LOGINAria Holt knows she's walking into a trap. When Damien Cross offers her a job at his tech empire, she knows exactly why—eight years ago, her father's company killed his sister and destroyed his family. This is revenge. She takes the job anyway. Her family's name is a curse everywhere else, and her father is dying. She'll endure Damien's cruelty if it means survival. But Damien doesn't just want to humiliate her professionally. He wants to break her, piece by piece, until she feels every ounce of pain he's carried for eight years. He'll control her days, invade her thoughts, and prove that he holds all the power. Except his plan begins to unravel. Behind closed doors, the punishment turns into obsession. The cruelty shifts into desperate need. And Aria—quiet, guilty Aria—starts pushing back in ways that shatter his carefully constructed walls. When the truth about the accident finally surfaces, Damien faces an impossible choice: complete his revenge and destroy the woman he's fallen for, or let go of the only thing that's kept him alive for eight years.
View MoreAria POVJulian put the invitation on my desk on a Thursday morning without any preamble, which was how I knew he thought it was a big deal."The National Corporate Accountability Conference," he said, tapping the letterhead. "Keynote speaker slot. They want you specifically—they mentioned the Cross Technologies case by name in the ask."I stared at the paper. "How long have you had this?""Since Tuesday." He sat down across from me. "I wanted to think about it before I brought it to you."That told me everything. Julian had been in my corner since day one of this mess—he'd backed my public statement, he'd approved every TechVista initiative I'd proposed, he'd shown up at the hospital without being asked. If he'd waited two days to show me this, he had concerns."Say what you're thinking," I said.He folded his hands on my desk. "Accepting this makes you the public face of corporate whistleblowing in this country for the next several years. That's either a platform or a cage, dependin
Aria POVI didn't expect him to be standing in the lobby.Damien Cross, three days post-surgery, arm in a sling, looking slightly less like a ghost than he had in the hospital bed—standing by the entrance of the building with a coffee in his good hand and watching the elevator doors like he had nowhere else to be."How did you even get here?" I said. "You're supposed to be on bed rest.""I took a car." He held the coffee out toward me, a peace offering and an argument at the same time. "I'm not going back to the penthouse.""That's not—Damien, you got shot.""The bullet passed clean." The corner of his mouth curved, like he was quoting me back to myself. "No permanent damage."I should have sent him home. Any reasonable person would have sent him home.Instead I took the coffee.We ended up at a café six blocks away—his suggestion, neutral territory, a place that had nothing to do with either of our lives. Exposed brick and mismatched chairs and a chalkboard menu, the kind of place no
Aria POVMy father had the television on when I got to his room at Cedars-Sinai, the volume low, some morning news anchor cycling through overnight stories. He didn't look up when I came in—he was watching the screen with an expression I'd never seen on him before, something careful and held very tight.Then I looked at the screen and I understood why.Richard Hastings named primary responsible party in Emily Cross wrongful death. David Holt exonerated—DA's office releases official filing."Dad." My voice came out wrong—too thin, too high.He finally looked at me, and his eyes were wet, and he said, very quietly, "Eight years, Aria."My mother had been sitting in the chair by the window and I hadn't even noticed her until she made a sound that wasn't quite a word and pressed her hand over her mouth, and then the three of us were all just sitting there with the news anchor's voice filling up the silence.Henry arrived twenty minutes later with paperwork, real paperwork with the DA's se
Aria POVThe first thing I heard when finally let me into Damien’s room was the sound of machines beeping and Damien's awake. Groggy and pale, but awake.His voice, rough and dry, asking a question that made my heart stop."Hey," he says when he sees me."Hey." I move to his bedside, taking his good hand carefully. "How do you feel?""Like I got shot." He tries to smile. "But alive. Thanks to very fast paramedics and excellent aim on Victoria's part. A few inches right and—""Don't." I press my fingers gently over his lips. "Don't finish that sentence.""Sorry." He kisses my fingertips softly. "Did you mean it? What you said in the ambulance?"My heart stutters. "Every word.""Say it again." His gray eyes are clear now, focused entirely on me. "Please.""I love you, Damien Cross." I lean down, pressing my forehead to his. "I love you, and you scared me to death, and if you ever take a bullet for me again I'll kill you myself."He laughs, then winces. "Noted. Aria?""Yeah?""I'm going
Damien POVFacing David Holt is harder than any board meeting I've ever attended.The man lying in this hospital bed is the person I blamed for eight years. The person I built my entire existence around destroying. And now I'm sitting beside him, knowing I was wrong about everything."Mr. Cross." D
Aria POVBefore I can respond to Damien's confession, my phone rings.Mom's name flashes across the screen. My heart drops into my stomach."I need to take this." I don't wait for permission. "Mom?""Aria, your father is awake." Relief floods her voice, tinged with exhaustion. "He's asking for you
Damien POVI stare at the screen until my vision blurs. We need to talk. Four simple words that could mean everything or nothing. Forgiveness or final goodbye.I forward the text to Dr. Talia immediately.My therapist calls within minutes. "Damien. I saw your message.""She wants to meet." My voice
Aria’s POVI drive home slowly after leaving the coffee shop, Henry’s words echoing in my head. When I finally get home, Sophie’s waiting with worried eyes and Chinese takeout. “How are you?” That was the first thing Sophie asked.“Confused. Hopeful. Terrified.” I sink onto the couch. “He’s in the


















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