Celeste's Pov The conference had gone off without a hitch. Leo's speech had made an impact, and the energy in the hall was still buzzing from his words. But as we stepped out of the room, the moment of victory was short-lived. The day wasn’t over yet. "Let’s move," Leo said, glancing at his watch. "Next meeting in thirty." We headed for the restaurant for a quick lunch. Leo barely spoke as he ate, his focus probably shifting to the investor meetings that would follow. He was mentally preparing for the next round of deals while I sat across from him, still hyper-aware of the whirlwind that was his day. The atmosphere around us was busy, filled mostly with conference attendees grabbing a quick bite. I didn’t say much either, using the time to review my notes and check my messages. As soon as the meal was over, Leo was on his phone, reviewing meeting agendas and making last-minute adjustments. I followed suit, keeping my own phone close, ready to handle whatever tasks he’d assig
Celeste’s POV The soft light of morning spilled through the hotel bedroom suite’s wide windows, casting a golden haze across the room. I stirred slowly, feeling the warmth of another body pressed against mine — strong, steady, and painfully familiar. Leo. His arm was draped lazily over my waist, his breath brushing against the top of my head in even, unhurried rhythms. For a moment, I didn’t move. I stayed there, suspended between sleep and waking up, memorizing the feel of him — the rise and fall of his chest. The kiss from the gala rushed in uninvited: his hand at the small of my back, the way his mouth had claimed mine under the blinding lights and the eyes of hundreds. A kiss that made me want things I wasn't brave enough to admit, not even to myself. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the thoughts away before they took root and twisted into something dangerous. This wasn’t real. This was an arrangement, a deal. No matter how real it had felt at the time. Carefull
Celeste's pov I thought things between Leo and me had changed for the better after everything that happened in Mexico. But I thought wrong. He’s been colder than ever—like none of it meant anything. Like Mexico never happened. It’s been three days since Mexico. Three days since the park, the hot air balloon, the moment Leo held my hand like he didn’t want to let go. And yet, the second we landed back home, it was like none of it ever happened. Leo’s been distant—barely speaking to me unless it’s about work, and when he does, his voice is clipped, formal. Cold. He hasn’t mentioned the trip, hasn’t looked at me the same way. It’s like he packed up whatever warmth he showed me and left it behind in Mexico. I told myself I imagined it—that I read too much into a soft look, a lingering touch. But I didn’t. And that’s what makes this worse. I scroll through his calendar and pause at the Kingsley Hospitality Mixer. It’s this afternoon—an investor-centered networking event the
Celeste's pov It was the first time I’d beaten Leo to the office. The executive floor was still and quiet, bathed in soft morning light. I stepped out of the elevator and walked past the sleek, empty desks toward the familiar doors of Leo’s office. After punching in the access code, I stepped inside. Everything was still—his desk empty, the usual hum of tension absent. I settled behind my corner desk and pulled up the day’s agenda. A full lineup. Meetings, calls, preliminary reports on the upcoming merger.It was going to be a long day. The soft knock startled me. I turned just as the door cracked open and Maya stepped in, clutching a sleek folder. “Hey,” she said, voice low as if afraid to disturb the silence. “I brought the finalized PR breakdown for the travel side of the merger. Mr. Kingsley wanted it before ten.” “Thanks,” I said, standing to take it from her. “I’ll make sure it’s on his desk.” Her gaze flicked to the empty chair behind his desk. “He’s not in yet?”
Celeste’s POV: I sat across from Leo at his sleek black desk, a legal pad in my lap and my laptop open beside me. My sweatshirt sleeves were pushed to my elbows, a pencil tucked behind one ear. Leo, in a fitted navy tee and dark joggers, looked anything but relaxed as he scrolled through a dense spreadsheet on his monitor. The warm, polished wood of his home office glowed beneath the overhead light, the only sound the soft click of his mouse and the occasional rustle of paper. “You're missing the implications in column G,” he said without looking up. “If the funding round pushes through under those terms, the board will demand an accelerated timeline. Which means the department heads will scramble, and the prototype delivery date becomes a noose.” I frowned, leaning forward. “But if we slow the rollout, we risk losing leverage with Westbrook’s side.” Leo finally glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “That’s the entire point of the bluff. We push, but not hard enough to
Celeste's PovThe scent of truffle risotto and aged wine filled the air, mingling with the soft clinking of silverware and murmured conversations. "Lumière" was the kind of restaurant where the rich indulged in overpriced delicacies while pretending to care about calorie counts. It was also where I spent my nights weaving between tables, balancing trays heavier than my will to live."Order up, Table Fourteen!" The head chef’s voice cut through the kitchen, snapping me out of my daze. I forced a smile, adjusting the stiff black uniform that somehow felt tighter today. Maybe because it had been years since I’d last been served at places like this rather than serving at them.I grabbed the plates, ignoring the ache in my arms, and stepped into the dimly lit dining area. My feet ached from the double shift, but rent was due, and I didn’t have the luxury of quitting.This wasn’t the life I had imagined for myself.At eighteen, I had walked across the graduation stage in designer heels, my
Celeste’s POV My world turned upside down. Not gradually. Not gently. But like a tablecloth ripped from beneath fine china—jarring, chaotic, and loud. That’s what I told myself as I stood frozen in place, the chill of Lumière’s air conditioning sinking into my skin like frostbite. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. Couldn’t breathe. Laughter—their laughter—rang in my ears like gunfire. Olivia’s smirk was cruel, her voice sugarcoated poison. Smile, Celeste the internet loves a delusional comeback. The air left my lungs. I didn’t remember inhaling again. The tray in my hand wobbled, as it hits a nearby table it's metallic clang echoing louder than the laughter behind me but I didn’t care. I barely registered it. All I knew was that the ground beneath me no longer felt solid.Panic bloomed in my chest, cold and suffocating. My cheeks burned. My throat itched. My ears roared with every heartbeat as shame rose like a tidal wave, threatening to pull me under. I turned on instinct
Leo’s POV I didn’t hear the buzz of my phone at first. Not over the quiet hum of the air conditioner. Not over the ticking clock that marked each second I refused to waste. My office was sealed from the chaos outside—soundproofed, temperature controlled, meticulously maintained. I didn’t tolerate noise. Not from people. Not from problems. I'd told Briar not to disturb me. She knew better than to test my limits. But the damn phone kept buzzing. Once. Twice. Three times in rapid succession. I didn’t look up until it buzzed again. And again. I exhaled sharply, jaw clenched, then picked it up. The screen glared back at me with thirteen missed messages. Ten from Briar. Three from my grandmother. A flicker of unease passed through me. Gran never texted more than once. If she had to repeat herself, it meant something was wrong. I unlocked the screen. All the messages boiled down to one line: “Celeste Montgomery is trending.” The name hit me like a punch to the chest. Not because
Celeste’s POV: I sat across from Leo at his sleek black desk, a legal pad in my lap and my laptop open beside me. My sweatshirt sleeves were pushed to my elbows, a pencil tucked behind one ear. Leo, in a fitted navy tee and dark joggers, looked anything but relaxed as he scrolled through a dense spreadsheet on his monitor. The warm, polished wood of his home office glowed beneath the overhead light, the only sound the soft click of his mouse and the occasional rustle of paper. “You're missing the implications in column G,” he said without looking up. “If the funding round pushes through under those terms, the board will demand an accelerated timeline. Which means the department heads will scramble, and the prototype delivery date becomes a noose.” I frowned, leaning forward. “But if we slow the rollout, we risk losing leverage with Westbrook’s side.” Leo finally glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “That’s the entire point of the bluff. We push, but not hard enough to
Celeste's pov It was the first time I’d beaten Leo to the office. The executive floor was still and quiet, bathed in soft morning light. I stepped out of the elevator and walked past the sleek, empty desks toward the familiar doors of Leo’s office. After punching in the access code, I stepped inside. Everything was still—his desk empty, the usual hum of tension absent. I settled behind my corner desk and pulled up the day’s agenda. A full lineup. Meetings, calls, preliminary reports on the upcoming merger.It was going to be a long day. The soft knock startled me. I turned just as the door cracked open and Maya stepped in, clutching a sleek folder. “Hey,” she said, voice low as if afraid to disturb the silence. “I brought the finalized PR breakdown for the travel side of the merger. Mr. Kingsley wanted it before ten.” “Thanks,” I said, standing to take it from her. “I’ll make sure it’s on his desk.” Her gaze flicked to the empty chair behind his desk. “He’s not in yet?”
Celeste's pov I thought things between Leo and me had changed for the better after everything that happened in Mexico. But I thought wrong. He’s been colder than ever—like none of it meant anything. Like Mexico never happened. It’s been three days since Mexico. Three days since the park, the hot air balloon, the moment Leo held my hand like he didn’t want to let go. And yet, the second we landed back home, it was like none of it ever happened. Leo’s been distant—barely speaking to me unless it’s about work, and when he does, his voice is clipped, formal. Cold. He hasn’t mentioned the trip, hasn’t looked at me the same way. It’s like he packed up whatever warmth he showed me and left it behind in Mexico. I told myself I imagined it—that I read too much into a soft look, a lingering touch. But I didn’t. And that’s what makes this worse. I scroll through his calendar and pause at the Kingsley Hospitality Mixer. It’s this afternoon—an investor-centered networking event the
Celeste’s POV The soft light of morning spilled through the hotel bedroom suite’s wide windows, casting a golden haze across the room. I stirred slowly, feeling the warmth of another body pressed against mine — strong, steady, and painfully familiar. Leo. His arm was draped lazily over my waist, his breath brushing against the top of my head in even, unhurried rhythms. For a moment, I didn’t move. I stayed there, suspended between sleep and waking up, memorizing the feel of him — the rise and fall of his chest. The kiss from the gala rushed in uninvited: his hand at the small of my back, the way his mouth had claimed mine under the blinding lights and the eyes of hundreds. A kiss that made me want things I wasn't brave enough to admit, not even to myself. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the thoughts away before they took root and twisted into something dangerous. This wasn’t real. This was an arrangement, a deal. No matter how real it had felt at the time. Carefull
Celeste's Pov The conference had gone off without a hitch. Leo's speech had made an impact, and the energy in the hall was still buzzing from his words. But as we stepped out of the room, the moment of victory was short-lived. The day wasn’t over yet. "Let’s move," Leo said, glancing at his watch. "Next meeting in thirty." We headed for the restaurant for a quick lunch. Leo barely spoke as he ate, his focus probably shifting to the investor meetings that would follow. He was mentally preparing for the next round of deals while I sat across from him, still hyper-aware of the whirlwind that was his day. The atmosphere around us was busy, filled mostly with conference attendees grabbing a quick bite. I didn’t say much either, using the time to review my notes and check my messages. As soon as the meal was over, Leo was on his phone, reviewing meeting agendas and making last-minute adjustments. I followed suit, keeping my own phone close, ready to handle whatever tasks he’d assig
Celeste's pov The ride from the airport was as smooth and silent as the man sitting beside me. Leo hadn’t said a word since we landed. The silence wasn’t unusual, but tonight it felt heavier. He watched the city blur past the window, unreadable as ever. I didn’t speak either. There was nothing to say—no conversation, no glance. Just distance. When the car finally turned into a long private driveway, my breath caught. The hotel—or rather, the palace masquerading as one—rose like a jewel against the sun-drenched Guadalajara skyline. Cream stone walls gleamed under the light, carved with ornate detailing. A waterfall framed the grand entrance, its sound mingling with soft instrumental music wafting through hidden speakers. Staff in crisp, modern uniforms moved with polished ease, greeting guests with practiced smiles and polite nods. And at the very top of the building, subtly etched in gold, the words Hotel Cielo shimmered. It was opulence without apology. I stepped out
Celeste's POV I should’ve known the day was doomed the second he smiled at me. Not the charming kind of smile you see in magazines. No. Leo Kingsley only smiles when he’s plotting something. Or watching me suffer. “Take a taxi,” he said, handing me a folded bill with that infuriating half-smirk. Now here I am, stomping down the pavement like a woman wronged by every god in the sky, cussing out the devil who sent me here. “Unbelievable,” I hissed, heels clicking against the concrete. “Bastard knew exactly what he was doing. That’s why he smiled. That’s why he smiled when he told me to take a damn taxi.” Just when I thought today would be perfect. So much for being in a good mood earlier. If you're wondering why I’m out here, dragging my feet like an unpaid intern and contemplating homicide in heels... let’s rewind. Flashback “Guess who just got a job at Kingsley Tower?” I beamed at my reflection, pointing both fingers at the mirror like I was announcing an Oscar w
Celeste's POV The first thing I heard was shouting. Not the usual silence I’d gotten used to in Leo’s sterile penthouse. Not the hum of the coffee machine or the soft sounds of the city filtering through the windows. But actual, unmistakable shouting. Male, irritated, and loud enough to rattle the walls like a slammed door in an empty house. That alone was bizarre. Leo didn’t shout. He wasn’t the type to raise his voice, not ever. He was controlled, cool—always. He vanished before the sun came up most mornings, his presence so faint I barely knew he was there. If I caught a glimpse of him, it was usually just the back of his head as he headed out the door, probably for yet another early meeting. But today? Not so much. “Are you kidding me?” came the next shout, a harsh, sharp sound that filled the room. There was a loud thud—something crashing to the floor or being thrown. Maybe both. My heart jumped, the sound so jarring it had me on high alert. I glanced at the clock o
Celeste's Pov The scent of roses and black tea greeted me the moment I stepped into the sitting room— the smell soft and familiar. Margaret sat by the window in a high-backed chair, sunlight weaving through the lace curtains and catching the silver in her hair. When she looked up and saw me, her face lit up. “Celeste,” she said, rising slowly but surely, arms already open. “You made it.” I stepped into her embrace, careful not to squeeze too tight. It hadn’t been long since I’d seen her—just a few days—but there was something about Margaret that made every hello feel like a homecoming. “You look even more radiant in daylight,” she said, smiling as she pulled back to look at me properly. “The gala lighting didn’t do you justice.” “I’ll make sure to tell the lighting director,” I said dryly, earning a laugh. She guided me to the sofa, the same one I remembered from last time, and poured tea into delicate china cups. “I saw everything that night,” she said, her tone li