her time. And graduall
Autumn had enveloped Paris like a gentle breath, casting a soft chill over the city that hinted at transformation. The warmth and hope that had previously enveloped Ava now seemed more remote, akin to a memory she struggled to hold onto. She had established a routine here—something dependable, something tranquil—but it seemed delicate, like a glass figure that could shatter if she exhaled too forcefully.Damien was still in Paris. He fulfilled his vow to remain, to be present. Even with him by her side, she felt the distance increasing, invisible yet significant. It wasn't something she could identify immediately—it appeared more like a slight change in the surroundings or a brief glimpse at the periphery of her sight.They would move around one another with ease, like two pieces that perfectly aligned Now, every moment seemed laced with hesitation. Unspoken words lingered, feelings hidden beneath the surface.
The smell of smoky coffee persisted, suggesting that Ava had not been successful in multitasking. In an attempt to capture the intermittent sunlight shining through her dirty apartment window, she held onto a paintbrush and a sputtering mug of coffee in hand. The unbalanced painting, made from reclaimed wood and old nails, was filled with vibrant hues, depicting a distressing scene of emotions that mirrored her current mental state.With a quiet sigh, she whispered, "Damn it," before moving the paintbrush aside. She couldn't get rid of it, the coffee akin to an oily residue stuck on the pot. She glanced at the clock, its hands ticklingly counting the precious minutes she couldn't afford to waste. The eviction notice, a white envelope with her name in threatening black ink, was placed on the untidy table as if to constantly remind her of her unstable financial situation.The artist Ava Rossi, who is gifted but still struggling, was facing the difficult reality of her chosen path. She w
Damien Sterling occupied his modern, towering office, the Manhattan skyline spreading out in front of him in a stunning display of illumination. The glass walls mirrored the atmosphere in the room, his reflection calm and composed as usual. A multimillion-dollar merger faced imminent failure due to an unexpected scandal at its center—one that prominently involved his name and Ava Rossi’s in the headlines.Damien exhaled softly, running his fingers through his neatly styled dark hair. He had managed scandals previously—speculations about cutthroat business tactics, corporate sabotage, and even murmurs regarding how he had obliterated rivals without a second thought. But this? A supposed whirlwind romance with a struggling artist he had only met once at a gala?This represented a fresh degree of absurdity.He sat in his office with glass walls, towering over the city skyline, fingers interlaced as he gazed at the newest headline illuminating his computer screen“Billionaire Bachelor Off
Ava gazed at her phone, her fingers tightly gripping it as if she could extract understanding from the device. Damien Sterling. Of everyone who might have called her, why did it have to be himHer mind raced. What could he possibly want? Surely, he wasn't calling to apologize for the fabricated gossip columns throwing her name into the spotlight? No, billionaires didn’t do that. They handled things on their terms, and she doubted he was any different.A knot tightened in her stomach. She needed to think, to breathe, but she was already suffocating under the weight of unpaid rent and now—this.Her phone buzzed again. Another call from Damien.Damien Sterling's voice echoed on the phone, making Ava's apartment feel even smaller than it had been before. He spoke with a casual, professional manner that contrasted sharply with the informal chatter they had during their galley event. He wasted no time in responding to greetings, straight to the point.She was left with a cold, fearful sound
Upon awakening the next day, Ava felt her heart race through her chest. She had slept very little, her mind replaying the events of the previous day, the shocking photo, phone call from Damien, this crazy proposal, and her unwise agreement. Her agreement with the devil has to be followed by a responsibility.Looking at the clock, its hands mockingly reminding her of her impending meeting with Damien. The time she had to prepare was less than an hour. She rushed to get dressed, then changed into her most presentable outfit , a plain black dress that she hope would strike a balance between professional and friendly. She applied a touch of makeup, more out of habit than vanity, then pulled her unruly red hair into a neat ponytail.While waiting for Damien's driver, she paced her small apartment with nervousness. Contrary to her expectations, she was completely unaware of what type of individual Damien Sterling would be during this meeting. She had met him just once, at the gala, and thei
A thick packet of legal terminology was sent by a courier with discreet efficiency and arrived later that day. While sitting on a broken couch with some hot tea, Ava felt tense as she read aloud from one side of the page. This voluminous document was filled with clauses and sub-clauses that were designed to intimidate. Ava's artistic talents were overshadowed by her practical nature. She carefully analyzed every paragraph, pinpointing crucial points, and clarified any confusion by making numerous phone calls to a friend who works as an attorney.Damien had fulfilled his commitments. They were so generous, bordering on luxury in terms of their finances. A struggling artist's dream came true with a monthly allowance that was much higher than her previous income, access to upscale studios in prestigious art districts, and seemingly unlimited supplies. Yet, a nagging unease lingered. Neither a donation nor a stipend; this was an exchange for her part in ill-advised deception.Their fake e
Autumn had enveloped Paris like a gentle breath, casting a soft chill over the city that hinted at transformation. The warmth and hope that had previously enveloped Ava now seemed more remote, akin to a memory she struggled to hold onto. She had established a routine here—something dependable, something tranquil—but it seemed delicate, like a glass figure that could shatter if she exhaled too forcefully.Damien was still in Paris. He fulfilled his vow to remain, to be present. Even with him by her side, she felt the distance increasing, invisible yet significant. It wasn't something she could identify immediately—it appeared more like a slight change in the surroundings or a brief glimpse at the periphery of her sight.They would move around one another with ease, like two pieces that perfectly aligned Now, every moment seemed laced with hesitation. Unspoken words lingered, feelings hidden beneath the surface.
The morning light rose gently over the Paris skyline, spreading a warm golden glow across the cobblestone alleys of Montmartre. A week had gone by since Damien arrived—seven still, emotionally charged days since he expressed his feelings to Ava And during that period, nothing had been simple. True to his promise, Damien didn't attempt to influence her, nor did he beg or implore. He didn't urge her for forgiveness or request that she return. He remained—steady, patient, and quietly resolute to demonstrate that his love for her was not a momentary announcement but something genuine.For Ava, her time in Paris was a bold decision. She had immersed herself in her creativity and her self-reliance, yet the remnants of their history continued to murmur in her mind. Damien's presence, in contrast, felt distinct this time—subtle and steady. He wasn't present to resolve issues with lofty speeches or grand gestures of love. Rather, he provided her with distance. He allowed her time. And graduall
The faint buzz of the jet engines hardly registered for Damien Sterling as he sat by himself in first class, gazing vacantly at the clouds. Reserving the ticket to Paris was spontaneous—perhaps even careless—but beneath it all, it seemed like his only option. Since Ava departed, a void within him had emerged that nothing could satisfy. Doesn't function. No late evenings. Not even acting. He convinced himself it was what was right, that allowing her to leave provided her the independence she required. Yet the reality was straightforward, distressing, and unavoidable—he adored herHis mind was haunted now by her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled when she discussed painting, and the solace of simply being close to her. He’d let fear win. Fear of being vulnerable, fear of turning into the man his father had been. And in the process, he’d lost her.At that moment, he found himself in Paris, wishing it wasn't too late.The city greeted him with its typical allure—slim, cobblestone roads,
The skyline of New York extended infinitely past the lofty glass windows of Damien Sterling's penthouse workspace. The setting sun poured golden light throughout the city, radiating a warm brightness over steel and stone. Yet within the shining confines of his office, there was no comfort. Documents crowded his mahogany desk, the specifics blending into one another as his distracted stare wandered over them. The only noise was the unyielding, regular tick of the wall clock—recording time he no longer sensed a bond with.Since Ava’s departure, Damien had thrown himself into work with a desperation that teetered on self-destruction. Days bled into nights, and the difference between Monday and Saturday blurred until they meant nothing at all. He buried himself in endless meetings, intricate deals, and strategic calls, as if the right business win could somehow fill the space she’d left behind. To outsiders, he was more driven than ever—some applauded him, others whispered concerns. But n
The soft murmur of dialogue filled the vast area of the Maxwell Art Gallery, blending with the sounds of clinking glasses and the delicate tunes of nearby string instruments. Lights highlighted the shining marble floors, highlighting masterpieces that decorated the bright white walls—each a reflection of the artist's spiritDamien positioned himself at the doorway, his tall figure clad in a tailored coat, as his gaze scanned the room with a focus that revealed his typically composed demeanor. He hadn't intended to arrive late—hadn't even thought of attending at all. But something—instinct, maybe, or regret—had dragged him from his office straight here the moment he learned about the exhibition. Ava’s exhibition.Upon his arrival, the aroma of wet paint and old timber surrounded him. The area was a balanced fusion of contemporary minimalism and timeless allure, enabling Ava's pieces to capture complete focus. Visitors strolled with wine glasses in hand, stopping to appreciate the artwo
After Ava walked away from Damien’s penthouse, her world became a blur of tangled emotions. A constant heaviness clung to her, sorrow wrapping itself around her heart like a second skin. Beneath the sadness simmered quiet anger—frustration that sometimes felt directionless. But above all, there was the aching hollowness, a void that slowly crept into her soul and refused to leave.She began getting up earlier than normal, consistently before the city’s rhythm. As the streets remained in deep sleep, Ava would quietly step into the crisp morning air, making her way to her studio. As she entered, the recognizable aroma of turpentine and unpainted canvas felt grounding to her—similar to an anchor. It was in that place, enveloped by paint and quiet, that she toiled tirelessly. Her art became louder, rawer, pulsing with emotion. Every brushstroke carried a piece of her she didn’t have the strength to speak aloud.Izzy noticed the shift almost immediately. She began checking in more often, d
The early rays of dawn quietly trickled through the delicate drapes of the penthouse, lighting the space in a warm golden tint. Ava moved, slowly becoming more conscious of the warmth all about her. Her cheek on Damien's chest. Damien's heart pounded firmly against her cheek, and his arm clasped her securely, as if he feared to release her even while asleepShe remained in that position for some time, absorbed in a feeling of safety she hadn't felt in ages. His calm, soothing heartbeat implied that all could be wellLast night flooded back in bright recollections: the cautious caresses, the soft whispers exchanged in the shadows, and the barriers they had ultimately allowed to collapse. It hadn’t just been about passion. It had felt like something deeper—something that came from the heart, not just the body. Like their souls had finally met without pretense.She shifted slightly, her eyes tracing the shape of Damien’s face. In slumber, he appeared so changed—gentle, nearly serene. She
From her position near the expansive window, Ava watched the city lights twinkle like celestial bodies in the distance. The restaurant fight with Damien continued to haunt her as she felt the persistent pain of their disagreement. Ava lost herself in her work as she tried to find comfort through the predictable flow of her daily tasks while believing that constant activity would heal the deep sadness inside her.But Damien had a way of showing up. Not always physically—though sometimes that too—but in the little things: in the scent of coffee brewed just how she liked it, waiting for her in the kitchen even when he wasn't home; the lingering glances when their paths crossed at home, eyes filled with a thousand things he never said.Ava attempted to ignore it. She aimed to remain emotionally indifferent to maintain the appearance of a relationship based on practicality and mutual benefits. However, with every moment they shared, each unexpressed feeling, every subtle gesture, every occ
Ava sat quietly at the kitchen island, her mind racing with silent ideas, her fingers casually following the rim of her coffee mug. A tempest of bewilderment and desire was sparked inside her by Damien's passionate kiss at the exhibition, which stuck to her memory like a haunting melody. She felt confused and uneasy as a jumble of feelings, including rage, love, and frustration, twisted together. However, Damien had turned inside, his quiet a barrier she was unable to break through.However, Ava knew she couldn't allow silence to prevail. She had to confront the storm.In his study, she found Damien, buried in papers, looking calmly detached. But the tension in his posture showed the conflict simmering behind his composed exterior."Damien," she muttered.He looked up, a flash of panic briefly obvious in his eyes before they were obscured by his usual lack of attention."Ava. Why have you come here?Leaning against the door as though to brace herself, Ava shut it behind her. "The kiss