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Chapter 48 — Almost Confession
publish date:
2026-06-28 08:23:11
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One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 48 — Almost Confession
-POV Derby Breathing was a luxury I couldn't quite afford as we broke apart. My forehead rested against his, both of us heaving in the quiet, climate-controlled air of the office. The storm outside had slowed to a rhythmic tapping against the glass, an indifferent backdrop to the wreckage we were making of the room—and each other. Jordan’s hands were still locked firmly onto my waist, his thumbs digging into the fabric of my blazer as if he were trying to memorize the exact shape of me. His eyes were dark, dilated, searching my face with a terrifyingly naked need that I hadn't expected to see on a man like him. "Derby," he murmured, his voice sounding raw, like he’d been shouting in a desert. I couldn't look away. My pulse was a frantic bird against the cage of my ribs. Everything I’d been holding back for the last few months—the late nights, the jealousy, the slow, agonizing realization that I was falling for a ghost of a man who belonged to someone else—it all felt like it was
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 47 - Don’t Look at Me Like That
-POV Derby Rain still hammered against the glass, but inside the suite, the air felt like it was ionizing, crackling with a static charge that made the hair on my arms stand up. Jordan hadn't moved his hands. They remained framed against my jaw, his palms warm and grounding, holding me in place while my heart hammered against my ribs like a caged bird. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice dropping to that low, raspy register that bypassed my brain and went straight to my nerves. I kept my eyes fixed on his throat, on the pulse point that was beating in time with mine. "I can't." Jordan said "Why?" "Because if I look at you," I whispered, the words catching on a jagged breath, "I’ll forget why I’m supposed to be angry. I’ll forget that you’re someone else’s future. I’ll forget that this room is just a temporary shelter for a mistake." He shifted, his fingers sliding into my hair, tugging gently until I was forced to tilt my head back. His eyes were dark, devoid of the cold, prof
One Night, Wrong Man Chaoter 46 — You Still Came Back
-POV DerbyRain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling glass of the forty-second-floor suite, turning the city lights into a blurred, weeping mess of neon. Standing in the center of the dark room, I stared at the reflection of the office in the window. The space felt colder tonight, or maybe that was just the hollow ache that had settled in my chest since the media brief in the courtyard.My bags were packed. They were sitting by the service elevator in my apartment, a half-finished resignation letter waiting on my laptop. I had come here to give him the final audit logs—the last of the data, the last of the project, the last of the excuses."You’re late," Jordan said.He wasn't sitting at his desk. He was standing by the heavy mahogany door, his coat damp, his hair slightly messed up by the wind. He hadn't turned the main lights on, leaving us in the dim, amber glow of the emergency exit signs and the flickering city below."I don't need to be on time anymore," I replied, my voice stea
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 45 — Jealous, This Time It Hurts
-POV Derby The glass corridor connecting the main office tower to the Grand Horizon executive pavilion always felt like walking through a greenhouse. By three in the afternoon, the sun hit the panes directly, throwing sharp, blinding squares of light across the polished concrete floor. It was hot, bright, and completely packed with corporate managers heading toward the weekend closing sessions. I walked with a heavy plastic crate clamped under my arms, filled with the final printed copies of the third-quarter integration audits. My shoulder muscles were tight, aching from a long day of data entry, but the skin on the back of my neck felt entirely different. It still carried that quiet, lingering memory of his fingers from last night—the slow, heavy warmth of his palm holding me against the leather sofa while the tower slept. *Derby.* He had whispered my name like it was an anchor, like he actually needed the glitch to survive the machine his father had built for him. I’d let mysel
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 44 — The First Real Touch
-POV Derby I sat still on the leather sofa, the digital tablet in my lap displaying a list of fuel-surcharge adjustments that had long stopped making sense. The take-out containers had been cleared away, and the amber light from the desk lamp threw a warm, quiet glow across the hardwood floor, stopping just short of our feet. Jordan hadn't moved back to his desk. He remained sitting on the adjacent section of the sofa, his long legs stretched out, his eyes fixed on the city lights blinking through the glass window. The sharp, restless energy that usually drove him to pace the room or check his inbox every three minutes had entirely faded. He looked quiet. Almost still. "You're staring, Derby," he murmured, not turning his head. The gravel in his voice was softer now, muffled by the late hour and the half-empty glass of whiskey sitting on the side table. "I'm looking at the logistics data," I lied, my voice flat but lacking its usual defensive edge. "The tablet is upside down," Jo
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 43 — Too Comfortable
-POV Derby The take-out cartons from the Thai place on 45th Street were scattered across the low glass coffee table, alongside three different printouts of the revised shipping manifests. It was almost ten at night. The cleaning crew down the hall had already finished their pass on the executive wing, leaving the forty-second floor in that deep, absolute quiet that usually signaled it was time to leave. Instead, I was sitting on the edge of the plush leather sofa, my legs tucked under me, laughing so hard my chest actually ached. "You did not say that to a federal auditor," I gasped, holding the paper cup of iced tea like a shield as I looked across the table at him. "Tell me you didn’t." Jordan was leaning back against the armrest of the heavy chair opposite me, his charcoal suit jacket draped over the back of his desk chair and his white sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had his glass of whiskey resting against his knee, the ice long melted, and for the first time since I’d kn
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 41 — Stay
-POV Derby The raw taste of the whiskey on his tongue was still burning in the back of my throat long after he pulled away. Jordan’s forearm stayed pressed flat against the painted concrete wall right above my shoulder, his massive frame creating a shadow that completely blocked out the pale fluo
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 40 — He Still Chooses to Stay
-POV Derby The industrial copier in the restricted alcove finally went quiet, its cooling fan letting out a long, mechanical sigh that felt entirely too relatable. I stacked the freshly printed compliance sheets into the cardboard file box, my hands functioning on pure muscle memory while my brain
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 38 — Tamara Steps In
-POV Derby The dining pavilion at the Grand Horizon was designed to look like an indoor conservatory, full of glass panels, massive white orchids, and enough sunlight to make everyone look like they had never worked a forty-hour week in their lives. By twelve-thirty, the room was packed. The noise
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 37 — You’re Mine (Without Saying It)
-POV Derby The logistics seminar in the main hall was turning into an absolute nightmare by eleven-thirty. The air conditioning in the pavilion was struggling against the heat of a hundred people packed into the tiered seating rows, and the volume in the room had escalated from a polite corporate
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