*AMBROSE*
When Nolan took the liberty of inviting me to this club, I thought he'd at least accompany his old man and show me the ropes. "You need to relax, dad; you've been handling the affairs of the company, and I don't even remember the last time you had an actual day off." He sounded convincing back then, and unfortunately, I believed him. I checked my phone again and found no message from him. He was supposed to be here an hour ago, and I just haven't found the guts to leave this bar yet. I tried his number again, but it was going straight to voicemail, so I decided to order a drink. I might as well suck it up and enjoy the night while it's still young. I've worked hard all my life just to make sure that my son had everything he needed despite his mother's absence. But my boy is sensitive even though he'd never admit it. I chuckled softly to myself. "Is this seat taken?" A woman's voice asked, and I turned around to find a young woman. Brown chocolate hair and piercing blue eyes met mine, and I found myself staring at her a bit longer. She cleared her throat, and I snapped out of the daze and offered her the seat beside me. "You know it's rude to just randomly stare at people until you make them uncomfortable," she muttered quietly. I resisted the urge to smile. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, you just looked familiar." In a sense, she did look a lot like her. I gulped down my drink as the amber-pale liquid burned my throat. The bartender came to take her order. "I'll have what this gentleman is having; just make it stronger," she muttered quietly. I fought the urge to turn to her, but my ego wouldn't let this moment go amiss. "Having a rough night?" She took off her jacket and remained in a white blouse. Our eyes locked in a frenzy as she tied her hair in a messy bun. She had some freckles on her nose. "I guess you could say that," she finally exclaimed bitterly. Her drink soon arrived, and we were silent again. "Are you going through a breakup?" I found myself asking, and she narrowed her eyes at me. She took a sip of her drink, and I watched her lips for a moment. Rose pink. "You'll never see me all worked up over some man, but since you're asking, it's work-related." I nodded quietly. "What about you?" She asked curiously. I shrugged carelessly. "Uh, I'm just an old man having a drink alone." She checked her phone, frowned, and scoffed in annoyance. "Trouble in paradise?" I taunted quietly. Her sharp gaze was fixed on my face, and a smirk curved her rose-pink lips. "For an old man, you're really nosy." I chuckled softly and raised my hand in defense. "I'm sorry; I just haven't been to a bar in years, so I'm kind of working on my people skills." She gulped down her drink in one go, and I tried to stop her, but it was too late. She's definitely going to feel the effects of the alcohol in the morning. She burst out laughing and touched my hand and I felt her touch leaving some kind of emotion inside me. " Can you believe my fucking grandfather; he wants me to fucking marry some asshole I've never met?" I gave her a small smile, and the waiter brought her the next drink. She began checking the contents of her purse and took out a credit card. "Keep the drinks coming, buddy, because I'm going to be here all night." When the bartender brought her the next drink, I took it from her. She glared at me, pouted her lips, and I found myself getting lost in her eyes again. I've never observed a woman this way in a long time. I released the breath I was holding and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her cheeks turned a red hue. She smacked my hand away. "Are you some pervert? I swear your ass is gonna rot in prison if you try anything funny," she warned. I had a feeling that I was going to spend my evening babysitting this girl. "You never told me your name." She looked up, meeting my gaze, and there was that feeling again. I swallowed hard. "Dance with me." Like that, Doja cat began playing, and I've never been more disappointed in a playlist. I preferred something old school. She carefully got off her stool and began swaying to the music. She was ushering me to join her, and when I refused, she dragged me forcefully. "Why are you so uptight?" she whispered softly and wrapped her arms around my neck. This woman was dangerous. She leaned her head on my shoulder when Careless Whisper by George Michael began playing, and I've never felt so happy in my entire life. I placed my hand on her lower back as we swayed to the music slowly. I spun her around and smiled at her. Her gaze softened. "I'm guessing that this is your jam," she taunted quietly. I nodded quietly. "My dad used to listen to this song all the time, and believe it or not, it kind of grew on me," she admitted softly. She looked up, meeting my gaze, and it felt like time had come to a standstill. She reached out to touch my face despite the white beard. "Don't." She frowned at me. "Don't order me around." I felt amused. "Let me drop you off at home; you're too drunk." I watched her intensely. "Kiss me." My gaze lingered on her lips, but she was drunk, and I didn't want to take advantage of her. She'd probably regret all this in the morning. I made some distance between us, and she gave me a puzzled look. She looked angry. Before I could stop her, she grabbed her stuff and rushed out of the bar, and I found myself following her. The night air felt alluring, and I caught sight of her having a hard time finding her car keys. I gently grabbed her hand. "Why are you so pissed off right now?" She scoffed in annoyance. "I thought you were hitting on me, but I guess it's probably the alcohol making me see things that aren't probably real." I pulled her towards me. "You should be scared of asking any random man to just kiss you, little flower." I touched her cheek, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. Her cheeks turned crimson under the moonlight. I could feel the magnetic pull between us, and I slowly pushed her towards the car and leaned in slowly, and she closed her eyes. I kissed her on the cheek, and she gasped softly. "Let me drop you off at home." I took the keys from her, and I could see the shock on her face. She spun around, glaring at me. "You don't get to do that," she exclaimed angrily and crossed her arms over her chest. I cocked a brow at her. “Do what?” I taunted. She narrowed her eyes at me. “Play with my feelings.” I sat in the driver's seat, waiting for her tantrum to end. She huffed in annoyance and got in. I was probably hurting her ego. "Hey... I usually don't kiss people who are drunk, but I'll make an exception for you kid.” She frowned at me. "I'm not a child." I grasped her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Come here, piccolo fiore." She settled on my lap and placed her hand on my shoulders, and I fought the urge to groan when I felt her against me. Her eyes darkened dangerously. "Are we getting excited?" she taunted and bit her lower lip, and the control I was trying to maintain went out the window. I pulled her closer, crushing my lips on hers, and it was everything I had imagined. Raw passion and need. I slipped my hand underneath her shirt, and I felt her body tense. Perhaps I had taken it too far. I pulled away, breaking the kiss. "I'm sorry." She lowered her gaze, messing with the buttons on my shirt. "Don't be... just don't hold back," she whispered softly. Our eyes locked in a frenzy. "How old are you again?" She shook her head in disbelief and smiled. "Oh my god, will you stop age-shaming me? I'm not that young." Her lips met mine slowly, and I let her touch me, something I haven't let a woman do in a very long time. She let out a shaky exhale, and I helped her unbuckle my belt. "I don't have any condoms." She hummed softly. "I'm on the pill; don't worry..." I never thought I'd get laid in a bar parking lot. With nothing but a dark, deserted alley and the feel of her skin against mine, I buried myself inside her until she was begging me not to stop. "You still haven't told me your name, piccolo fiore..." I rasped softly in her ear. She wrapped her arms around my neck. "What does piccolo fiore mean?" She whispered softly. I chuckled darkly. "It means little flower." She looked up, meeting my gaze, and touched the ink on my skin. "Will I ever see you again?" I found myself asking. She remained silent, and I already knew the answer to my question. I entwined our hands, slowly pushing myself into her, enjoying the warmth of her body against mine. Her lips met mine in a slow haze, and I knew that this woman had me wrapped around her finger and there was no going back. She was mine. But when I woke up the next morning she was gone and the only reminder of our passionate night was the pair of red panties she left behind. I chuckled softly. My phone began to ring and answered the call and placed it to my ear. It was Nolan. “Dad, where the heck are you? It's my engagement today.” Shit.BEN POV He was too close. Too close for comfort. So I took a step back. “What’s going on, Nolan? I heard someone’s voice.” He looked away, refusing to meet my gaze. “It was Clay; he was just passing by.”“Nolan?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I think I should go to bed before I do something that I’ll regret later.” Before I could utter a word, Nolan had already gone upstairs. Was I missing something? I went upstairs to retrieve my phone. Once I found it, I decided to call Clay, but he wasn’t answering. This only made me feel anxious. Nolan and Clay were hiding something, and I was going to get to the bottom of the issue. I sat in the armchair near the window, watching the stars. It felt like he was watching me. “Are you there? Each passing day only seems to get worse, Ambrose, and most of the time I feel like I’m drowning in quicksand.” A lone tear rolled down my cheek. “Nolan and I are some kind of team… Why did you leave all those shares, Ambr
NOLAN POVSleep wasn’t even an option. Not tonight.I sat at the kitchen counter, staring at the half-empty mug in front of me. The tea I made for her, the same rooibos blend my father used to brew, had gone cold. I hadn’t touched it. Maybe because some twisted part of me felt like I had no right to drink it. Like even now, even after everything, I was trespassing on something that wasn’t mine.It’s funny. You can share a roof with someone, breathe the same air, pass them the sugar over breakfast and still feel like a stranger in your own home.I ran a hand through my hair, pushing back the frustration, the ache, the… whatever this suffocating feeling was. Grief. Guilt. Love. It was all tangled up so tight I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.Her voice still echoed in my head.“It can’t, Nolan.”Those three words were a scalpel sharp, precise, unforgiving.She was right. Of course, she was right.This thing between us whatever it was had no future. Not here. Not now.N
BEN POVI closed the door to my room and that’s when it happened.The dam broke.The tears I’d been holding back all evening came flooding out, falling faster than I could wipe them away. My chest felt tight, like someone was sitting on it, like breathing itself had become a battle I wasn’t sure I was ready for.God… Why did it hurt this much?I slid down against the door until I was sitting on the floor, knees pulled to my chest, hands trembling. I thought I was done crying. I thought… maybe I’d finally made peace with everything. But peace was a lie, wasn’t it? A pretty word people threw around when they were too exhausted to fight with themselves anymore.I didn’t understand Nolan.Why was he holding onto a love that broke him in the first place?I was the one who betrayed first. I was the one who walked away. I left him standing in the wreckage of something we both swore would never fall apart.And yet… his heart kept finding its way back to me.It was unfair. It was so damn u
NOLAN POVI didn’t sleep that night either.Ben had gone quiet after we talked. Not the kind of quiet that begs for space—hers was the silence that came after a war. I’d seen it before, in myself. After the funeral. After the last fight with my father. After I realized I’d never really known the woman I was supposed to marry.But sitting next to her now, the city below us, her hands wrapped around a chipped mug of rooibos tea—I didn’t feel that same emptiness. I felt…raw. Awake. Like the earth had shifted beneath us and neither of us knew what to call this new terrain.She hadn’t cried. That scared me more than if she had.I wanted to say something, anything, but I knew better than to rush her grief. Ben had always carried pain like it was part of her bones—hidden, quiet, indestructible. She made suffering look graceful, which made it easy for people to forget she was still breaking beneath the surface.I hadn’t forgotten.Not this time.She fell asleep on the couch just before dawn,
BEN POVI told myself it would be quick.Sign the papers. Avoid eye contact. Leave.Nolan had arranged everything to minimize my presence—a quiet meeting room on the sixth floor, a private elevator, and a lawyer who barely looked up from her paperwork. It should've been easy. But the moment I stepped into New Way Group, the walls felt too high, the floors too polished, the air too judgmental.I hadn't been here since the fallout. Since my grandfather found out that I wasn't the innocent, obedient girl he'd raised, but the woman who had fallen in love with his son. Since he told me I was adopted, an outsider, a mistake. I told myself none of that mattered now. I was here for Ambrose. For our child.The pen felt heavier than it should've when I signed the documents. My hand trembled slightly, but I didn’t let anyone see. I was almost done when the door creaked open."Why wasn’t I told she was here?"That voice. That thunder wrapped in silk.I turned.There he was.Ernest Chiles. My gran
BEN POV The hospital was colder than I remembered. The air smelled like antiseptic and quiet dread. Three months pregnant, and already everything felt heavier—my body, my mind, my heart. The checkup had gone fine, the baby was growing well, but the doctor had looked at Nolan like he was the father. He didn't correct him. I didn't either.When we got home, Nolan parked the car in silence. He gave me a nod and a half-smile before heading to the office. It was always like that with him—measured, polite, almost too careful, like he was afraid any wrong move might shatter me completely. Maybe it would. I wasn't even sure who I was without Ambrose. Living with Nolan felt like standing in the echo of a life I almost had.The house was too quiet. My phone was within reach, so I called Clay. If anyone could distract me, it was him."Finally! I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me," he answered after the first ring."You wish," I said, curling into the corner of the couch. "Had my ch