The city lights looked different after the island.They blinked back at Ava from the car window like distant stars—cold, detached, and far too bright. The drive back from the private airstrip had been mostly silent, yet the silence had been comfortable but not awkward. Damien focused on the road, and Ava was wrapped in her thoughts. She hadn’t expected the retreat to shake her this much. Or him.But something had shifted.It was in how he opened the car door for her without a word, in the comfortable silence between them that had lost its awkwardness, and in the way she noticed him glancing at her from the corner of his eye—as if he was still attempting to understand her, as though he wasn't entirely confident in himself anymore.And darn it, she despised how greatly it influenced herWhen they arrived back at the penthouse, the familiarity should’ve been comforting. Instead, it felt… altered. Like she was returning to a place she no longer fit into in the same way.Ava stopped in the
The city silhouette shone beneath a rich purple twilight sky, the final traces of sunset vanishing over the horizon like a dissolving bruise. The buzz of life reentered Ava’s existence the instant they returned from the retreat Yet something had changed—something intangible and unspoken.Ava noticed it in the smallest of ways.Damien wasn’t just Damien anymore.Gone was the purely transactional coldness. In its place were small flickers of something deeper. Warmer. Almost… affectionate. Not that either of them dared acknowledge it. Not allowed.Their retreat had cracked open something raw between them. Being stranded had forced vulnerability where there used to be walls. But now, back in the real world, Ava wasn’t sure what to make of the shift.Damien remained exasperatingly inscrutable, still shrouded in his typical facade of cool detachment. Yet occasionally, she would notice him gazing at her when he believed she was unaware. His gaze was softer. Lingering. And it did things to he
Ava sat quietly at the kitchen island, her mind racing with silent ideas, her fingers casually following the rim of her coffee mug. A tempest of bewilderment and desire was sparked inside her by Damien's passionate kiss at the exhibition, which stuck to her memory like a haunting melody. She felt confused and uneasy as a jumble of feelings, including rage, love, and frustration, twisted together. However, Damien had turned inside, his quiet a barrier she was unable to break through.However, Ava knew she couldn't allow silence to prevail. She had to confront the storm.In his study, she found Damien, buried in papers, looking calmly detached. But the tension in his posture showed the conflict simmering behind his composed exterior."Damien," she muttered.He looked up, a flash of panic briefly obvious in his eyes before they were obscured by his usual lack of attention."Ava. Why have you come here?Leaning against the door as though to brace herself, Ava shut it behind her. "The kiss
From her position near the expansive window, Ava watched the city lights twinkle like celestial bodies in the distance. The restaurant fight with Damien continued to haunt her as she felt the persistent pain of their disagreement. Ava lost herself in her work as she tried to find comfort through the predictable flow of her daily tasks while believing that constant activity would heal the deep sadness inside her.But Damien had a way of showing up. Not always physically—though sometimes that too—but in the little things: in the scent of coffee brewed just how she liked it, waiting for her in the kitchen even when he wasn't home; the lingering glances when their paths crossed at home, eyes filled with a thousand things he never said.Ava attempted to ignore it. She aimed to remain emotionally indifferent to maintain the appearance of a relationship based on practicality and mutual benefits. However, with every moment they shared, each unexpressed feeling, every subtle gesture, every occ
The early rays of dawn quietly trickled through the delicate drapes of the penthouse, lighting the space in a warm golden tint. Ava moved, slowly becoming more conscious of the warmth all about her. Her cheek on Damien's chest. Damien's heart pounded firmly against her cheek, and his arm clasped her securely, as if he feared to release her even while asleepShe remained in that position for some time, absorbed in a feeling of safety she hadn't felt in ages. His calm, soothing heartbeat implied that all could be wellLast night flooded back in bright recollections: the cautious caresses, the soft whispers exchanged in the shadows, and the barriers they had ultimately allowed to collapse. It hadn’t just been about passion. It had felt like something deeper—something that came from the heart, not just the body. Like their souls had finally met without pretense.She shifted slightly, her eyes tracing the shape of Damien’s face. In slumber, he appeared so changed—gentle, nearly serene. She
After Ava walked away from Damien’s penthouse, her world became a blur of tangled emotions. A constant heaviness clung to her, sorrow wrapping itself around her heart like a second skin. Beneath the sadness simmered quiet anger—frustration that sometimes felt directionless. But above all, there was the aching hollowness, a void that slowly crept into her soul and refused to leave.She began getting up earlier than normal, consistently before the city’s rhythm. As the streets remained in deep sleep, Ava would quietly step into the crisp morning air, making her way to her studio. As she entered, the recognizable aroma of turpentine and unpainted canvas felt grounding to her—similar to an anchor. It was in that place, enveloped by paint and quiet, that she toiled tirelessly. Her art became louder, rawer, pulsing with emotion. Every brushstroke carried a piece of her she didn’t have the strength to speak aloud.Izzy noticed the shift almost immediately. She began checking in more often, d
The soft murmur of dialogue filled the vast area of the Maxwell Art Gallery, blending with the sounds of clinking glasses and the delicate tunes of nearby string instruments. Lights highlighted the shining marble floors, highlighting masterpieces that decorated the bright white walls—each a reflection of the artist's spiritDamien positioned himself at the doorway, his tall figure clad in a tailored coat, as his gaze scanned the room with a focus that revealed his typically composed demeanor. He hadn't intended to arrive late—hadn't even thought of attending at all. But something—instinct, maybe, or regret—had dragged him from his office straight here the moment he learned about the exhibition. Ava’s exhibition.Upon his arrival, the aroma of wet paint and old timber surrounded him. The area was a balanced fusion of contemporary minimalism and timeless allure, enabling Ava's pieces to capture complete focus. Visitors strolled with wine glasses in hand, stopping to appreciate the artwo
The skyline of New York extended infinitely past the lofty glass windows of Damien Sterling's penthouse workspace. The setting sun poured golden light throughout the city, radiating a warm brightness over steel and stone. Yet within the shining confines of his office, there was no comfort. Documents crowded his mahogany desk, the specifics blending into one another as his distracted stare wandered over them. The only noise was the unyielding, regular tick of the wall clock—recording time he no longer sensed a bond with.Since Ava’s departure, Damien had thrown himself into work with a desperation that teetered on self-destruction. Days bled into nights, and the difference between Monday and Saturday blurred until they meant nothing at all. He buried himself in endless meetings, intricate deals, and strategic calls, as if the right business win could somehow fill the space she’d left behind. To outsiders, he was more driven than ever—some applauded him, others whispered concerns. But n
The weight of silence between them was suffocating. Damien had spent the past few days pacing his penthouse, plagued by a helpless sense of déjà vu. He’d been here before—desperate to break through Ava’s walls, only to find them reinforced.But this time, it was different.She had told him about her past—about her father, the abandonment, the years of self-protection that followed. Damien had thought her confession would finally free them, finally bring them closer. But instead, it felt like she had drifted even further away.And that gnawing doubt Julian had planted during their last encounter refused to leave his mind.What else was she hiding?She’d been colder lately. Distant. Her gaze would drift during discussions, her replies brief and unfocused. At times she recoiled when he reached for her, as if she were in a different place altogether.The Ava who once gazed at him as if he were her lifeline in a tempest—was escaping his grasp.And he was unsure how to put an end to it.Ava
The city glittered below Julian’s office window, the skyline stretched like a crown of diamonds against the inky night. But he didn’t see it. His attention was consumed by a single, all-consuming objective.Ava Rossi.He had spent months digging into her past, and now the truth sat neatly in a thick manila file on his desk — a chronicle of secrets, abandonment, and the very pain she had fought so hard to conceal. Julian had always known people broke easier when their past was weaponized against them, and Ava was no exception.She would unravel.And Damien would follow.Julian didn’t plan to crush them in a single blow. That would be too easy. No, this needed to be slow. Calculated. The kind of pain that lingered.He started with seeds — small, almost invisible.A well-timed remark over drinks. A carefully constructed pause.“She’s guarded,” Julian said casually to Damien during a networking event, swirling his drink as though they were merely chatting. “Given everything she’s been thr
The rain commenced once more, a continuous, unyielding drumming on the windows that reflected the thumping in Ava’s heart.The turmoil inside her was just as powerful, swirling with numerous feelings she could no longer hold backShe sat on the edge of the couch, her hands clasped tightly as she stared at the floor as if it might reveal the answers she couldn't find within herselfDamien was in the kitchen, pretending to give her some room, but Ava could feel the tension radiating from him He was anticipating. He waited for her to say something, to clarify the shadows he frequently noticed in her eyes.She was out of justifications. Depleted of power. The secret she had held so closely to her heart was smothering her, and if she didn't release it soon, she would surely sink in it.Gently, she raised her head.“Damien?” Her voice trembled, hardly rising above a murmur.He instantly turned with his expression easing as soon as he noticed the tears welling in her eyes. Silently, he walke
The evening atmosphere was thick with the aroma of rain, indicating a storm nearing the city. Ava sat silently at the edge of her bed, as the soft lamp light created elongated shadows across the room. The silence was intense, pressing on her heart and turning each breath into a challenge.In her grasp, her phone shimmered gently, the notification on the display cutting through her delicate tranquilityI know your secret. Tell him, or I will.No name. No number she recognized. Only seven words, unsettling in their clarity, exact and ruthless. Initially, she believed it must be a kind of error. Perhaps a joke. Whoever sent it knew. They knew about her father. About the abandonment, the pain she had buried under years of practiced smiles and quiet strength.Her grip on the phone tightened. She wanted to believe it was nothing — a bluff. Maybe if she ignored it, the sender would give up.Yet anxiety had already infiltrated her, digging in deeply. She removed the message, her heart racing,
The room was immersed in a warm, golden light—the fireplace softly crackling, candles dancing on nearby shelves like little stars. It was a night that seemed to go on forever, dense with quiet, where speaking felt too burdensome. They sat nearby, but worlds apart, each ensnared in their own tumultuous reflections.Damien had remained mostly silent since their previous discussion, and Ava had refrained from pressing him. She sensed a change occurring between them, something fragile and risky, like a bridge beginning to groan beneath its own load. The barriers Damien had meticulously constructed around himself were beginning to fracture—and she noticed it. She sensed it.In the silence enveloping them, an indescribable tension—powerful and fervent—tingled in the atmosphere. Ava observed him from across the room while curling her legs to her chest on the couch. He gazed into the flames, his jaw tense, his shoulders rigid, but this was not the calm exterior he typically upheld for protect
Although it was late—well after midnight—Damien was unable to sleep. Memories of earlier times crowded his thoughts, which often happened when he allowed himself to ponder. Tonight, the memories seemed weightier than usual, the hurt more acute, the desire stronger. He stood at the window, gazing at the muted city skyline, the flickering lights below the storm creating a sorrowful sight.Ava had fallen asleep much earlier, but something kept him there, lingering in the shadows, alone with his thoughts. During these moments of isolation, the recollections emerged—those he had hidden, buried beneath layers of doubt and self-control. Her recollections.She was called Claire. She was all that Damien had never realized he desired and required. Friendly. Kind. Modest. All that had been absent from his life. She entered his life when he was nineteen, still youthful enough to hold onto the hope o
Ava paused a short distance from the entrance to Damien's study, discreetly watching him. The apartment was wrapped in quiet, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire in the corner. The flames moved boldly in the approaching darkness. Damien sat calmly by the fire, holding glass of whiskey in one hand while his other hand lay on the chair's arm. Despite his outward calmness, the stiffness in his stance suggested a mind weighed down by disturbing memoriesAfter several months of being acquainted with him, Ava realized that Damien employed emotional detachment as a protective shield. He was consistently calm, consistently aloof. Yet this evening, he felt more distant than ever before. His speech had been terse all day, his infrequent smiles laced with something inscrutable. It seemed as if an unexpressed burden pressed down on him, pulling him to a realm she couldn’t accompany. Regardless of her efforts, he never allowed her access—constantly withdrawing deeper behind a barrier of
The last night of Ava’s exhibition in Paris was nothing less than enchanting. The gallery buzzed with soft conversations and the melody of clinking champagne flutes, glowing beneath warm golden lighting. Art critics and collectors came together with intrigued fans, all enchanted by the depth and feeling of Ava’s creations. It was a night she would always remember—not only for the milestone it represented in her career, but also for how Damien had supported her throughout, his quiet pride providing her stability amid chaosAs the evening came to an end and the final guest stepped into the cool Parisian night, Ava remained in the serene room, absorbing the view of her paintings one final time before they were packed and sent to their new destinations. Damien observed her quietly, his expression contemplative.“Are you prepared?” he inquired gently while she gazed at himShe nodded, an uncommon mixture of success and sorrow surrounding her. "Indeed." "I believe I am."The following morni
Autumn had enveloped Paris like a gentle breath, casting a soft chill over the city that hinted at transformation. The warmth and hope that had previously enveloped Ava now seemed more remote, akin to a memory she struggled to hold onto. She had established a routine here—something dependable, something tranquil—but it seemed delicate, like a glass figure that could shatter if she exhaled too forcefully.Damien was still in Paris. He fulfilled his vow to remain, to be present. Even with him by her side, she felt the distance increasing, invisible yet significant. It wasn't something she could identify immediately—it appeared more like a slight change in the surroundings or a brief glimpse at the periphery of her sight.They would move around one another with ease, like two pieces that perfectly aligned Now, every moment seemed laced with hesitation. Unspoken words lingered, feelings hidden beneath the surface.