MasukDamian Pov The black Mercedes-Maybach rolled into the executive garage, and I stepped out before the driver could reach my door. The leather folder was already in my hand. I had a packed schedule ahead of me, but this needed to be handled first. I glanced at my watch and headed straight for the elevator. The doors opened, and I stepped inside. I pressed the button for the Design Department and watched the doors slide shut. The doors slid open quietly on the lower floor. Then I heard her voice. "You are an absolute lifesaver," she was saying, her voice bright, almost unfamiliar. "Thank you." I slowed as I saw Ariana standing a few paces away near the lounge entrance with a man in a tailored grey suit. He held two coffee cups, and as he handed one to her, he leaned closer, his shoulder nearly brushing hers. I stopped and looked at him. The same man from the gala. The one whose arm had been around Ariana's waist. Now he was standing in my corporate building, smiling down at
Ariana Pov The car moved through the rain, with only the wiper blades and the soft hum of the heater between us. I kept my eyes on the window. Water ran down the glass in thin, crooked lines, and the streetlights smeared into long gold streaks. His coat was still around my shoulders, heavy and warm, carrying that same musty scent from the garden. I pulled the collar closer before I could even stop myself. I glanced at him. He sat with his eyes on his phone, his thumb sliding once down the screen. He didn't look up. I turned back to the window and pressed my lips together. He had told me to cancel the ride, and I had canceled it. I hadn't even finished my sentence. My fingers tightened around the collar of his coat. The car rolled to a stop under the porch. The driver opened my door, and I stepped out, wiping a few drops of rain from my arm. Inside, the house was warm and quiet. I slipped the coat from my shoulders and held it out to him. He took it without a word. His fingers
Ariana Pov I was exhausted. My shoulders ached me, I slumped back in my chair with a long breath. Thank God the workday was finally over. Around me, everyone was packing up to leave. I tilted my head from one side to the other, working out the stiffness in my neck, then pressed my fingers to my tired eyes. Then I clicked through the last open window and shut down my computer, and the screen went black. I pulled my bag from its place beside my workstation and hooked the strap over my shoulder. It weighed heavily on my arm. I tugged the strap higher and turned to leave. The telephone on my desk began to ring. I stopped mid-step and looked back at it. I walked back, lifted the receiver, and pressed it to my ear. "Hello?" "Hello, I'm calling from the HR office, Miss Ariana." The voice on the other end was calm and even. "I'm calling about your sketch. HR asked me to let you know you'll get feedback by tomorrow afternoon, or evening at the latest." "Okay," I said. "No problem."
Vanessa Pov The city looked different than I remembered. Nineteen years had changed New York in ways I hadn't expected. Buildings had risen where I remembered empty lots. Streets I used to know had been rerouted, and the skyline seemed to stretch higher than it looked online. I sat in the back of the black sedan, one hand resting against the door as I watched the city move beyond the tinted glass. A familiar building slipped past the window. My eyes followed it until it disappeared from view. The sedan slowed as we approached the hotel. The moment the vehicle stopped beneath the grand entrance, two doormen stepped forward. One opened my door while the other moved toward the trunk. "Welcome back, Miss Whitmore." I stepped out and smoothed the sleeve of my coat. "Thank you." The doorman gave a slight nod and reached for my luggage. A hotel manager was already waiting near the entrance. "Good evening, Miss Whitmore. Your suite is ready. We've arranged your privat
Ariana PovI woke to pale light pushing through the curtains.I didn't remember how I'd fallen asleep. I lay there for a moment, my forearm across my forehead, the ceiling slowly coming into focus.I reached for my phone on the nightstand and tilted the screen toward me.OMG, it's Monday already.I threw the blanket off and swung my feet toward the floor, then slipped them into my slippers. The tiles were cold.I hurried into the bathroom and turned the shower on hard. I stood under it until steam fogged the glass, water drumming against my shoulders. By the time I stepped out, my head felt lighter than it had in days.I slipped into a cream-colored gown and smoothed the fabric down over my hips, making sure it sat properly.At the vanity, I gathered my hair into a ponytail and tugged two loose strands free at the front, letting them fall naturally along my cheeks.Then I crossed to the small glass-topped table I used for my designs.A simple chair sat tucked underneath it, with enoug
Ariana Pov I sat on the wooden swing hung from a tree, both legs swinging slowly back and forth, my sandals grazing the grass with each pass. The sky had turned the deep orange of early evening, the sun already dipping behind the branches above me, the first hint of dusk settling into the air. Somewhere near the fence, a bird called out twice and went quiet. The breeze moved through the leaves overhead, carrying the smell of the roses from the far end of the garden. I closed my eyes and let it settle over my skin, cool against my arms, the kind of quiet that made it easy to stop thinking for a moment. I'd always loved this, the garden at this hour, the air just cool enough to notice, nothing demanding anything of me. This Thursday would be my signature collection presentation. I was planning to submit the sketch on Monday for review, so HR could go through it first. If it passed, I'd have the rest of the week to bring the centerpiece to life. I let my head fall back against the sw







