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, her phone in the other, her brows drawn in the way they did when she was thinking too much. Something was on her mind. Something heavy. And Ryan had a sickening feeling he knew exactly what it was. It had been gnawing at his gut for weeks. Damien. He had overheard Sienna mention it in passing—how Chloe was preparing for a high-profile meeting with Damien Cross. Sienna had tried to sound indifferent, but Ryan had caught the flicker of resentment in her eyes. Jealousy. Their father had once again trusted Chloe with something significant, something that could change everything—while Sienna was left on the sidelines. Ryan ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. He had been preparing for this moment, rehearsing what to say and how to say it. He knew Chloe wouldn’t want to hear from him. She despised him—barely wanted to breathe the same air as him. But he couldn’t let her walk into this blind. And despite everything, despite the pain he had caused her, Ryan still wanted to protect her. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something more twisted, something he didn’t want to name. But the truth was, he knew exactly what kind of danger Chloe was stepping into. And despite her hatred for him, even though she would probably tell him to go to hell—he had to warn her. He saw it then—the way her shoulders tensed, the way her fingers tightened around the coffee cup. Her breath quickened. She was sensing something. Her instincts had always been sharp. She reached for her car key, her steps quickening, as if running from something - or someone. Until she felt a presence behind her. A shadow looming over her. She turned—and her gaze landed on him. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Her eyes widened slightly before narrowing into something colder. Then she finally broke the silence. “What are you doing here, Ryan? Are you following me?” “Yes… I mean no….no.” He stuttered. Something about her always made him feel like the ground beneath him wasn’t steady. His words failed him. His knees grew weak. His palms are sweaty. However, this was his chance and one he couldn’t afford to lose. “I need to talk to you.” Chloe scoffed, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.” Ryan felt something tighten in his chest. “Chloe, listen—” She picked up her pace again, walking toward her car. “Please.” His voice was lower this time. “It’s important.” She stopped but didn’t turn around. A sharp inhale. Her jaw clenched. Then finally, she spun to face him, her eyes burning with fury. “You lost the right to talk to me the second you chose her.” Ryan flinched. He deserved that. He could hear the hurt in her voice, and behind the fury in her eyes, he saw something else. Something raw. Pain. Anger. And beneath it all, a wound that hadn’t quite healed. He forced himself to meet her gaze. “This isn’t about Sienna.” Chloe let out a bitter laugh. “Then what is it about, Ryan? What?” “I know about Damien Cross” Ryan blurted. Chloe froze. For a moment, she didn’t move, her hand still hovering over the car door handle. Then, slowly, she turned to face him. “Everyone knows about Damien Cross.” Her voice was calm but edged with wariness. “What makes you different?” Ryan took a step forward, lowering his voice. Ryan clenched his jaw. “Not like I do.” He paused. “Chloe, Damien is powerful. Dangerous. He doesn’t make deals—he traps people in them. Once you step into his world, there’s no way out.” Something flickered in her gaze, but she quickly masked it. Ryan pressed on. “You think this is just another business negotiation, but it’s not. Damien doesn’t work like that. He doesn’t trust. He doesn’t play fair. And once he has leverage over you, he never lets go.” Chloe’s expression remained unreadable, but her eyes—those sharp, piercing eyes that had once looked at him with nothing but warmth—were laced with suspicion. Her gaze sharpened. “And how exactly do you know all this?” He hesitated. The truth was heavy on his tongue, but he couldn’t say it. Not yet. “I just do.” His voice was firm. “And you need to listen.” Chloe let out a dry, humourless laugh. “That’s not suspicious at all.” “Come on Chloe, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious.” She scoffed. “Ryan? You follow me around like a stalker—” “Chloe, please.” “And tie me down just to tell me this? Really?” “I’m telling you this because I care, not just about you but about Bennett Industries.” She let out a bitter laugh, her eyes flashing with something between fury and disbelief. “You don’t care about me or anything else, Ryan. You’re selfish. A self-centred son of a bitch.” Her words pierced him like a blunt dagger. She took a step back, gripping her car door. “I don’t need warnings from you, Ryan.” Her voice was as cold as ice. “Not anymore, now do me a favour and stay away from me.” Ryan knew she would say that. He had expected it. But it didn’t make it any easier to hear. As she slipped into her car and pulled the door shut, Ryan watched her go, his hands clenched into fists. He exhaled slowly, his pulse hammering. He had to be careful. If he told her too much too soon, she would shut down. But he had to find a way to make her listen. Because whether she realized it or not, Damien Cross was about to change her life. And not in the way she expected.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
Chloe sobbed in the front seat of her car, her fingers gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline. The heavy rain pelted the windshield, blurring the city lights into streaks of gold and silver. But none of it mattered. It was him. The man from the rooftop. The stranger she thought was nothing more than a fleeting mistake. It was Damien Cross. How could she have been so blind? She sat in silence only to be interrupted by the incessant buzzing of her phone. She glanced at the screen to see the caller. It was her father. James Bennett. For a brief second, she considered letting it ring, maybe even tossing the phone into the nearest trash can and driving off. But Chloe knew better. But ignoring him would only make things worse. With a reluctant sigh, she answered. “Hello.” Her father’s voice was cold and stern. “How did the meeting go?” Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat. “It went fine. I secured the deal. Our office should be in contact with Morelli soon.” A
"Where have you been?" A stern voice spoke from the shadows as Chloe stepped into her apartment. The room was dark except for the study lamp that dimly lit up. "How did you get in here?" she asked, her voice steady despite the unease creeping up on her. From the dark, a figure stepped forward. James Bennett adjusted the watch on his wrist, his expression blank. "Your doorman knows better than to question me." His tone was casual, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it. Chloe shut the door behind her, masking the irritation flickering across her face. "That doesn't answer my question." Her father merely smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And you didn't answer mine." She hesitated, debating whether to lie or to deflect. But she knew better. James Bennett didn't ask questions he didn't already know the answer to. She shut the door behind her. "I was out." "Out where?" Chloe met his gaze, refusing to look away. "I don't see how that's your concern.
Chloe rubbed her temples, trying to push back the lingering headache left by Damien's presence. "What do you want, Sienna?" she asked, settling into her chair. Sienna stood in front of her desk, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "You have some nerve, you know that?" Chloe exhaled, already tired of whatever fight Sienna was trying to pick. "What are you talking about?" "Oh, don't play dumb Chloe, you went to see Mom." Of course. Their father must have gone home and put up a fit, spinning the narrative in his favour. Chloe rolled her eyes. "Yes, I went to see Mom. And?" "And," Sienna paused, her expression hardening, "you shouldn't have." Chloe let out a sharp breath, a humourless laugh escaping her lips. "Where do you get off saying shit like that?" Her voice was edged with irritation now, the initial restraint slipping. Sienna's eyes flinched, and she stepped closer to the desk. "You think you can just waltz her back into our life like nothing happened? After all
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