Tangled threads

The Cole mansion was unnervingly quiet.

Inside his private study, Mr. Cole leaned back in his leather chair, phone pressed to his ear. The low, commanding voice on the other end was one he could never ignore.

Lancaster.

“I have a shipment arriving from China,” Lancaster said, smooth and certain. “Five million dollars. It needs to be cleared off the radar. No customs, no paperwork. My boys will take it from the border. I want you to make sure it passes through.”

Cole’s fingers drummed against the polished mahogany desk. “That’s a heavy request.”

“You owe me heavier.”

A pause stretched. Cole’s jaw tightened. “Fine. Consider it done.”

“Good.” Lancaster’s voice was a blade. “I’ll be in touch.” The line went dead.

Cole exhaled, dropping the phone onto the desk. He hated the taste of submission, but Lancaster was right—his empire had been built on the man’s favor. If Lancaster hadn’t vouched for Cole Wares in front of Microsoft all those years ago, they’d still be scraping contracts from scraps.

The door creaked. Damian stepped in, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Dad, about the car…”

“Not now.”

“You’ve been pushing this off for weeks.” Damian’s tone edged with frustration.

Cole’s eyes snapped open. “Damian, I said not now. Do you have your license renewed?”

Damian hesitated. “Not yet.”

“Then stop asking. I will not raise reckless children who can’t obey the law.”

Damian let out a bitter laugh. “Law? You’re talking about law?”

Cole’s eyes narrowed like daggers. “Watch your tone.”

“Forget it,” Damian muttered, turning away.

“Come back here.”

Damian froze. Slowly, he turned.

“You’re going to the hospital board meeting next week,” Cole ordered. “I only hold five percent of their shares, and I want more. I heard the majority shareholder may be open to selling. You’ll persuade them. Offer whatever it takes.”

Damian frowned. “Who owns the majority?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Cole waved him off. “Don’t fail me.”

Outside, Damian slammed the car door shut and gripped the wheel until his knuckles whitened.

He should have been thinking about board meetings, numbers, negotiations. Instead, one face kept flashing through his mind.

Aria.

Traffic was brutal, horns blaring in every direction. Damian’s patience was thin when his eyes caught movement at the pedestrian crossing.

Her.

Aria was helping an elderly woman cross the road, her hand firm but gentle on the woman’s arm. The sunset haloed her hair, casting her in soft gold.

Damian’s lips twitched into an unwilling smile.

“Really?” he muttered. “You again.”

The light changed. He pressed the accelerator, Audi surging forward. He wanted to catch her, maybe cut her off.

But her blue Mercedes was fast. Too fast. She glided through traffic with practiced ease. He pressed harder, chasing.

The siren wailed.

“Pull over!”

A traffic officer waved him down. Damian cursed under his breath and pulled aside.

“License and registration.”

“Do you even see that car?” Damian jabbed a finger at the disappearing Mercedes. “She was over speeding too. Why don’t you stop her?”

The officer raised a brow. “Focus on your own driving.”

“This is bullshit.” Damian shoved his papers into the officer’s hand. “Total bullshit.”

By the time he was waved off with a warning, Aria was long gone.

When Damian arrived on campus, his frustration doubled.

Her Mercedes was parked neatly in the management lot reserved only for the top staff.

He stormed straight to the Vice Chancellor’s office. “There’s a student’s car in your reserved space. If it isn’t moved, I’ll have it towed.”

The VC frowned but nodded. Minutes later, the announcement blared across campus.

“Will the owner of the blue Mercedes parked in the management lot move the vehicle immediately, or it will be removed.”

Aria sat calmly in class, pen tapping against her notebook. She didn’t move.

“Crazy girl,” Damian muttered as he entered the lecture hall.

Eyes followed him instantly. Murmurs rose.

“That’s Cole’s son.”

“Why’s he here?”

“Maybe for her…”

He spotted her easily. The calm in her posture, the way she pretended not to care it drove him mad.

“Aria,” his voice rang out, sharp enough to slice the chatter.

She looked up lazily. “Yes?”

“Come with me.” He grabbed her wrist.

Gasps echoed. Phones were lifted.

“What’s going on?”

“Are they fighting?”

“Or dating?”

Aria yanked her hand free, glare burning into him. “Don’t touch me.”

For a moment, their eyes locked. And something shifted.

The fury drained from Damian’s chest, replaced by a dangerous heat.

He stepped closer, pulling her toward a corner, his arm braced against the wall beside her.

“You keep running,” he said lowly.

“Because you’re insufferable,” she shot back.

“You’re scared.”

“Of you?” She scoffed. “Please.”

“Then look me in the eye and say you don’t feel this.”

Her lips parted, but no words came.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. The world fell away.

And then his lips were on hers. Fierce, consuming, desperate.

Her body betrayed her, leaning into him, her hands trembling as they pressed against his chest. She hated how much she wanted this.

Until her phone buzzed.

She jerked back, fumbling for it.

Dr. Adrian.

Her voice was uneven. “Yes… I’ll be there now.”

She shoved her books into her bag and left without a backward glance.

Damian stood frozen, chest heaving, tasting the ghost of her lips.

Ryan slipped into the hall, sliding next to him. His expression was unreadable.

“D.” His voice was low. “We need to talk.”

“Not now.”

“Yes, now.” Ryan grabbed his arm, dragging him to the side. “I just found something out about her.”

Damian turned, eyes sharp. “What are you talking about?”

Ryan leaned close, whispering fast.

Damian’s entire body went rigid. His fists clenched, his jaw tightened. The blood drained from his face and then rushed back in a violent wave.

His voice roared through the hall, raw and furious.

“Who the fuck is she?!”

The room froze. Gasps spread like wildfire. Students stared, recording, whispering, wide-eyed.

But Aria was already gone.