If Iâd ever doubted Damienâs ability to perform under pressure, that doubt evaporated the moment he extended the bouquet toward my mom.âFor the most beautiful woman in the room,â he said with a megawatt smile that could sell toothpaste to a shark.My mom blinked. Then blinked again. Then did the thing where she tilted her head slightly and raised her eyebrows in that âokay, Iâm listeningâ kind of way.âYouâre charming,â she said, eyeing the bouquet before taking it. âDangerously so.ââI try,â Damien replied smoothly, removing his suit jacket like heâd done it a hundred times in this very hallwayâwhich, knowing him, maybe he had. He was that kind of guy. Effortless.I gave him a warning glance over my shoulder as I walked back to the kitchen. âDonât lay it on too thick.âHe winked. âWouldnât dream of it.âDinner was already filling the penthouse with the comforting scent of garlic, herbs, and butter. My mom placed the flowers in a vaseâbecause yes, apparently this place had vases just
EvelynWaking up in Damienâs arms was⊠not part of the plan.And yet, here we were.Somewhere between my REM cycle and existential crisis, Iâd apparently decided his chest was my new pillow. His arm was snug around my waist, and one of his legsâhis legs, peopleâwas tangled with mine.I blinked at the ceiling in silence.God, he smells good.No. Nope. Brain, donât do this. Weâre not doing this today. Heâs my boss. A fake boyfriend. A relationship prop with very nice arms. Thatâs it.I carefully, very carefully, tried to wiggle away like some kind of stealthy ninja.Damien grumbled in his sleep and tightened his hold.I froze. My soul left my body. For a second, I thought he might kiss me in his sleep and Iâd have to legally commit arson just to escape the situation.But after a beat, he relaxed again, and I used that window of mercy to scoot to the edge of the bed like it had grown lava.Freedom.I slipped into the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and gave myself a pep talk in
Later that evening, the weight of the message still hung heavy in my chest.âE.âIt was just a single letter, but it had shaken something loose inside meâa distant memory, a flicker of something unresolved. I kept trying to brush it off, tell myself it was nothing, maybe a prank or an old contact resurfacing with the worst timing imaginable. But deep down, I knew better.Still, I needed a moment to breathe. A break from pretending. From questions. From my spinning thoughts.So, I pushed the message out of my mind, tucked it into the mental box labeled âDo Not Open Unless Necessaryâ, and did what I shouldâve done weeks agoâI called my dad.The phone rang twice before I heard his voice, gruff but familiar. âEvelyn?ââHi, Dad,â I said, the word catching slightly in my throat. âItâs me.âThere was a pause, long enough for guilt to twist inside my stomach. Then a heavy sigh came through the line. âTook you long enough.ââI know,â I whispered. âIâm sorry. Iâve been⊠all over the place latel
After getting back from the bus station, I went straight to my room to start moving my things back from his. This back-and-forth has kept my mind occupied, stopping it from wandering to thoughts of who E really is. after finish rearranging my room,I sat on the edge of the bed, the afternoon sun light casting long shadows across the room. The message from âEâ still lingered in my mind, a haunting echo that refused to fade. I picked up my phone again, staring at the screen. The message was there, but something was offâthere was no number attached. Just the letter âEâ and the cryptic words that had unsettled me.My heart dropped. No number meant no trace, no way to identify the sender. It was as if the message had materialized from thin air, a ghost from my past reaching out to remind me of things Iâd rather forget.I scrolled through my old contacts, biting my lip as I searched for any âEâ that could be the culprit. Emma? Eric? Both names stared back at me, each carrying its own set of
Damien povI couldnât sleep that night. Not with the sound of her voice echoing in my headâquiet, shaking, broken.âGo away, Damien.âI knew Iâd screwed up the moment she slammed the bedroom door in my face.The sound echoed through the penthouse like a final sentence, and I stood thereâpalm against the woodâfeeling like the world had tilted sideways. Iâd accused her of orchestrating some elaborate scheme, dragging me into this mess just to escape her past. I even brought up Eric, that smug bastard from the fintech forum.God, what had I been thinking?I ran both hands through my hair, pacing the hallway like a man without a plan. I had to fix this. I wanted to fix this. But I couldnât bulldoze my way inâI had to earn back her trust one small step at a time.And so I did. I walked away like she asked, but every cell in my body screamed at me to turn around. To pound on the door again. To make her listen. To explain.But she didnât want explanations. She wanted space.I sat on the couc
Evelyn povIâm not the type of person who easily lets others in. Itâs been that way for as long as I can remember. After everything with Eric, I built walls so high that no one could see the real me, and I swore Iâd never let myself feel that vulnerable again.But something about Damien⊠something about the way heâs been showing up these past few days has been shaking those walls, brick by brick. It scares the hell out of me.Iâm not sure what to do with these feelings. I canât even recognize them anymore. Every time I think Iâve gotten a grip on my emotions, every time I convince myself to keep him at armâs length, he does something elseâsomething small, something thoughtfulâthat pulls me closer.Like when he showed up unannounced last week with my coffee blend, leaving a note with just a simple, âFor peace, and your heart. â D.âOr the way heâs been learning my recipes, helping me prep when Iâve been overwhelmed, or how heâs been asking about my business like he actually cares. I kn
The kitchen was unusually quiet. Even the familiar hum of the refrigerator sounded louder than usual, filling the silence left behind by the conversations I didnât want to have. I stood at the marble counter, carefully arranging the last of the mini pastries Iâd baked for the catering contract Damien had helped me land.The client had been thrilledâeffusive with praise and delighted by the presentation. Sheâd even mentioned wanting to recommend me to a few corporate clients. On any other day, Iâd have been ecstatic. I should have been celebrating. But instead, a hollow ache curled itself around my ribs, tugging with every breath.I tried not to let it show. I busied myself by fixing a ribbon around one of the platters, smoothing out the creases like it was the only thing that needed fixing.Since that night, since the argument that left me emotionally shredded, Damien had been⊠different. Not cold exactly. Just restrained. His usual warmth, the sly glint in his eyes, the playful touch
âThis just came for Evelyn,â the man said, handing the bouquet over with a forced smile before leaving just as quickly.My stomach twisted. Damien reached for the envelope tucked among the stems and handed it to me wordlessly. I opened it with trembling fingers.The card was plain. No logo. No handwriting I recognized.Just three words, elegantly scripted in dark ink:From yours, beloved E.I stared at the words, a cold shiver running down my spine.âThey know,â I whispered. âWhoever this is⊠theyâre watching me. Us.âI expected Damien to explode. To start pacing or pointing fingers or getting angry all over again. But he didnât. Not this time.Instead, he stepped closer and gently took the card from my hand. He looked at it once, jaw tight, then looked at me. But his eyes held something softer than fear.âI wonât let anything happen to you, Evelyn,â he said, voice steady. âWhoever this isâwhatever theyâre trying to doâweâll face it together.âI blinked, surprised by the calm in his t
Evelyn povThe restaurant was one of those places you donât find unless someone wants you to. Tucked between rows of elite boutiques and imported wine bars, it was all low lighting, pressed linens, and whispering waiters. I shouldâve felt proud. Accomplished, even. Instead, my skin buzzed with an unease I couldnât quite name.Damian had surprised me at the mentorship kitchen that evening, walking in like he belonged in every roomâeven the ones meant for me. I didnât mind, not really. At first, I thought he came to support me. But over dinner, I started to wonder if he came to stake a claim.Heâd been quiet since we sat down. Not in the way people are when theyâre tired or content. It was the kind of silence that hangs off every movement. His eyes darted between me and my phone, lingered too long on my wrist where Chef Marcellus had also my complimented bracelet and of my dishes. Pride lingered in his gaze, but so did something sharper.I tried to laugh it off. âYouâre quiet tonight. D
POV: Evelyn They say healing comes in waves. Mine came in chaosâcryptic messages, my ex boyfriend lies, and a man I never meant to fall for.It started with a trap. Damian and I, cornered by secrets and shadows, devised a plan to catch the ghost who had been haunting meââE.âEven now, the memory makes my chest tighten. We whispered code words in hushed voices, mapped out decoy routes, and layered truth with just enough fiction to bait someone clever enough to stay hidden for weeks I remember how shaky my hands felt as I tied my shoelaces the morning it all began. I remember the taste of fear on my tongue, bitter and stubborn.I never expected the enemy to come from my past⊠from Cold Spring, where Iâd spent my life trying to be invisible. E was someone I barely rememberedâa former coworker from the diner. She always had something in her eyes when she looked at me. Envy, maybe. Or hatred. Maybe both. Apparently, Iâd shined too quietly for her liking.just few days before we caught her
Damien povThe morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the Montgomery estate, casting a golden hue over the manicured gardens. I stood on the balcony, my gaze fixed on the figure below. Evelyn was in the garden, her hands gently tending to the roses, her movements deliberate yet distant.I watched as she paused, her shoulders slumping slightly, a silent sigh escaping her lips. The weight of recent events was evident in her posture. The anonymous notes, the public scrutiny, and the complexities of our arrangement were taking a toll on her.Descending the staircase, I made my way to the garden. The scent of blooming flowers greeted me, a stark contrast to the tension that lingered in the air.âEvelyn,â I called softly.She turned, her eyes meeting mine. There was a vulnerability in her gaze that I hadnât seen before.âI thought some time in the garden might help clear my mind,â she said, her voice barely above a whisper.I nodded, stepping closer. âItâs a beautiful morning.âSh
Evelyn povThe night air at the Montgomery estate was cool, but it did nothing to settle the heat rising in my chest.The engagement party was over. The guests had filtered out, their designer perfumes lingering in the air like ghosts of expectations. But my thoughts were louder than any violin melody weâd faked smiles to during the evening.The massive oak doors to the ballroom shut behind us with a soft, resounding thud, but the silence between me and Damian? That was deafening.I stood at the foot of the grand staircase, clutching my clutch too tightly as I turned to him. âAre we going to talk about this?âHis eyes flickered to me for a split second, then away again. âAbout what?ââAbout us, Damian.âHe loosened his bow tie with one hand and sighed as though Iâd just asked him to solve global warming with a toothpick. âEvelyn, weâve had a long night.âI stepped in front of him, blocking his path toward the hallway. âExactly. A long night of pretending to be engaged. A long night of
(Damienâs POV)The Montgomery estate loomed ahead, a testament to centuries of wealth and power. Nestled amidst rolling vineyards and ancient oaks, the mansion was a harmonious blend of medieval fortitude and refined luxury. Its stone turrets reached skyward, while ivy-clad walls whispered tales of generations past. The estateâs grandeur was both awe-inspiring and suffocatingâa perfect stage for the spectacle my mother had orchestrated.Evelyn sat beside me in the car, her gaze fixed on the winding driveway. She wore a navy-blue dress that complemented her complexion, but her posture was tense, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The recent anonymous messages had unsettled her, and the impending engagement announcement only added to her unease.As we stepped out, the estateâs staff lined the entrance, their expressions a practiced blend of warmth and deference. Leading the welcoming committee was Uncle Anthony, whose leering smile made my skin crawl. Beside him stood Cousin Miranda
âThis just came for Evelyn,â the man said, handing the bouquet over with a forced smile before leaving just as quickly.My stomach twisted. Damien reached for the envelope tucked among the stems and handed it to me wordlessly. I opened it with trembling fingers.The card was plain. No logo. No handwriting I recognized.Just three words, elegantly scripted in dark ink:From yours, beloved E.I stared at the words, a cold shiver running down my spine.âThey know,â I whispered. âWhoever this is⊠theyâre watching me. Us.âI expected Damien to explode. To start pacing or pointing fingers or getting angry all over again. But he didnât. Not this time.Instead, he stepped closer and gently took the card from my hand. He looked at it once, jaw tight, then looked at me. But his eyes held something softer than fear.âI wonât let anything happen to you, Evelyn,â he said, voice steady. âWhoever this isâwhatever theyâre trying to doâweâll face it together.âI blinked, surprised by the calm in his t
The kitchen was unusually quiet. Even the familiar hum of the refrigerator sounded louder than usual, filling the silence left behind by the conversations I didnât want to have. I stood at the marble counter, carefully arranging the last of the mini pastries Iâd baked for the catering contract Damien had helped me land.The client had been thrilledâeffusive with praise and delighted by the presentation. Sheâd even mentioned wanting to recommend me to a few corporate clients. On any other day, Iâd have been ecstatic. I should have been celebrating. But instead, a hollow ache curled itself around my ribs, tugging with every breath.I tried not to let it show. I busied myself by fixing a ribbon around one of the platters, smoothing out the creases like it was the only thing that needed fixing.Since that night, since the argument that left me emotionally shredded, Damien had been⊠different. Not cold exactly. Just restrained. His usual warmth, the sly glint in his eyes, the playful touch
Evelyn povIâm not the type of person who easily lets others in. Itâs been that way for as long as I can remember. After everything with Eric, I built walls so high that no one could see the real me, and I swore Iâd never let myself feel that vulnerable again.But something about Damien⊠something about the way heâs been showing up these past few days has been shaking those walls, brick by brick. It scares the hell out of me.Iâm not sure what to do with these feelings. I canât even recognize them anymore. Every time I think Iâve gotten a grip on my emotions, every time I convince myself to keep him at armâs length, he does something elseâsomething small, something thoughtfulâthat pulls me closer.Like when he showed up unannounced last week with my coffee blend, leaving a note with just a simple, âFor peace, and your heart. â D.âOr the way heâs been learning my recipes, helping me prep when Iâve been overwhelmed, or how heâs been asking about my business like he actually cares. I kn
Damien povI couldnât sleep that night. Not with the sound of her voice echoing in my headâquiet, shaking, broken.âGo away, Damien.âI knew Iâd screwed up the moment she slammed the bedroom door in my face.The sound echoed through the penthouse like a final sentence, and I stood thereâpalm against the woodâfeeling like the world had tilted sideways. Iâd accused her of orchestrating some elaborate scheme, dragging me into this mess just to escape her past. I even brought up Eric, that smug bastard from the fintech forum.God, what had I been thinking?I ran both hands through my hair, pacing the hallway like a man without a plan. I had to fix this. I wanted to fix this. But I couldnât bulldoze my way inâI had to earn back her trust one small step at a time.And so I did. I walked away like she asked, but every cell in my body screamed at me to turn around. To pound on the door again. To make her listen. To explain.But she didnât want explanations. She wanted space.I sat on the couc