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Chapter 51 — After That Night

Author: ChupiCha
last update publish date: 2026-07-01 08:45:36

-POV Derby

Morning light was relentless, cutting through the gap in the curtains to hit Derby square in the face. She didn’t move. She just stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the silence in the room. This wasn't the first time she’d woken up in a space that wasn't hers, but it felt different. The air was heavier.

Jordan was already up. He was standing by the window, shirt half-buttoned, watching the city wake up below. He didn’t turn around when she sat up, but she knew he heard the
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  • One Night, Wrong Man   Chapter 52 — You Changed the Rules

    -POV Derby Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating. It felt like the air itself was waiting for a bomb to drop. Derby stood by the mahogany desk, her hands buried deep in her coat pockets to hide the way her fingers were trembling. She refused to look at him. Every time her eyes landed on Jordan, she saw the man she knew—the man she was supposed to keep at arm’s length—and the stranger she was currently losing her mind over. "I need you to look at me, Derby." His voice was low, devoid of the corporate polish he usually wore like armor. It was raw, stripped back to something entirely too honest. That specific tone usually made her feel safe, but tonight, it only made her feel cornered. She turned slowly, not because she wanted to, but because the gravity of his presence wouldn't let her do anything else. "This isn't working anymore, Jordan. We aren't doing what we started. This is something else entirely." Jordan didn't flinch. He didn't offer a hollow excuse, and he certai

  • One Night, Wrong Man   Chapter 51 — After That Night

    -POV DerbyMorning light was relentless, cutting through the gap in the curtains to hit Derby square in the face. She didn’t move. She just stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the silence in the room. This wasn't the first time she’d woken up in a space that wasn't hers, but it felt different. The air was heavier. Jordan was already up. He was standing by the window, shirt half-buttoned, watching the city wake up below. He didn’t turn around when she sat up, but she knew he heard the sheets rustle. They both knew the game had changed. Pretending this was just a mistake—just another night to forget—was no longer an option. "You're awake," he said. His voice was steady, lacking the usual polish he used in boardrooms. It was raw. Derby pulled the duvet tighter around herself, her fingers tracing the fabric. "I should go." Jordan turned then. He didn't rush toward her; he just leaned against the frame, his gaze uncomfortably sharp. He wasn't the man who had let her walk away

  • One Night, Wrong Man   Chapter 50 — The Line Is Gone

    -POV Derby Derby stood by the window, her knuckles white as she gripped the fabric of her skirt, refusing to look at the man who had just dismantled the final remnants of her composure. Jordan hadn’t moved from the door. He didn't need to. His presence alone seemed to occupy every cubic inch of the space, pinning her in place. The casual, detached mask he usually wore was gone, replaced by something much more dangerous—a raw, unfiltered focus that made her skin prickle. "You're not answering," he repeated, his voice low and devoid of the polished veneer he saved for investors and the press. It was just the two of them, and for the first time, he sounded like a man who had finally run out of patience. Derby forced a swallow past the lump in her throat, her gaze still fixed on the horizon, not the man she’d spent the last few weeks trying to convince herself was a mistake. "Because there’s nothing left to say, Jordan. We crossed the line. Again. And we both know exactly what that ma

  • One Night, Wrong Man   Chapter 49 — He Doesn’t Let It Go

    -POV Derby Silence in the room wasn't empty; it was heavy, pressing against Derby’s chest until every breath felt like a conscious effort. Jordan stood just a few feet away, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him, but the distance between them felt like a canyon. He hadn’t moved when she tried to pull away. His grip on her wrist remained firm—not bruising, but immovable. It was a silent assertion of his presence, a refusal to let her frame this as a fleeting moment that meant nothing. Derby kept her gaze fixed on the sharp line of his collarbone, refusing to meet his eyes. If she looked at him, she knew the resolve she had spent the last hour meticulously building would crumble. She felt the ghost of his touch where he held her, a sensory anchor that made it impossible to pretend she was anywhere else. "You're not answering," he said. His voice was low, stripped of any polite veneer, vibrating with a raw, demanding edge. "There’s nothing to answer, Jordan,"

  • 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   Chapter 25 — The Breaking Point

    -POV Derby Life went back to normal faster than I wanted it to. Work gave me plenty of excuses to stay busy. Somehow I still managed to build my entire week around not ending up anywhere near the tenth floor. Avoiding him turned out to be surprisingly easy. Pretending I wasn’t thinking about

  • One Night, Wrong Man   Chapter 24 — The First Real Choice

    -POV Derby Somewhere below us, the gala was still going on. People were probably laughing, networking, making deals, completely unaware of what had happened upstairs. The problem was that I wasn’t sure I could go back downstairs pretending nothing had changed. Neither of us moved right away.

  • One Night, Wrong Man   Chapter 23 — The First Crack

    -POV Derby I didn’t expect to see him again so soon. But two days later, at the annual company gala, Jordan Vasquez walked into the ballroom with the kind of presence that made conversations pause mid-sentence. Judging by the way half the room turned toward the entrance, I wasn’t the only one

  • One Night, Wrong Man   Chapter 22 — No More Running

    -POV Derby I didn’t leave his penthouse that night. After everything that had happened between us that night, leaving stopped feeling as simple as walking out the door. We lay there in silence, his arm still around my waist, and for once neither of us seemed interested in breaking it. Somew

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