LOGINThe first light of dawn had barely touched the skyline when Damian stepped into the empty elevator of Thorne & Co.’s headquarters, his polished Oxfords clicking against the marble floor.The building was still, the hum of the city outside muted by the thick glass walls, but his pulse was anything but quiet.His fingers twitched around the leather portfolio in his hand, the weight of the documents inside—finalized, signed, sealed—sending a thrill through him.The merger with the American investor had gone through. After months of negotiations, late-night calls across time zones, and enough red tape to strangle a man, it was done.Tonight, the gala would be more than a celebration; it would be a statement. Thorne & Co. was no longer just a European powerhouse—it was a global force.He exhaled sharply as the elevator ascended, the reflection in the mirrored walls showing a man who looked every bit the part: tailored navy suit, crisp white shirt, a tie knotted with precision. But his dark
The organ music swelled, a saccharine tide Sarah wanted to drown in. After one week. One week of agonizing replays, sleepless nights punctuated by the ghosts of whispered promises and shattered trust in that secret room. Now, here she was, watching her mother glide serenely down the aisle towards Damian. Her Damian. Or, more accurately, Eleanor's Damian.Sarah’s stomach churned. She should be happy. This was her mother's fairytale. A second chance at love after years of quiet widowhood. But all she felt was a suffocating guilt, a lead weight anchoring her heart to the floor.Naomi, her best friend since kindergarten, squeezed her hand. "Forget that jerk," she hissed, her voice barely audible above the music. "She doesn't deserve either of you."Sarah managed a faint smile, more grimace than genuine amusement. Easy for Naomi to say. Naomi wasn't carrying the burden of knowing. She wasn't the one who had stumbled upon her mother and Damian, in a moment of unguarded passion, in that hidd
The mansion door groaned shut behind Eleanor, her silhouette swallowed by the mist curling along the grounds. Sarah exhaled, ready to follow—until a sudden chill brushed the back of her neck.Damian appeared beside her she didn’t get two steps before his hand clamped around her wrist, his fingers like steel bands, unyielding.The heat of his bare torso pressed against her back as he yanked her against him, the scent of his cologne—dark, spiced, intoxicating—filling her lungs as she gasped.His suit jacket had been discarded hours ago, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal the hard planes of his chest,“Running already?” His breath was hot against her ear, his lips brushing the shell of it just long enough to send a traitorous shiver down her spine. “We haven’t even gotten to the best part.”Sarah’s pulse hammered in her throat, her blouse clinging to her skin, the silk damp with sweat. “Let go of me,” she snapped, but her voice lacked its usual bite, thick with somet
After they finished eating at the restaurant, Damian offered to take them to see the mansion where they would live after the wedding.Sarah declined, but her mother, Eleanor, insisted on going and said, “Please, Sarah. You know I can’t do this without you.” After her mother’s pleading, Sarah had no choice but to say yes.---The grand foyer of the mansion stretched before Sarah, its marble floors gleaming under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, their light fracturing into prisms that danced across the walls.Every step she took echoed faintly, swallowed by the vastness of the space. Damian moved ahead of her with an effortless grace, and Sarah found her gaze lingering a second too long before she forced herself to look away.She could still hear her mother’s voice, warm and pleading, wrapping around her like a silk scarf—too tight, too suffocating.“We didn’t live together for five years. Please, Sarah, give this as a wedding gift to your mother.” Eleanor’s smile had been radiant,
The bridal boutique’s air was thick with the scent of silk and lace, the kind of sweet, suffocating perfume that clung to the throat like regret.Sarah stood frozen in her bridesmaid gown, the emerald fabric clinging to her hips, the neckline dipping just low enough to tease the swell of her breasts—breasts that Damian’s hands had claimed only days before.The memory of his rough palms skimming over her skin, his teeth grazing her nipple until she whimpered, sent a traitorous heat pooling between her thighs.She shifted, the satin lining of the dress whispering against her inner thighs, a mocking reminder of how easily she’d spread for him.Eleanor twirled in front of the floor-length mirror, her wedding dress a cascade of ivory and delicate beadwork, her face alight with a joy so pure it made Sarah’s stomach twist. “Oh, Sar, isn’t it perfect?” Eleanor breathed, pressing a hand to her chest as if she could contain the happiness threatening to burst from her. “I never thought I’d fin
Damian’s place was a penthouse downtown, all floor-to-ceiling windows and sleek, modern furniture that looked like it cost more than her annual salary.The elevator ride up was suffocating, the mirrored walls reflecting her flushed face, the way her nipples were still hard from the chill of the parking garage—or maybe from something else.Damian stood beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him, close enough that if she turned her head, her lips would brush his jaw.The doors slid open directly into his living room, the city sprawled out beyond the glass like a glittering promise.Sarah barely had time to take it in before Damian was moving, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it onto the back of the couch.His fingers went to his tie, loosening it with a sharp tug before he pulled it free and draped it over the jacket.Sarah’s breath hitched as he unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, exposing the dark ink of a tattoo snaking up h







