CHAPTER 7

Morgan POV

"Mom!"

I jolted awake, disoriented for a moment before two small bodies crashed into me.

"Mom, look! Look!" Timothy was bouncing on the seat, pointing frantically out the window.

"It's the Statue of Liberty!" Tanner pressed his face against the glass, leaving a smudge. "We learned about her in school!"

I blinked the sleep from my eyes and leaned over to see what had them so excited.

There she was. The Statue of Liberty rising from the water, her torch held high against the blue sky.

New York.

We were really here.

The familiar skyline came into view as the plane descended. Buildings stretched toward the clouds. The city sprawled out below us, massive and overwhelming and full of memories I'd spent six years trying to forget.

My chest tightened.

The last time I'd seen this view, I'd been naive, pregnant, and heartbroken. Flying away from the man who'd shattered me.

Now I was flying back.

With his children.

Children he didn't know existed.

"Mommy, are you okay?" Tanner's small hand touched my face.

I forced a smile. "I'm fine, baby. Just... remembering."

"Remembering what?"

"Nothing important." I kissed his forehead. "Look, we're about to land."

The boys went back to the window, their excitement drowning out the anxiety churning in my stomach.

The plane touched down smoothly. Within minutes, we were being escorted off the aircraft and into an expensive awaiting car.

I forced a smile on as the driver navigated through the city. I watched the streets pass by through the window. Yellow cabs, crowds of people, street vendors. The controlled chaos that was New York.

It looked the same, smelled, and even felt the same.

Twenty minutes later, the SUV pulled up in front of a modern building in a nice neighborhood. Not quite luxury, but definitely upscale.

"We're here," the driver announced, coming around to open our door.

A woman in business attire was waiting at the entrance. She smiled as we approached, clipboard in hand.

"Ms. Hayes? I'm Jennifer, from Sterling and Vale. Welcome to New York." She shook my hand, then Kathy's. "And these must be the famous twins."

Timothy and Tanner hid behind my legs, suddenly shy.

"It's okay, boys," I murmured.

Jennifer's smile didn't waver. "We've arranged everything for your stay. You're on the fifteenth floor. Three bedroom, two bath. Fully furnished. All utilities included, of course."

She led us inside. The lobby was clean and modern. Marble floors, tasteful art on the walls. A doorman who nodded politely as we passed.

The elevator ride felt endless. The boys had been whispering excitedly to each other about their new home.

When the elevator doors opened, Jennifer led us down a quiet hallway to apartment 15C.

She unlocked the door and gestured for us to enter.

I stepped inside and stopped.

The apartment was gorgeous.

Floor-to-ceiling windows filled the space with natural light. The living room was spacious, decorated in soft grays and whites. A full kitchen with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. Hardwood floors that gleamed.

"The master bedroom is through there," Jennifer pointed. "The two smaller bedrooms are down that hall. Perfect for the boys."

"Can we see?" Timothy was already pulling on my hand.

"Go ahead. Be careful."

They took off running, their footsteps bouncing off the apartment.

Jennifer continued her tour, showing us everything. The bathrooms, the rooms but amongst all my favourite part of the whole apartment was the view of the city from every window.

"Sterling and Vale has also arranged for a car service," she said, handing me a card. "Available twenty-four seven for any transportation needs. There's a cleaning service that comes twice a week. And if you need anything, anything at all just call this number."

She handed me another card.

"The company wants to make sure you're comfortable here, Ms. Hayes. This year is important to them. You're important to them."

The words echoed what Kathy had said on the plane.

Important.

What did that mean? What exactly had I agreed to?

"Thank you," I managed. "This is... it's more than I expected."

"Sterling and Vale takes care of their talent." Jennifer smiled. "Your first meeting is Monday morning at nine. All the details are in the welcome packet on the kitchen counter. If you have any questions before then, don't hesitate to reach out."

She left with a final smile and a click of the door.

I stood in the middle of the apartment, trying to process everything.

Kathy whistled low. "Well. They're definitely serious about this campaign."

"This is too much," I said quietly. "All of this. The jet. This apartment. The car service. Kathy, what did we get ourselves into?"

"I don't know." She looked as uncertain as I felt. "But whatever it is, they're paying you extremely well to be here."

Yeah, I guess so. Monday here I come.

**********

The weekend had moved in a blur. Monday had gotten here and I was feeling pasty and nervous to meet my new employers.

I'd been given an itinerary. A thick welcome packet with schedules and contact information and building layouts. I'd studied it all weekend while the boys explored our new apartment, but now that I was actually here, standing in the lobby of the massive glass building, none of it made sense.

Kathy squeezed my arm. "You've got this."

"Do I?"

"You've done bigger campaigns than this."

That was a lie. I'd never done anything this big. This building alone screamed money and power. The kind of place where people like me didn't belong.

But I was here anyway.

We checked in at the front desk. Got our visitor badges then were directed to the fifteenth floor for our nine o'clock meeting.

The elevator ride felt too fast and too slow at the same time.

When the doors opened, we stepped into a sleek reception area then spotted a receptionist who looked like she belonged in a fashion magazine.

"Morgan Hayes and Kathy Chen," Kathy said. "We have a nine o'clock."

The receptionist checked her computer. Frowned slightly. "I don't see you on the schedule."

My stomach dropped.

"That's not possible," Kathy said, pulling out her phone. "We received confirmation on Friday. The meeting is with—"

"Let me make a call." The receptionist picked up her phone, speaking quietly into it.

I stood there, feeling out of place in my carefully chosen outfit. Professional but approachable. The kind of thing that said "I belong here" even though I didn't.

The receptionist hung up. "There seems to be some confusion. Let me get someone to help you."

She disappeared through a door behind her desk.

Kathy and I exchanged glances.

"This is fine," she said. "Just a scheduling mix-up."

"Right. Fine."

But it didn't feel fine.

Minutes ticked by. The receptionist didn't return, no one came to help us.

"Maybe we should just—" I started.

"Wait here," Kathy said. "I'm going to find someone who knows what's going on."

She headed down a hallway before I could stop her.

Great.

Now I was alone in a reception area that felt increasingly hostile with every passing second.

I pulled out the itinerary again. Tried to make sense of the building layout. The map showed meeting rooms. Offices. Conference areas.

But nothing matched what I was seeing.

Screw it.

I couldn't just stand here like an idiot.

I pushed through a door that looked like it led somewhere official. I found myself in a long hallway lined with frosted glass offices. Voices filtered through the walls. Phones ringing. The hum of a busy workplace.

I walked, looking for any sign that said "Conference Room" or "Meeting Area" or literally anything helpful.

A door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar. Voices came from inside, loud voices…no…angry voices.

Maybe someone in there could point me in the right direction.

I approached the door, raised my hand to knock.

"—absolutely unacceptable—"

The voice caught my ear and made every cell in my body halt.

No.

No, it couldn't be.

"—I don't care what the contract says—"

My hand was still raised. Frozen in mid-air. That voice. Deep. Commanding. Furious.

I knew that voice.

I'd heard it whisper promises in the dark. Heard it laugh at my jokes on a plane years ago. Heard it tell me I was his.

My hand moved on its own, and pushed the door open.

The room came into focus in fragments.

There was a conference table with several people in lavish suits looking uncomfortable.

And at the head of the table, standing with his hands braced on the wood, radiating fury—

Damien.

Time stopped.

My heart stopped.

Everything stopped.

He looked the same. Older, maybe. Sharper. The priceless suit fit him perfectly in his glory. His dark hair was shorter than I remembered. But his eyes, those storm-gray eyes, were exactly the same.

And they were locked on me.

For a moment, just one heartbeat, something that looked like recognition, flashed across his face.

Then it was gone.

Replaced by pure white anger.

"Who the fuck are you?!"