Mornings belonged to me. Before the world remembered my name. Before the weight of expectations settled on my shoulders like a second skin. Before I had to be her—Sophia Moreau, the woman who built an empire from nothing.
In these quiet moments, as the city stretched awake beneath the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse, I allowed myself the luxury of stillness. A ritual. Black coffee, a deep inhale, the hum of the world just beginning outside.
Then, my armor clicked into place.
By the time I stepped into the sleek black car waiting outside my building, I was no longer just a woman—I was a force.
The morning passed in a blur of meetings, negotiations, decisions that had consequences far beyond what most people could comprehend. I thrived in it. This world of power, of sharp minds and sharper deals.
But today, something gnawed at the back of my mind.
Tonight, I had a gala to attend.
I hated these events. They were nothing more than a parade of egos, thinly veiled conversations masking power plays, men who measured their worth by the size of their bank accounts and women who wore their ambition like a designer label.
But I had promised.
Not because I wanted to. But because Charles Lemaire had asked.
Charles, who had been my father’s closest friend, the only man who had remained after my parents died. The only one who had treated me like something more than a commodity when the vultures had circled, waiting for the empire my father left behind to collapse under the weight of my inexperience.
I owed him.
So I would go. I would smile. I would endure.
Leah, my best friend and COO, had been gloating about it all morning.
“You’re going to behave,” she warned as I stepped into my office.
I scoffed, setting my coffee down. “I always behave.”
She gave me an incredulous look. “Sophia, last year at this same gala, you told a billionaire hedge fund manager that he was a walking liability and that you wouldn’t invest in his company even if he handed it to you for free.”
I shrugged. “I was right. His company tanked six months later.”
She sighed. “That’s not the point.”
I smirked. “Then what is?”
Leah exhaled dramatically. “The point is, for one night, try not to verbally eviscerate someone.”
I took a slow sip of my coffee, letting her words settle. Then, finally—
“No promises.”
Her groan followed me as I turned to my next meeting, already pushing thoughts of the gala to the back of my mind.
But hours later, as I slipped into a navy-blue dress that clung in all the right places and stepped into a waiting car, the irritation settled deeper in my chest.
I had no patience for tonight.
And I had no idea that before the night was over, my patience would be the least of my problems.
The moment I stepped into the ballroom, I felt it.
The shift. The invisible weight of attention.
I was used to being watched. Evaluated. The whispered speculation that followed me into every room—how I had built my company without my father’s legacy, how I had shattered the barriers of an industry dominated by men, how I had done it alone.
I was used to all of it.
But this?
This felt different.
A slow crawl of awareness down my spine. A quiet insistence.
My gaze swept the room, searching for the source, and then—
I saw him.
Travis Cole.
I knew who he was, of course. Anyone in the world of power and money did.
A businessman wrapped in mystery. The kind of man who moved in shadows, building an empire without ever revealing how. No scandals. No weaknesses. No one knew much about him, except that wherever he set his sights, he won.
And right now?
His sights were on me.
He stood by the bar, a glass of something dark in hand, his body language deceptively casual. But his eyes…
They were locked onto me.
I wasn’t sure what irritated me more—the fact that he was looking, or the fact that something inside me responded to it.
I didn’t do this.
I didn’t entertain men who thought they could dissect me with a glance.
And yet, before I could stop myself, I was moving.
The air between us shifted as I approached. He didn’t break his stare. If anything, his smirk deepened, like he had expected this. Like he knew I would come to him.
That alone made me want to turn on my heel and walk the other way.
Instead, I stopped in front of him, tilting my head slightly. “You’re staring.”
He didn’t even blink. “Am I?”
I let my gaze drop deliberately to his drink, then back up to meet his eyes. “If you’re looking for someone to charm tonight, you should set your sights elsewhere.”
Something flickered behind his smirk. Interest.
“Who says I’m here to charm?”
I arched a brow. “Aren’t you?”
He took a slow sip of his drink, the movement measured. Calculated. “Would it work?”
“Not a chance.”
His smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew.
“See, that’s just encouraging me.”
I exhaled through my nose, already regretting this. “Men like you are predictable.”
His voice dropped just enough to make the air feel heavier. “And yet, you came over here.”
I froze.
Just for a second.
Because he was right.
I had walked over here. I had engaged first.
And I hated that he had noticed.
I schooled my expression into something unreadable. “I like to confront things head-on.”
He tilted his head slightly, like he was considering that. “Good. So do I.”
I didn’t know what I expected him to say, but the directness of it sent something sharp through my chest.
And that was when I knew I needed to walk away.
I met his gaze one last time, steady and unshaken. Then I turned and left him standing there, his smirk still lingering in the air between us.
By the time I got home, I had already convinced myself he was irrelevant.
A moment of distraction, nothing more.
I stripped out of my dress, letting it pool onto the floor, and slipped into silk pajamas, trying to shake the lingering weight of his words.
I didn’t lose sleep over men.
And I wouldn’t start now.
But when morning came, as I stepped into my office, something stopped me in my tracks.
Because sitting in the lobby, leaning back in one of the chairs, dressed in that same brand of careless confidence, was him.
Travis Cole.
And for the first time in a long time—
I had no idea what was going to happen next.
Travis’s POVSome people build walls to keep others out.Sophia Moreau?She builds them so high even she can’t see over them.And yet, tonight—just for a moment—she let me inside.I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.I wasn’t the guy who stayed.I wasn’t the guy who gave a damn about what kept people up at night, what ghosts haunted them, what made them run themselves into the ground just to avoid their own thoughts.But Sophia?I was starting to realize I cared too much.And that was dangerous.She had fallen asleep hours ago, curled up on the couch, her breathing even, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion she had been fighting for days.I hadn’t meant to stay.But the moment she had whispered stay—that quiet, unguarded moment—I knew I wasn’t walking out that door.Not tonight.Not when she had finally let herself need something—even if it was just my presence.So I stayed.I sat in the armchair across from her, one leg stretched out, my fingers absently tracing the rim o
Sophia’s POVI should have made him leave.That’s what I always did.When people tried to reach me this time of year—when they called, when they knocked, when they cared—I shut them out.Because no one could fix this.No one could undo what had already been done.And no one could bear this weight for me.But Travis Cole was still sitting in my apartment.Not talking.Not pushing.Just there.And for some reason, I let him stay.The room was too quiet.The kind of silence that should have been comforting but wasn’t.Travis sat across from me, his posture easy, his expression unreadable. But his eyes—they weren’t blank. They weren’t detached.They were watching me.Like he was waiting.Like he was seeing something no one else had before.It made my skin itch.I shifted slightly, rubbing my hands against my arms."You’re wasting your time," I muttered.He tilted his head. "Am I?"I forced a humorless smile. "I’m not some damsel in distress, Cole. You don’t need to be here."He exhaled sl
Travis’s POVI had seen Sophia Moreau in a lot of different states.Sharp. Cold. Calculated. Amused, even, when she was toying with me in conversation.But I had never seen her like this.She stood in the doorway, barely holding herself upright, her skin paler than I’d ever seen it. Dark circles smudged beneath her eyes, her usually perfect posture slightly slumped, like even standing took effort.And she was pissed.Not the kind of anger she wielded in boardrooms—the kind that was controlled, intentional, sharpened into a weapon.No, this was different.This was the anger of someone who had been caught.I wasn’t sure what pissed her off more—the fact that I was here, or the fact that she wasn’t strong enough to throw me out."Why do you care?" she snapped.And fuck, if that didn’t hit me harder than it should have.I could have lied. Could have shrugged it off, turned it into a joke, given her the out she so clearly wanted.But I didn’t.Because I did care.And I didn’t know why.Twe
Sophia’s POVSome days, I wake up with perfect control.Everything in its place. My mind sharp, my focus unbreakable. The weight of responsibility sitting comfortably on my shoulders, a familiar burden I’ve learned to carry without complaint.And then there are days like today.Days where the ghosts of the past wake up before I do.Where the echoes of my parents' voices linger in my mind, trapped somewhere between memory and nightmare.Where I feel the weight of something heavy in my chest, something I can’t name, something that refuses to be ignored no matter how much I try to bury it.Today, I was already on edge before Travis Cole walked through my door.And the bastard had noticed.I leaned back in my chair, fingers tightening around the armrests as I watched him from across the room.He was still here.Comfortable as ever, like this was his office, his space, like he had every right to plant himself in my world without invitation.And worse? He was watching me.Not in the way men
Travis’s POVSome people hide behind walls.Sophia Moreau?She is the wall.Cold. Untouchable. The kind of woman who sharpens her words like weapons and wears power as effortlessly as most people wear their own skin.But today?Today, there was a crack.I saw it the second I walked into her office.For a fraction of a second—before she masked it, before she straightened her shoulders and narrowed those stormy eyes at me—something was off.She was tired. No, more than tired.She looked haunted.And I wanted to know why.I hadn't planned on seeing her again so soon.After our last conversation, I had every intention of letting her stew a little. Letting the intrigue settle, letting her wonder why I was here, what I wanted.But then, for reasons I didn’t entirely understand myself, I found myself back in my car, headed toward Moreau Dynamics.A man like me didn’t do coincidences.So what the hell was I doing here?Chasing a woman who had already made it clear she wanted nothing to do wit
Travis’s POVSome women are a challenge.Some women are a game.And then there’s Sophia Moreau.She wasn’t just untouchable—she was a fortress. Every glance, every word, every shift of her body language screamed one thing loud and clear: Don’t bother. You won’t get in.But here’s the thing.I’ve never been the type to walk away from a locked door.I left Moreau Dynamics with a slow smirk still tugging at my lips, her last words playing in my head on a loop."Stay out of my way, Cole."Right. Like that was ever going to happen.The drive to my next destination was smooth, the city unfolding around me in a blur of high-rises and flashing lights.By the time I pulled up to the private lounge where Lucas and Adam were waiting, I had already made my decision.The place was dimly lit, expensive as hell, and filled with the kind of people who had more money than sense. The usual.Lucas was the first to spot me, raising a whiskey glass in greeting from the corner booth. Adam leaned back in hi