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Chapter 11

Author: Jcater
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-07-05 06:30:48

The note hidden in Serena's champagne glass haunted her throughout the night. Phase Five begins now. She barely got any rest.

Restlessly, she paced the room, scrolling through every file she had on the Foundation.

Her fingers trembled as she reopened the secret drive hidden within the lining of her custom clutch.

Phase Five hadn't appeared in any of the records.

It was off-book, without documentation ... and that made it even more terrifying.

By sunrise, Serena was perched on her apartment rooftop, legs crossed, sketchpad in hand, gazing out at the skyline.

But she wasn't drawing; she was waiting.

Sure enough, Damien appeared just before eight.

He looked worn out, hollow. Dust coated his black coat as if he had walked through something burning.

She remained silent until he sat down across from her.

"What the hell is Phase Five?" she demanded.

Damien met her eyes. "It's what happens whe
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  • Selfish Romance    Chapter 22

    Serena froze.The garden exploded with light—phones flashing, voices rising, and reporters shoving forward. For a second, it didn’t feel real. Just noise, heat, panic.Then she saw her.Camille stood at the edge of the hedge, poised like a serpent in stilettos, phone held high as it streamed live. Her voice oozed with artificial sweetness.> “This is Camille Hawthorne, reporting live. Looks like our ‘perfect’ couple has something to hide. Stay tuned to find out what contract really holds them together.”Serena’s fingers tightened around Damien’s arm. “She’s going to ruin everything.”“Come on,” he said, already pulling her toward the hotel.Inside, chaos still buzzed, whispers trailing behind them as they ducked into an elevator. Serena stared at her reflection in the gold doors. Her lipstick was smudged. Her eyes were wide with panic.“She knows,” she said quietly.Damien’s voice was low

  • Selfish Romance    Chapter 21

    Serena stepped into her temporary studio apartment with nothing but a duffel bag, an exhausted heart, and the kind of silence that made your thoughts too loud to bear.The place was modest—just a kitchenette, a bed shoved against the wall, and a canvas by the window she'd started painting weeks ago but hadn’t touched since. She sank down onto the mattress and stared at her phone, lying face-up on the nightstand.No calls. No messages from Damien.She wasn’t sure which hurt more—that he hadn’t reached out or that she hadn’t wanted him to.The man she saw on the street still lingered in her mind. Had she imagined him? A trick of light and anxiety? Or was someone really watching her?Either way, she didn’t tell Ava. Didn’t tell anyone. Some fears were easier to carry alone.Still, the world refused to pause for her grief.Her inbox had exploded overnight—emails from reporters, bloggers, and influencers. Her name w

  • Selfish Romance    Chapter 20

    Damien’s penthouse gleamed with glass and steel, every surface polished to a mirror shine. The kind of place that showed you had it all—wealth, power, and control.But as Serena stood alone in that vast, empty room, the silence felt like a cage wrapped tight around her chest.She held the photo again—the one she’d found buried inside a stack of old files in Damien’s locked drawer. A little girl in a paint-splattered sundress, grinning crookedly at the edge of a playground. And several feet behind her, half-hidden in shadows… Damien.Her stomach twisted into knots.Coincidence? She didn’t believe in those anymore.Part of her wanted to confront him. To demand answers.But another part whispered that maybe there was some reason. Maybe it was all a terrible misunderstanding.Then she heard it.Damien’s voice muffled behind the door to his office.She pressed herself against the wall, heart poundi

  • Selfish Romance    Chapter 19

    Morning light filtered softly through the blinds, casting golden bars across Serena’s bare shoulder. She stirred beneath the sheets, the faint scent of smoke still clinging to her skin from the night before. Her muscles ached, a reminder of everything they'd survived—everything they hadn't yet.The mattress dipped beside her. She blinked, half-expecting another nightmare.Instead, it was Damien, holding a tray.Toast. Strawberries. Black coffee—just the way she liked it.“You cooked?” she mumbled, her voice hoarse from sleep.He gave a one-shoulder shrug, eyes unreadable. “I toasted.”A small, surprised laugh escaped her lips. It felt strange, foreign. Like her body wasn’t used to it anymore.She sat up slowly, brushing tangled hair behind her ear. The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was fragile, healing.Her smile faded. “I’m sorry, Damien. For... doubting you.”He didn’t flinch. Just

  • Selfish Romance    Chapter 17

    Serena didn’t sleep that night.She sat curled on the edge of the bed, knees drawn to her chest, a blanket wrapped around her like armour. The tablet in her lap glowed with soft blue light, casting ghostly shadows on the walls. She hadn’t moved in hours.Across the room, Damien sat at his desk, tapping keys on his laptop. He wasn’t pretending to work—he was giving her space. But every few minutes, his eyes flicked toward her.He didn’t push. He waited.Eventually, her voice cut through the quiet like glass.“My mother was one of them.”Damien paused. His fingers stilled.“I know,” he said softly. “I saw the file.”Serena’s eyes didn’t leave the screen. “She authorized it. Every test. Every injection. She stood there while I screamed. And then she wrote me that letter... like that made it okay.”Damien crossed the room and crouched in front of her, steady, quiet. His hands rested on his thighs,

  • Selfish Romance    Chapter 18

    Serena stared at her phone screen, the blinking cursor taunting her. We need to talk. I can’t do this anymore. She stared at the words until they stopped making sense. Then, she deleted them with a tight swipe and shoved the phone under her pillow like it burned. Her lie about the Montreal site festered in her chest like a slow poison. Part of her still clung to the hope that Damien wasn’t involved in Harbinger—that the initials “D.M.” were just coincidence. Noise. A misdirection meant to crack her from the inside out. But what if it wasn’t? She wandered into the living room. Damien was there, pacing, his voice low as he spoke into the phone. “I’ll take care of it,” he said. “I just need more time.” He turned the second he noticed her. “Hey. Couldn’t sleep?” She shook her head. “No.” Damien poured her a glass

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