Chloe woke up, her head pounding like a bass drum as she slowly opened her eyes. Her mouth felt dry and her eyelids were very heavy. "Shit" she whispered trying to recall events of the night before, but everything still seemed like a blurred out memory. Chloe inhaled deeply thinking it was for the best.
As she twisted under the covers, her body opposed each movement. The sheets were luxurious, far too nice compared to the night she vaguely remembered. She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest as she buried her face in it and her heart began to race. What was she doing? this wasn't her bed, this wasn't her room and the faint scent of cologne on the pillows made her very much aware that she hadn't been alone all night. "What have you done Chloe?" she muttered. Losing her balance as she sat up too quickly, the hangover punishing her for it. Her dress - where was her dress?. She scanned the room, spotting her stillettos discarded near the door, her black silk dress draping over an armchair. Scrambling out of bed, she nearly tripped over on something - an empty bottle of macallan scotch. "seriously" she groaned in frustration, snatching up her clothes. She slipped into her dress, cursing under her breath as she fumbled with her zipper. Chloe headed for the door, yanking it open only to be slammed straight into a solid wall of muscle. Large arms gripped her waist - steadying her. A deep amused voice followed. "Whoa, easy there!" Chloe froze, slowly looking up. Her eyes met him. Tall. Broad shoulders. Sharp jawline. Piercing blue eyes. Touseled dark hair. And that smirk? Her stomach flipped. Chloe swallowed, loud enough to be heard. "YOU" she breathed. His smirk deepened. "Yes, me." Chloe pushed againt his chest. He didn't budge. "Move". "Well, good morning to you too," he said, his voice raspy and drawling. "I was wondering when you'd finally wake up.” Chloe's cheek burned with embarrassment, and she forcefully pulled away, ready to escape. "I....I need to go." She stuttered, barely audible. "Running off so soon?" he drawled. The smirk on his face widening as if this were all a joke to him. She squinted in disappointment, scolding herself in her head. "I said i need to go". She repeated, charging past him. "Don't be like that, we had a good time last night" he said, a mischievous smile creeping along his face. Chloe's steps paused, slowly turning around, "I don’t even remember much of it." She said as if disappointed. His expression shifted, as if being challenged. "Would you like me to remind you?" his voice low and seductive. The air between them thickened as his fingers found her chin, tilting her face up - just enough. He was close. Too close. His thumb traced her jaw, a featherlight touch that sent chills down her spine. He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, teasing the sensitive spot just below her ear. His hands slowly gliding down the back, complementing her silk dress, enveloping her into an uncertain feeling. Oh God No. Chloe's pulse skipped, stuttered then raced. For a split second, she hated how effortless he made this feel. How easily her body reacted, despite her brain screaming at her to GET OUT! There was something - a pull she didn’t want to acknowledge. But here she was fighting her own self. As if drawn back to her senses. She jerked back, slapping his hand away. “I said I need to go.” He let out a light chuckle. “So you’ve said” he grunted while taking a few steps back. He was enjoying this. Chloe scowled, snatching up her heels. “I’m leaving.” His smile didn’t falter, “I won’t stop you sweetheart.” Chloe shot him one last glare, hot enough to have burned through steel. She was upset, more with herself than with him. He gave her a nod as if approving of her walking away from him, and so she did. Damien’s POV Damien Cross leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching as Chloe stormed out of his penthouse like the room was on fire. Damn. She was a feisty one. He thought to himself. He smirked, shaking his head as the door swung shut behind her. That was fun. Women didn’t usually run from him. They lingered, stretched in his sheets, teased for another round. Chloe? She bolted like she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life. Damien exhaled through his mouth, pushing off the doorframe. He should leave it at that. A one-night stand was a one-night stand. No names, no attachments. But for some reason, he found himself walking back to the bed, his gaze flicking to the rumpled sheets where her body had been just minutes ago. His smirk deepened. “She doesn’t remember much, huh?” he muttered to himself, running a hand over his jaw. That’s a pity. Because last night? Last night had been unforgettable. He reached for the bottle of scotch she’d nearly sprained her ankle over, her red lipstick still visible on the lid, before taking a slow sip. His mind replayed the way her body had fit against his. The way she’d melted into his touch, the little sounds she made when— Damien stopped himself, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t remember. Because if she had, she wouldn’t have left so easily. But still, Something about her stuck. Not just the way she looked—golden skin against his white sheets, wild hair, lips slightly swollen from his kisses. It was the way she’d pushed him, defied him. The way she’d fought against her own reaction when he’d touched her again. That fight made things… fun. Damien downed the rest of his drink and set the glass aside. He had meetings, deals to close. He should be thinking about work, not some woman who ran out on him. But this wasn’t just any woman, and Damien knew that well. Damien reached for his phone, his fingers hesitated over the screen but only for a second. Then with a flick of his thumb, he pulled up a contact. A dial tone hummed in his ear. Once. Twice. “Hello” a breathless annoyed voice answered. Damien smirked. Leaning back in his chair. Bingo.!“Oh shit, oh shit” Chloe muttered under her breath, her steps unbalanced as she pushed open the gate of Damien’s penthouse. Last night was a mistake. Just a stupid impulsive mistake. She needed to get home. Needed to forget about what just happened. Needed to forget about him. But how could she? His voice? His touch? His scent? She could still feel him. Chloe shrugged, she shouldn’t be thinking about him. Her phone buzzed before she could gather her thoughts. She searched through her purse, cursing when she saw her sister’s name flashing. Sienna. Chloe let out a frustrated sigh. She didn’t want to hear her sister’s voice. She didn’t want to talk to her, but against her better judgment, she answered. “What?” She snapped. “Where are you?” Sienna’s voice was maddeningly composed. “You know you’re supposed to be here by now.” Chloe frowned. Her mind is still sluggish from the alcohol and exhaustion. “Here? Where’s here?” Sienna sighed. “At Dad’s Chloe. The meeting? You’re s
Chloe jolted upright, her breath ragged, her sweat-clung skin a testament to the turmoil brewing inside her. The darkness of her room enveloped her, the only sound heard was the steady thud of her heart against her chest. Her gaze fell upon the phone lying on the bedside table, its screen a cold, dark rectangle. As she stared at it, her chest tightened, the words echoing in her mind like a mantra: "See you soon, Chloe." The voice lingered, deep, dark, and dangerous, laced with an undercurrent she couldn't quite place. It wasn't the words themselves that unsettled her; it was the way he said them. Was it a promise, a warning, or a joke? Chloe pressed a hand against her chest, forcing herself to breathe through the panic crawling up her throat. The past few days had been a blur of anxiety and anticipation. Ryan's behaviour had grown increasingly erratic, and Sienna's presence seemed to fuel the tension. And then, there was the meeting with Damien Cross looming on the horizon, maki
Ryan Hastings had always been a man of contradictions. On the surface, he had it all—charm, good looks, and the effortless confidence of someone born into wealth. People gravitated toward him, drawn to the easy smirk and devil-may-care attitude he wore like a second skin. But beneath that polished exterior was a man at war with himself. A man burdened with choices that never seemed to align with the person he wanted to be. Chloe had once been his anchor. The one thing in his life that felt honest, untouched by the weight of his family name and the shadows that came with it. With her, he had been different—softer, maybe even better. And yet, he had ruined it. Ruined her. Ryan had never been the kind of man to dwell on regrets. At least, that was what he told himself. Yet, as he stood across the street watching Chloe step out of the coffee shop, the weight of his choices pressed against his chest like an iron fist. His gaze followed her as she moved, gripping a cup in one hand, h
Damien Cross stood on the balcony of his penthouse, a glass of whiskey in his hand, watching the city move beneath him.Even at this hour, it never truly slept. Streetlights bathed the wet pavement in gold, headlights cutting through the dark like fleeting streaks of fire. The distant hum of traffic and the occasional sharp blare of a hum blended into a steady rhythm.Damien loved watching the city in its element. It was his favourite nightly routine, but that wasn't what intrigued him. It was the people, from this height, people looked insignificant - tiny fleeting figures scurrying from one place to another, chasing things that didn't matter. Wealth, Power. Love. Illusions.He had long since discarded such notions.Power wasn't something one chased. It was something to be taken.Damien had spent his life mastering that truth, it was the foundation of everything he built. People, after all, were easy. They could be manipulated, moulded, controlled - so long as you understood what th
Chloe Bennett had never been the type to second guess herself. She was raised to be confident, to handle pressure the way her father did - without hesitation, without doubt.Every decision, every move she made had to be precise. Strategic. Flawless.That was the weight of being a Bennett. Now with the company resting in her hands, that weight had only grown heavier. She told herself she was ready. That she had worked too hard to question herself now. But doubt was a quiet, insidious thing. It crept in when she least expected it.Her upcoming meeting shouldn't have shaken her - she had faced worse or so she thought.Yet, as the hours drew close a tightness settled in her chest, one she couldn't quite shake.The rooftop of The Aurelius had always been her retreat. A quiet place, high above the chaos of her world, where she could breathe and think.Tonight, the soft hum of jazz music floated through the air, blending with the low murmur of conversation. The hotel was exclusive, reserved
Sienna leaned closer to the mirror, brushing another layer of mascara onto her thick lashes, then leaned back to inspect herself. “Perfect as always.” She whispers. Her reflection in the mirror was effortlessly poised. Brunette waves cascading over her shoulders. Her light brown eyes caught the soft morning light. There was always a natural elegance to her, from the delicate slope of her nose to the subtle pink in her cheeks, highlighting her high cheekbones and the caramel hue of her skin. “Chloe is so nervous about this meeting.” She said, her voice laced with the slightest bit of concern as she reached for her lip gloss. Ryan watched her from the bed, shirtless, his expression vague. His gaze trailed over the elegant curve of her back, the way she moved with practised grace. Sienna was beautiful, poised, everything a man like him would want. But as she spoke, all he could think about was how different she was from her sister. “How’s she holding up?” He asked, keeping
The Aurelius Hotel was bathed in golden morning light when Nina strolled in, carting two cups of coffee. Chloe sat on the couch, surrounded by papers, notes, and her laptop, a deep crease on her forehead as she muttered under her breath. “Good morning, Bennett Princess.” Nina teased, tossing a cup onto the table. “You look like you’re trying to solve world hunger.” Chloe groaned, rubbing her temples. “I feel like it.” “You’re overthinking.” Nina plopped down beside her. “It’s just a meeting.” Chloe shot her a look. “With Damien Cross.” Nina rolled her eyes. “Okay, can you stop saying his name like that?” “Like what?” Chloe raised her brows. “Like he’s some kind of fucking tyrant mafia… geez.” Chloe exhaled, leaning back. “It’s not just him. It’s my father. He’s counting on me to handle this, to prove that I can. But if I fail…” Her fingers tapped her keyboard. “I can’t fail.” Nina sipped her coffee, watching her. “You know, stressing about it isn’t going to help.
The door swung open and Chloe's breath stopped. She stared at the man at the doorway and let herself breathe. …..It was time. Ethan Graves stepped into the room. "Good morning, Miss Bennett," he said smoothly. "I'm Ethan Graves, lead negotiator for Cross Corp." Chloe exhaled, forcing herself to nod. "Good morning," she replied, her voice shaking. Ethan gave her a curt nod. "Mr. Cross will be with you shortly." She had spent so much time bracing herself for this meeting, for him, and yet, for some reason, her pulse hadn't settled. Instead, a strange anticipation lingered. The seconds stretched as they waited for Damien. Then, finally, the door opened again. Chloe's pulse slowed, just slightly. She put her hand on her chest, hoping to slow down her rapid breathing. A presence filled the room before she even looked up. His footsteps were slow and calculated. Strolling in like he owned the place. Well….he did. Chloe looked up and it felt like her lungs gave
The air around Damien and Chloe stilled for a moment. He rubbed his fingers on his chin as he spoke through the tension in the room.“There’s something you need to know,” He muttered.Chloe’s hands dropped from where they’d been folded across her chest. Her eyes didn’t narrow. Her jaw didn’t tense. She just nodded once, quiet and open.“Okay,” she said softly. “Tell me.”Damien opened his mouth. The words hovered on the edge of his breath, heavy and bitter, ready to bleed out.But before he could say a word his thoughts were interrupted by the ding of the doorbell.The sound snapped between them like a crack in the air.Chloe flinched slightly, then looked toward the door. “Hold that thought,” she murmured, already moving.Damien stayed frozen for a beat, hands still curled at his sides. His heart pounded—not from nerves, but from the universe’s timing. He exhaled slowly, trying to shake it off, and turned just in time to catch the soft glow of her phone lighting up on the table.Ther
Sienna knocked on the white oak door in front of her. She stood tall on the familiar porch she walked away from years ago.She remembered the memories she had on that porch.The flowers she and Chloe used to decorate the doors. The muddy puddles they splashed in splattered on the walls.But her thoughts were interrupted by the subtle creaking of the door opening. She looked up to see the face of the woman she hadn’t seen in years.She had aged well but her grace hadn’t faded one bit.Miranda Bennett stared at her daughter like she had seen a ghost.“Sienna,” she said shortly—almost a whisper.Sienna nodded her head in confirmation. “Mom.”A moment of silence settled between the two women. Sienna gripped the strap of her purse tightly as if this could make the situation any less real.“Come in sweetheart.” Miranda gestured into her home.Sienna stepped in carefully. Every move was slow and calculated.Her eyes scanned the living room. “I see you did some renovating.” She said, runnin
The rain hadn’t stopped. It tapped gently on the windows like a lullaby that never ended. Chloe blinked awake, still wrapped in her robe, the soft cotton sticking slightly to her skin from where her damp hair had soaked into the fabric during the night. The room was dim, lit only by the grey morning light that crept through half-closed curtains. Her eyes drifted to the nightstand. Her phone lay there, the memory of Sienna’s message creeping in. It was just a line but it was just enough to pull her out of whatever fragile place Damien had coaxed her into. Chloe exhaled, pushing the thought away like she had all night. Not now. Not yet. Because Damien was still there. Slouched in the armchair by the fireplace, his long frame folded into something almost boyish in sleep. One arm hung over the side, fingers twitching faintly like he was still fighting something in a dream. His wet clothes were gone—his jacket hung on the back of a chair, his shirt wrinkled on the floor ne
The rain came down in sheets, soaking Damien to the skin. He stood outside Chloe’s building, his hair plastered to his forehead, water dripping from his lashes, but he didn’t move from the buzzer.“Chloe,” he said again, his voice heavy, gravelly from the cold and everything else weighing on him. “Please.”The intercom clicked on. Her voice came through, cold as the air around him.“I said talk. You wanted to talk, so go ahead. I’m listening.”Damien closed his eyes, exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.“Not like this.”He looked up at the speaker box as if it were her face.“Not through this damn thing.”“Well, I don’t care. You can yell through the rain for all I care. Maybe next time, bring a phone. That way you’d know I’ve been trying to reach you.”His throat tightened. “I know.”He stepped back slightly, rain streaking down his face like tears. “I saw the messages. I’m sorry.”“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Damien.” She snapped.“I know that too.” He says quickly.There w
Damien couldn’t take his eyes off his brother as he stood in the doorway. His shoulders were broader, his face sharper, but the resemblance still ran deep in their blood. He looked tired but not broken.“Four years, huh?” came the deep, rough voice.“You got taller.” He said chucking.Damien pursed his lips, he shifted in his seat.“You got older.”Marcel let out a dry, bitter chuckle as he approached the chair opposite him.He settled into the chair, his body opposing every movement.“Yeah, prison tends to do that.”They sat in silence that said too much. Damien looked at his brother, and for a second, guilt flickered in his eyes.“I didn’t know if you’d see me,” Damien said.“Didn’t think you’d come,” Marcel replied, folding his arms. “But I figured Sebastian got to you.”Damien gave a small nod.“He said it was time.”“It was time years ago.” Marcel leaned forward, elbows on the table. “But I guess now that the family name is burning, you all remember who you left behind.”Damien s
The night felt colder after he left.Chloe hadn’t moved from the spot by the door. She stood there for what felt like forever, her fingers still curled around the edge of the doorknob, like if she let go, something in her would unravel.The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.Even the hum of the fridge or the occasional creak of the building felt distant. Like background noise in a world that had suddenly stopped making sense.Sebastian’s voice was still echoing in her mind.“You’re not what he needs.”“He might love you. But that doesn’t mean he’ll choose you.”She swallowed hard, the burn of humiliation and heartbreak crawling slowly up her throat. She had faced a lot in her life—more than most—but something about the way he’d spoken to her, the cold authority in his tone, made her feel small in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.Not weak.Just… uninvited. Like an outsider in a story, she thought she was part of.She walked slowly back toward the couch, Damien’s hoodie still wrapped
Chloe sat curled on the couch, wrapped in one of Damien’s oversized hoodies—the dark navy one that still smelled faintly like him. Her phone was clenched in her hand, the screen dim and lifeless. She hadn’t looked away from it in over an hour.She had called. Again. And again. And again.There were five missed calls. All from her.The last one was just twenty minutes ago.She hadn’t left another voicemail. What was the point? The first two had said enough. The second even ended with a weak laugh, one meant to cover the crack in her voice. She hated that she’d sounded needy. She hated even more that she was needy right now.Sighing, she unlocked the screen and stared at the call log. His name sat at the top like a ghost: Damien Cross.No returned call.No message.Not even a read receipt on the text she sent earlier. She opened it again:“Are we still on for tonight? Let me know when you’re close.”It was delivered. That was it.A lump formed in her throat. She tilted her head back aga
Ryan didn’t move. He couldn’t.Sebastian’s voice hung like a blade suspended inches from his throat.He couldn’t look away. He didn’t dare look at Damien either—who sat silently, watching like this had all been rehearsed. Because maybe it had.Sebastian stepped further into the room, every movement slow and scary. He didn’t rush. He didn’t need to.Ryan rose to his feet instinctively, but his legs felt unsteady. “You didn’t expect me, did you?” Sebastian asked, tilting his head like he was inspecting a bug beneath glass. “That’s Damien’s problem. He gives people hope they don’t deserve.”“Sebastian…” Ryan croaked, but even he didn’t know what he was trying to say. An apology? An explanation?Sebastian waved his hand. “Don’t embarrass yourself, Ryan. You’ve already done enough of that for a lifetime.”Ryan let out a sigh, his pulse ringing in his ears.“What’s the most important thing you were taught, Ryan?” Sebastian asked.Ryan’s voice came in low, almost a whisper.“That family is
Damien stood at the far end of the rooftop of CrossCorp wind cutting through his jacket as he lit a cigarette. He rarely smoked—but when he did, it meant something was gnawing at him. The city stretched out below in a blur of noise and colour, oblivious to the storm brewing within him.He didn’t flinch when he heard footsteps approaching from behind.“I thought you quit,” a familiar voice said.Damien turned his head slightly. Ethan stood there, hands in his coat pockets, looking every bit the calm centre Damien could never quite be.“I did,” Damien muttered, exhaling smoke. “Guess I’m backsliding.”“You should stop, smoking never looked good on you,” Ethan said.Damien shook his head slightly. “Took you long enough. I thought you’d finally left me to my family chaos.” “Well, ‘chaos’ is an understatement when it comes to your family. But luckily you’re a part of mine so I’ll keep you in check.”“Welcome back”. Damien said. A smile tugged at his lips.“It’s good to be back. Besides I