I had always known that running a company like Hermosa Group would be difficult. But knowing something and experiencing it firsthand were two completely different things.The moment I officially stepped into the role of chairwoman, my life transformed into a never-ending cycle of stress, responsibilities, and expectations. There was no room for hesitation, no space for failure. Every decision I made affected thousands of employees, millions of dollars, and the legacy my father had built from the ground up.And the pressure was suffocating me.Meetings piled up before I could even process the last one. Board members scrutinized my every move, some still skeptical that I was ready for this role. Investors were watching closely, waiting to see if I would be a worthy successor. On top of that, new contracts were being finalized, requiring my approval. Every document needed to be reviewed, every business deal carefully analyzed.But that wasnโt the worst part.The worst part was the way ev
The storm hit harder than I ever expected.I had been fighting battle after battle, proving my worth as the new chairwoman of Perez Group, but nothing could have prepared me for this.Because this time, the mistake was mine.A hundred billion dollars.Gone.Just like that.I sat frozen in my office, staring at the numbers flashing on my screen. My hands felt cold, my heartbeat was erratic, and my mind refused to process what had just happened.I clicked through the files again, reading every detail of the deal I had approved just weeks agoโthe one that was supposed to be a game-changer for Perez Group.Instead, it was turning into a disaster.It had all seemed so promising. A massive investment in a new tech startup, one that had been projected to dominate the market in the next few years. I had been convinced that it was the right moveโan aggressive expansion, a statement that Perez Group was evolving.I had pushed for it.I had signed off on it.And now?The startup collapsed overni
By the next morning, the damage control operation was in full swing.Brent had compiled a detailed report of our remaining assets, while Chelsea had managed to set up an emergency meeting with some of our most powerful investors.The board might have doubted me, but I wasnโt about to let this company collapse under my leadership.I stood at the head of the Perez Group executive conference room, dressed in a sharp black suit, my chin lifted in defiance.The air in the room was thick with tension.Seated before me were some of our biggest stakeholders, investors who had trusted me with their money. Investors who, after the billion-dollar loss, were now questioning whether that trust was misplaced.I refused to let them see how much their doubt shook me.If I wanted to fix this, I had to show them confidence, even if I didnโt fully feel it myself.*****"Ladies and gentlemen," I began, my voice clear and steady, "I wonโt stand here and make excuses for what happened. Perez Group has suff
I met Lorenzo at an exclusive lounge in one of his high-end hotels.The moment I walked in, he was already waiting for me, his signature smirk in place, a glass of whiskey in his hand."You're late," he said, his tone laced with amusement.I ignored him and sat down across from him."Let's get to the point," I said coolly. "I need investors. You have connections."Lorenzo leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "And what do I get in return?"I swallowed, already knowing what was coming."Partnership," I said reluctantly. "A seat at the table. Limited control."His dark eyes gleamed with interest. "Limited?""Iโm not handing over the company, Lorenzo," I said firmly.He chuckled. "Oh, Demi. Thatโs what I love about you." He swirled his drink before taking a sip. "You walk into the lionโs den, but you still think you can tame the beast.""I can," I shot back, refusing to let him see my hesitation.Lorenzo leaned back, studying me. "Alright. I'll consider it."It wasnโt a yes, b
Every fiber of my being screamed no.Jeff Ortega was the last person I wanted to be tied to again.But I wasnโt just Demi Perez anymore.I was the chairwoman of Perez Group.And right now, my company was drowning.I sucked in a breath, ignoring the way Jeff's smirk made my skin crawl.โWhat exactly does this โpartnershipโ entail?โ I asked, keeping my voice steady.Jeff leaned forward, his dark eyes gleaming. โSimple. You and I run the merger together. Equal shares. Equal power. No buyout, no takeoverโjust you and me, like old times.โI almost laughed at that.Like old times?The old times where he manipulated me? Lied to me? Betrayed me?I hated him.But I hated losing even more.And if I refusedโฆLorenzo Cruz would win.I refused to let that happen.I exhaled sharply and lifted my paddle.โThe Perez Group accepts your offer,โ I said.The room erupted.***I felt Chelsea stiffen beside me.She turned, her eyes wide. โDemiโฆ are you sure?โNo.But I had to be.Jeff grinned like the bast
I needed coffee.And maybe a stronger escape route from my reality.The past few weeks had been absolute hell. The company was still recovering from the losses, the board was breathing down my neck, and Jeff Ortega was slithering his way into every aspect of my business, just waiting for the perfect moment to tighten his grip.So, when Chelsea got called into an urgent meeting and I found myself with an unexpected break, I did the first thing that made senseโI ran to a cafรฉ nearby.The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft hum of background chatter were a much-needed distraction.I exhaled, stepping in line.Finally, a moment of peace.And then, his voice cut through the air.โDidnโt expect to see you here, cariรฑo.โI froze.Of all the places in this city, of all the cafรฉs in this blockโwhy the hell was Jeff Ortega here?I turned slowly, my gaze locking onto his smirking face.โGreat,โ I muttered under my breath. โJust what I needed.โJeff stood just a few feet away, hands casua
I sat there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the spot where Jeff had just been, my mind tangled in a web of disbelief.What the hell just happened?A part of me wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it allโJeff Ortega, the man who had once thrown away our marriage like it meant nothing, was now offering me a deal that required me to move in with him again.Why?What was his real angle?I curled my fingers around my coffee cup, trying to steady myself. My heart was pounding, and my emotions were swinging between anger, confusion, and something else I refused to name.Jeff wanted me back under his roof?The same man who had once signed the divorce papers without hesitation?The same man who had walked away as if I had been nothing more than a passing chapter in his life?I clenched my jaw.It didnโt make sense.And the worst part?I didnโt want to ask him why.Something about that questionโabout admitting my curiosityโfelt too dangerous.I didnโt want to give Jeff the satisfacti
I had barely gotten any rest in the past few days. Between my fatherโs condition, the chaos at Perez Group, and Jeffโs relentless interference, I felt like I was suffocating.As I sat beside my fatherโs hospital bed, I watched his peaceful, sleeping face. He looked so frail, a far cry from the powerful businessman I had always known him to be. Seeing him like this made my heart ache.I reached for his hand, gripping it gently.โDad,โ I whispered, my voice trembling, โI know youโd probably scold me if you were awake right now. Youโd tell me I should be at the company instead of hovering over you. Butโฆ I just donโt know what to do anymore.โThe weight of my failures pressed down on my shoulders like a boulder.The company was crumbling. Investors were pulling out. Lorenzo Cruz was circling like a vulture, and Jeffโฆ Jeff was forcing me into a corner I never wanted to be in.And now, I was running out of options.Just as I was lost in thought, my phone buzzed violently in my hand. I sighe
It was raining again.Not the soft, romantic kind of rain. The soak you through your bones, make you late to everything, gray-for-days kind.Jeff hated the rain.Which was why I was surprised when I got a text that afternoon:"Be ready in 15. Wear something you can get muddy in."I stared at the message like it had come from an alien.Then again, Jeff had beenโฆ different lately.Softer.Less guarded.Like he was trying. Really trying.So, I tugged on my oldest jeans, shoved my hair into a messy braid, and waited.Fifteen minutes later, his truck pulled up, tires hissing against the wet pavement. I ran out, ducking into the passenger seat with a yelp as a sheet of rain chased me inside.โYou look like a drowned cat,โ he said with a grin.โYou look like someone whoโs about to explain what weโre doing driving into a storm.โHe just handed me a thermos of coffee and said, โTrust me.โWe drove for over an hour. Through back roads and winding trails that made my stomach flip. The farther we
It had been two days since the photo.Two days since the box. Since the kiss. Since we sat in the middle of his living room floor, surrounded by scraps of his past, and decidedโquietly, stubbornlyโthat we were worth salvaging.And for a little while, it felt like we were okay.Better than okay, even.He made coffee just the way I liked it. I left a playlist on repeat that I knew he secretly loved but pretended to hate. He kissed the side of my neck when he thought I was asleep. I pretended not to notice, because pretending was easier than admitting I still melted when he did that.But under it all, something buzzed.Something unsaid.A wordless ache living in the spaces between our sentences.Thatโs the thing about relationshipsโwe talk about the fights, the makeup sex, the milestones. But no one talks about maintenance. No one talks about how hard it is to just keep showing up.And maybe we were showing up for each other now.But what if one of us stopped again?The unease really sta
The next few weeks were a dance of small things.Late night conversations. Little confessions. Fighting over what movie to watch. Laughing until my stomach hurt. Crying when the weight got too heavy and letting him hold me through it.It wasnโt perfect.Sometimes I still flinched.Sometimes he still said the wrong thing.But we were learning.Learning how to be us without pretending the past didnโt exist.Learning that love isnโt about erasing scarsโitโs about tracing them with reverence.One night, months later, after too much wine and too much laughter, Jeff pulled me close and said against my hair:โI donโt want a clean slate with you, Demi. I want the messy one. The one with mistakes and lessons and a thousand second chances. I want the real thing.โI smiled, my heart aching with something fierce and beautiful.โYou already have it,โ I whispered back.And for the first time in what felt like forever, I knew it was true.Love wasnโt a single moment of forgiveness.It was a thousand
The evening air hit me like a slap the second I stepped out of Jeffโs condo.Sharp. Cold. Unforgiving.I kept walking, barely aware of the streets, the familiar cracks in the sidewalks, the faint hum of the city coming alive for the night. I walked because standing still meant feeling everything at once, and right now, that felt unbearable.The photo burned in my mind. Stella's hand in his. Her smile. His.Closure, he had said. But how many versions of closure could one person have before it stopped being closure and started being something else entirely?I found myself at the small park three blocks away without realizing it. I collapsed onto a bench, wrapping my arms around myself, willing the tightness in my chest to ease.It didnโt.Because this wasnโt just about a photograph.It was about the small cracks in the foundation we were trying to rebuild. Tiny fractures that, left ignored, would one day split wide open and swallow us whole.And God, I was so tired of trying to be the o
Around noon, I found a note taped to my computer monitor. Simple, clean handwriting. I didnโt need to ask who it was from."Dinner. Your place. 7PM. You donโt have to say anything. Just let me try. โJ"I stared at it for a long time.It wasnโt a plea. It wasnโt a demand.It was... a hope.A quiet one. One I hadnโt earned yet. One I wasnโt sure I could accept.But when seven oโclock rolled around, I was home. I had lit candles. Put on soft music. Worn something that wasnโt just lounge clothes.And I waited.At 7:02, there was a knock.I opened the door, and there he wasโholding a bag of takeout from my favorite Thai place, rain in his hair, uncertainty in his eyes.โHi,โ he said softly.โHi,โ I replied.He stepped inside, and we moved through the motions like a dance we hadnโt forgotten. Plates. Chopsticks. Steam curling from cartons. But the real heat in the room wasnโt from the food.It was the tension.I finally broke it.โWho was that message from?โ I asked, voice even but my heart
I didnโt go far. Just to the small park down the block from Jeffโs condo unitโthe one with the crooked benches and a fountain that hadnโt worked since spring. I sat there, my coat tight around me, watching the early evening swallow the sky whole.I didnโt cry. Not really.I was too tired for tears. Too wrung out from constantly stitching together the pieces of us, only to watch them come loose again.I pulled my phone out, stared at the blank screen. No texts. No calls. And maybe that was the point. Jeff had said he wouldnโt stop trying, but he hadnโt come after me. Not this time.Maybe he was learning to give me space. Or maybe he was just as exhausted as I was.A gust of wind tore through the branches above, scattering brittle leaves across my boots.Why does love feel like this sometimes?Not soft and soothing, but raw. Like walking barefoot on broken glass, hoping every step doesnโt cut too deep. Hoping the bleeding stops before the next fight.But despite everything, I didnโt wan
Around noon, I found a note taped to my computer monitor. Simple, clean handwriting. I didnโt need to ask who it was from."Dinner. Your place. 7PM. You donโt have to say anything. Just let me try. โJ"I stared at it for a long time.It wasnโt a plea. It wasnโt a demand.It was... a hope.A quiet one. One I hadnโt earned yet. One I wasnโt sure I could accept.But when seven oโclock rolled around, I was home. I had lit candles. Put on soft music. Worn something that wasnโt just lounge clothes.And I waited.At 7:02, there was a knock.I opened the door, and there he wasโholding a bag of takeout from my favorite Thai place, rain in his hair, uncertainty in his eyes.โHi,โ he said softly.โHi,โ I replied.He stepped inside, and we moved through the motions like a dance we hadnโt forgotten. Plates. Chopsticks. Steam curling from cartons. But the real heat in the room wasnโt from the food.It was the tension.I finally broke it.โWho was that message from?โ I asked, voice even but my heart
By Monday, we were back in the city.Jeff dropped me off at my place, and though we kissed goodbye with a promise to see each other soon, something lingered between usโsomething unspoken and tense, like a storm hovering just beyond the horizon.I tried to shake it off as I stepped into my apartment. I unpacked slowly, letting the quiet settle around me. But my thoughts refused to sit still.Why now? Why was Stella suddenly trying to reappear? And why did Jeff hesitate before telling me?It wasnโt fairโheโd done so much to regain my trust. Heโd been showing up, loving me in all the right ways. But one whisper from the past, and the walls Iโd slowly let fall started climbing back up.I turned on some music, something soft, just to quiet the noise inside my head. And thatโs when my phone buzzed.It was a message. From an unknown number.Unknown: "You can believe him if you want. But you should know he came back to me once before. Right after the first time you left."I stared at the scre
Thereโs something strangely intimate about folding laundry with someone you love. Not the kind of love thatโs still wrapped in red ribbons and candlelit dinners, but the kind that shows up in the quiet domesticity of Sunday afternoonsโbarefoot, soft music in the background, mismatched socks everywhere.Jeff held up one of my oversized sweaters, the sleeves drooping like tired arms. โThis still smells like that coconut shampoo you use.โI glanced up from the pile of towels. โI havenโt used that shampoo in months.โโMust be haunted,โ he smirked, then tossed it gently to my side of the bed.I laughed, but it came with a soft ache. This was good. Easy. Comfortable. Almost too comfortable.Maybe thatโs why it blindsided me when the tension returnedโsharp and unexpected like stepping on glass in a room you thought was safe.It happened that evening.We were cleaning out the hallway closet when Jeffโs phone buzzed on the console table. Once. Twice. Three times.He didnโt reach for it.I woul