LOGINMY FATHER'S STUDYI'd been avoiding this room. His sanctuary. The place he'd spent hours working on business, reading, thinking.The place where he'd had the heart attack that started everything."I can do this room," Lucas offered. "You don't have to...""No. I need to." I pushed the door open.It looked exactly like he'd left it. Papers on the desk. Reading glasses next to his computer. A half-finished cup of coffee, now moldy.I picked up the coffee cup while shaking hands."He made this the morning of my engagement party," I said. "The day everything fell apart. He was sitting right here when I called to tell him about Marcus. He said—" My voice broke. "He said, 'Come home, sweetheart. We'll figure this out together.'"Damien took the cup from me gently. "We don't have to do this room today.""Yes, we do. I can't keep avoiding it." I sat in my father's chair, and it still smelled like him. "He spent so much time in here. Fighting to save the business. Trying to protect me from how
I stood outside my childhood home in Brooklyn, unable to make myself go inside.The small two-story house looked exactly the same—peeling blue paint, the crooked mailbox my dad had always meant to fix, the rose bushes my mother had planted twenty years ago. But everything was different because he wasn't inside.He'd never be inside again."We don't have to do this today," Damien said softly beside me. "We can come back when you're ready.""I'll never be ready." I forced my feet to move toward the door. "But my mother wants the house cleared and sold. Says she can't bear to live here with the memories.""Where's she staying?""With my aunt in Connecticut. She left three days ago. Couldn't even wait until—" My voice cracked. "She left me a list of what she wants. Everything else is mine to deal with."Damien's jaw tightened. "She should be here helping you.""She's grieving in her own way." The excuse sounded hollow even to me. "Let's just get this over with."I unlocked the door, and t
Damien made up an excuse about me not feeling well, which wasn't even a lie. Within twenty minutes, the penthouse was cleared, even Lucas and Sophie leaving with promises to check in tomorrow.The silence after everyone left was deafening."What do you need?" Damien asked."I don't know." I looked around at the half-drunk champagne glasses, the congratulations banners, the celebration of a victory that felt pyrrhic. "This all feels wrong. Like we're celebrating while my dad's grave is still fresh.""We don't have to celebrate." He started gathering glasses, cleaning up. "We can just... exist. That's enough."I watched him clean, this billionaire CEO picking up champagne flutes and wadded napkins, and something in my chest cracked open."Stop," I said.He looked up. "What?""Stop cleaning. Come here."He set down the glasses and crossed with me. I pulled him down onto the couch, into my arms, and just held him."Thank you," I whispered."For what?""For kicking everyone out. For not ma
THE CEMETERY - LATE AFTERNOONWe stood at my father's grave, the fresh earth still settling, the temporary marker stark against the green grass."We won, Dad," I said softly, my hand in Damien's. "The court ruled in our favor. You were right—our love is real. Everyone can see it now."Damien squeezed my hand. "Thank you, James. For trusting me with your daughter. For seeing what we had before we did. For giving us your blessing." His voice cracked. "I promise I'll take care of her. Every day. For the rest of my life."I leaned against him, both of us crying silently."He would've loved today," I whispered. "Would've wanted to celebrate.""Then we'll celebrate for him. The way he would've wanted." Damien kissed my temple.***THE NEXT DAYI woke up feeling hollow.We'd won. The court ruled in our favor. We had our six months to prove our love was real, and then the inheritance would be ours permanently.We should have been celebrating.Instead, I felt like I was drowning.Damien was al
She pulled out her notes. "Mr. Cross. You met Mrs. Cross in a bar. You'd never seen her before that night. Within twelve hours, you'd offered her ten million dollars to marry you. Why?"Damien's hand tightened on mine. "Because I needed a wife to claim my inheritance, and she needed money to save her father.""That's the business reason. I'm asking for the real reason. Why her?"Damien was quiet for a moment. "Because when I looked at her, I saw someone who'd been betrayed. Someone who was angry and hurt and trying to be strong while falling apart. Someone who deserved better than what life had given them. And I wanted—I wanted to be the one to give her something better.""So pity?""No. Recognition. And attraction. Immediate, powerful attraction." His voice dropped. "She looked at me like I was just a man making an offer. Not Damien Cross, billionaire. Just... a person. And I wanted more of that."Judge Morrison made a note. "Mrs. Cross. Same question. Why did you say yes?""Initiall
We'd sent everyone home and were preparing to spend the night at the estate when my phone rang.The hospital.I knew before I answered. Somehow, I knew."Mrs. Cross. I'm so sorry. Your father—his heart gave out about twenty minutes ago. We tried everything, but—he's gone. I'm so sorry."The phone slipped from my hand.Damien caught it, caught me as my legs gave out."No," I whispered. "No no no no.""Isla.""He was fine. He was at the wedding. He was smiling. He can't be.""I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."I screamed. Actually screamed, a sound of pure anguish that tore from somewhere deep inside me.Damien held me while I broke, while I sobbed, while I fell completely apart."He made it to the wedding," Damien murmured into my hair, his own voice breaking. "He saw you happy. That's what he wanted. His last wish. He made it, Isla. He made it.""I want him back. I want my dad back.""I know. I know, baby. I'm so sorry."We sat on the floor of that beautiful house, holding each other
I awoke in regret with some fancy sheets.For one glorious moment, I didn’t think about it. And then it all came back, Marcus, my father, the bar, the plane, the chapel with its Elvis kitschy and the judge who had stared at us like we were idiots.My marriage certificate on the bedside with my new
My father stared at me for a long time, then he nodded. "He seems like a good man. Cold, but good. And the way he gazed at you when you weren’t watching...""How did he look at me?"“Like you were something he hadn’t solved yet.” My father smiled slightly. “And as if he wanted to discover it as muc
He pressed in closer and I smelled him, cedar wood and something deeper, a fragrance that was more expensive. "I need a wife. You need money. We can help each other."I laughed. Actually laughed. "That's your line? That's what you're going with?""It's not a line. It's a business proposition." He r
The champagne flute smashed against the marble floor, crystal shattering just like my perfectly groomed existence."Isla, baby, just listen...""Don't." My voice was strangled, barely human. “You will not.”Marcus was in the vestibule in the coatroom, staring at me, his bow tie undone, lipstick on







