Chapter 8 - The Rooftop

Chloe Bennett had never been the type to second guess herself. She was raised to be confident, to handle pressure the way her father did - without hesitation, without doubt.

Every decision, every move she made had to be precise. Strategic. Flawless.

That was the weight of being a Bennett. Now with the company resting in her hands, that weight had only grown heavier. She told herself she was ready. That she had worked too hard to question herself now. But doubt was a quiet, insidious thing. It crept in when she least expected it.

Her upcoming meeting shouldn't have shaken her - she had faced worse or so she thought.

Yet, as the hours drew close a tightness settled in her chest, one she couldn't quite shake.

The rooftop of The Aurelius had always been her retreat. A quiet place, high above the chaos of her world, where she could breathe and think.

Tonight, the soft hum of jazz music floated through the air, blending with the low murmur of conversation.

The hotel was exclusive, reserved only for the elites. A haven where high society gathered to clink glasses and whisper behind jewelled masks of courtesy.

The ones who frequented it weren’t there for the serenity—they came for the champagne, the jazz, and the quiet prestige of knowing they belonged.

But Chloe wasn't there for any of that. She wasn’t here to belong. She was here to think. She exhaled slowly, wrapping her arms around herself as a chill breeze swept through her silk dress. The city stretched out below her, a sea of lights endless and indifferent. For a moment she let herself forget.

The night went slowly and she wasn't the only one seeking clarity.

Damien Cross never liked being confined. His estate was grand and impeccable, a place most people would kill to live in. But some nights it felt like prison. Too many thoughts. Too much silence.

So he came here. The Aurelius was one of the few places that met his standard - exclusive, discreet, untouched by the world outside.

Here he didn't have to deal with the vultures circling his name, the weight of expectations pressing in.

Tonight, he had planned for nothing more than a quiet drink. A moment of solitude.

As Damien quietly took in the serenity of the night he noticed something familiar - someone.

Standing by the railing, lost in thought. Her blonde hair glides down her back in waves, The way she holds herself - shoulders squared, chin lifted. He noticed her dress, how it clung to her curves like a second skin, the fabric smooth and effortless, highlighting every dip and contour of her body.

There was something about the way she stood, the way her shoulders lifted with each breath like she was carrying the weight of something unseen.

Damien smirked, his head tilting slightly, amusement flashing in his eyes. He chuckled as he let loose a button on his collar. "This is gonna be fun," he said to himself as he slowly made his way to her.

Chloe was too deep in her thoughts to notice who snuck up behind her.

"You know the last time we met like this, we ended up sharing more than just a bed."

Chloe lowered her head, and under her breath, she muttered "Can the ground open up and swallow me already?" She knew who that was and it was the last person she wanted to see right now.

Damien chuckled. "Now that would be a shame. I was rather enjoying the view." He teased, his eyes checking her out.

She turned to face him, startled but composed. Her gaze flickered over him, his sharp suit, the effortless confidence in the way he stood. She hadn't expected to see him here, she hadn't expected to ever see him again.

"Do I make you nervous, Miss Bennett?"

She said nothing, at this point, her words failed her. She swallowed. The weight of his glare pressed against her skin.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, crossing her arm.

Damien ran his hand through his hair, sighing. "Didn't realize this was your private rooftop"

"That's not what I meant. I'm not surprised you're here anyway," she said in a low and dry tone. Turning back to the city view.

Damin arched a brow, he was intrigued at how calm she was even though he could tell she was hiding a lot behind that carefree tone.

"And why is that?"

She took another look at him as if the answer was written in his demeanour.

"Because places like this are meant for people like you. Private, Secluded. Exclusive."

Damien took a step forward, slow and deliberate. "It's quiet here," he continued, "Closed off. No demands. No expectations. Just space to think."

She bit her lower lip, a strange weight settling in her chest. He wasn't wrong. But she wasn't about to admit that.

Before she could say a thing, Damien leaned in slightly, his fingers finding a loose strand of her hair, He twirled it between his fingers, his touch light and unhurried. "How much have you thought about me, Chloe?" His tone became low and seductive.

The question sent a shiver down her spine, her breaths quickened as she held his gaze, pressing her lips into a thin line. "I haven't." She whispered.

His fingers trailed down the strand before releasing it, his smirk deepened as he leaned in just enough for her to catch the faintest hint of his cologne. "Pretty liar."

"You think too highly of yourself."

"I don't think, I know." his eyes scanned her face, reading every unspoken thought. "Tell me Chloe....was it just once or do I haunt you every night?"

Chloe inhaled sharply. "That night was a mistake," she said, her voice quieter than usual. "It wasn't meant to happen."

Damirn nodded slowly. His eyes lingered on her lips before lifting again. "Shame," he said. "Didn't seem like one to me."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged. The tension could be cut with a knife.

Then, just when she thought he'd let it go, he spoke again. His voice was different this time. Less teasing, more cautious. "I have to ask," he paused. Watching her carefully. "How did you ever forgive him?"

Chloe frowned, taken aback. "Forgive who?"

"Your ex," he said. "For doing it with your sister."

Chlor shrugged, irritated by his blunt tone. "Who says I forgave him?"

He smiled, as if impressed. "Good point. And what about her?"

Her throat tightened at the mention of Sienna. She rubbed her palms together, taking in the view of the rooftop. "It's complicated."

Damien let the silence settle before speaking again. "Complicated? That's an interesting word for betrayal."

"Why do you even care?" she asked, shooting him a hard glare.

"I don't." He said smoothly, I'm just curious how someone like you....handles a knife in the back." He studied her reaction. "Let me guess,,,, you pretend it doesn't hurt, don't you?"

Chloe slowly shook her head. "I don't owe you an explanation."

"No, you don't." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "But I think you want to give one."

Chloe couldn't find the words for him, but she wasn't about to tell him that she was hurt and pretending was the only way out.

So she kept her thoughts and hoped he would push no further.

She took her hands off the rooftop railing and gently wrapped it around herself as she shivered. The night was becoming unbearably cold.

It was slight, barely noticeable, but Damien caught it. Without a word, he slipped off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

The unexpected gesture caught her off guard. The warmth of his body lingered in the fabric. And for a brief second, she was surrounded by his scent. Spicy, expensive whiskey, something dangerously intoxicating.

She looked up at him startled. "I don't need-"

"I know," he cut in sharply, his voice raspy. "But humour me."

She should have tugged it off, and given it back, but instead, she found herself immersed in the comfort it gave to her body.

"Well there you go, Chloe," He said. Smiling at the thought of his generosity. She looked good, he thought to himself.

Chloe looked up at him, carefully choosing her next words. "You keep using my name when I don't even know yours."

Damien stayed silent, debating on how to respond. "Darling some things are better left unsaid."

She narrowed her eyes. "That's not an answer."

But sadly that was all Damien could give.

He stepped closer, just enough for her to feel his warmth despite the cold. "And yet, It's all you're getting." He said, gliding his fingers across her chin.

Chloe frowned, this was their second encounter and she still hadn’t gotten his name. In a fit of frustration, she yanked the jacket off her shoulder and shoved it against his chest.

“I don't need this." She blurted out.

He caught it effortlessly, his expression unreadable as if her reaction amused him.

“Come on Chloe, you're being petty."

She walked away willing to ignore the lingering feeling his touch had left behind. The night air hit against her bare skin, but she refused to shiver, refused to let him see how much he affected her.

She couldn’t give him that satisfaction.

"Have a lovely night" she yelled as she created a distance from him.

"See you soon, Chloe." Damien said.

Chloe froze in her steps. A chill that had nothing to do with the night air prickled at her skin.

The words echoed in her mind, unravelling something deep in her chest. See you soon, Chloe,

She'd heard those words before. Not long ago.

Her breath caught as the memory surfaced - the mysterious phone call. The low, knowing voice that had sent a shiver down her spine. That had kept her up at night.

How could she have forgotten?

Slowly, she turned, expecting - needing - to find him still standing there, watching her with that infuriating gaze.

But he was gone.

Her eyes darted the entire rooftop, scanning the scattered groups of people still lingering under the hotel lights.

He wasn't there.

Chloe stood rooted in place, her heart thudding, as realization settled over her. Before she could take another step, a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Ma'am, your jacket."

She turned, blinking at the waiter standing behind her. He held out something. A neatly folded jacket.

Her breath quickened as she stared at it. It wasn't hers.

Her fingers hesitated before reaching for it. The fabric was warm. His warmth.

She staggered, gripping the jacket tighter as she looked around the rooftop once more.

But Damien was gone.

But somehow, he'd still left a piece of himself behind and she knew this wasn't over.