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If You Don’t
publish date:
2026-09-02 10:20:33**Tiffany’s Pov**
**twelve hours earlier**
“If you don’t get out of that chair in the next five minutes, I’m kidnapping you.
”
I didn’t bother looking up from my laptop.
“You say that every Friday.
”
“And one of these Fridays, I’ll mean it.
”
“You always mean it.
”
Molly sighed dramatically before dropping into the chair opposite my desk. The office had
emptied nearly an hour ago. Outside my floor to ceiling windows, Manhattan glowed beneath
the fading orange light of sunset,
Bennett Interiors remained illuminated by the fluorescent lights above us. Design
samples covered every available surface, fabric swatches, floor plans, paint palettes, and
coffee cups, far too many coffee cups.
“Tiffany.
”
“Hm?”
“You’ve been staring at the same kitchen rendering for fifteen minutes.
”
“I’ve been thinking.
”
“You’ve been spiraling.
”
I finally looked up.
“I’m fine.
”
“You’ve said that six times today.
”
“Because I am.
”
She folded her arms.
“The Harbor Heights contract.
”
I immediately looked away.
“I don’t want to talk about it.
”
“They chose Sterling Designs.
”
“I know.
”
“They didn’t choose them because they’re better.
”
“It doesn’t matter why.
”
“It matters to me.
” I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my temples.
Every rejection felt personal, not because my pride was bruised. Because every lost
contract meant another month of wondering how we would pay our employees. Another
month of pretending Bennett Interiors wasn’t standing on the edge of collapse.
“You need one night away from this place,
” Molly said gently.
“I don’t.
”
“You do.
”
“I have presentations to finish.
”
“They’ll still be there tomorrow.
”
“I have clients to call.
”
“They won’t answer tonight.
”
“I have”
“You have an invitation.
”
She reached into her handbag and placed a black envelope on my desk. The elegant
gold seal caught the light.
I frowned.
“What’s that?”
“The answer to your terrible mood.
”
“I’m not in a terrible mood.
”
She gave me a look.
“I was allergic to dust.
”
“Tiffany.
”
“
…Fine.
”
“You cried in the supply closet this afternoon.
”
She pushed the envelope closer.
“Open it.
”
I broke the wax seal, inside rested a thick cream colored invitation.
Foundation Annual Masquerade Gala.
”
“The Ashford
I blinked.
“No.
”
“You haven’t even finished reading.
”
“I don’t need to.
”
She snatched the invitation from my hands and read aloud.
“‘The Ashford Foundation
cordially invites Miss Tiffany Bennett to an evening celebrating architecture, design, and
charitable development.
’”
She grinned.
“Architecture.
”
I shrugged.
“So?”
“So every influential architect, developer, hotel owner, investor, and billionaire in New York
will be there.
”
“I don’t like billionaires.
”
“You’ve never met one.
”
“I’ve seen interviews.
”
She laughed.
“You’re judging an entire tax bracket.
”
“I’m judging their egos.
”
She leaned across my desk.
“You need clients.
”
“I know.
”
“You need investors.
”
“I know.
”
“You need one lucky break.
”
I stared at the invitation, she wasn’t wrong, and I hated admitting it. The Ashford
Foundation Gala wasn’t simply another party, it was networking disguised as elegance. Half
the city’s largest business deals were probably made over champagne at events exactly like
this.
“If I go,
” I said carefully,
“I’m going to talk about work.
”
“No.
”
“I’m absolutely talking about work.
”
“You are absolutely not.
”
“Molly.
”
“You are taking one evening off.
”
“I don’t know how.
”
Her smile softened.
“I know.
”
Silence settled between us. Finally she spoke again.
something that wasn’t for Bennett Interiors?”
“When was the last time you did
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. She waited, still nothing.
“I don’t remember,
” I admitted.
“Exactly.
”
She stood and clapped her hands together.
“I’m still working.
”
“No.
”
“Go home.
”
“Molly”
“I’m your assistant.
”
“Yes.
”
“Technically, that means you report to me.
”
I laughed.
“I don’t think that’s how employment works.
”
“It is today.
” She reached over, closed my laptop, and picked it up before I could stop her.
“Molly!”
“No work.
”
“Give that back.
”
“Nope.
”
“I’ll fire you.
”
“You adore me too much.
”
“
…That’s true.
”
“I know.
”
She smiled triumphantly.
“What?”
“Meet me downstairs in an hour.
”
“Wear the navy dress.
”
“My navy dress?”
“The one you keep saying is too fancy.
”
“It is too fancy.
”
“Perfect.
”
“I don’t even have a mask.
”
She pulled one from her bag, it was deep sapphire blue, with tiny crystals shimmered
around the edges.
“I bought it yesterday.
”
“You planned this.
”
“For three weeks.
”
“You are unbelievable.
”
“I prefer prepared.
” She walked toward the door before pausing.
“And Tiffany?”
“Yes?”
“Tonight…
” Her smile became surprisingly gentle.
”
company.
“
…don’t be the woman trying to save a
I frowned.
“Then who am I supposed to be?”
She thought for a second.
“Just Tiffany.
”
*****
An hour later, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me in my apartment mirror.
The navy silk gown hugged my figure without being overly dramatic, my brunette hair fell in
soft waves around my shoulders. The sapphire mask transformed me into someone…
different, and more confident.
It was strange how hiding half my face somehow made me feel less exposed. The ride to
the Royal Crescent Hotel took twenty minutes, my stomach twisted tighter with every
passing block, luxury cars lined the entrance, photographers crowded behind velvet ropes,
as different women stepped out wearing designer gowns worth more than my annual salary.
“I definitely don’t belong here,
” I muttered.
Molly linked her arm through mine.
“Neither does imposter syndrome.
”
“I hate when you’re wise.
”
“I know.
”
The ballroom doors opened, my breath caught. It looked less like a hotel and more like a
palace, crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, an orchestra played near the marble
staircase. Hundreds of guests drifted across the ballroom wearing masks of every
imaginable color.
No names, no reputations, and no expectations. For one evening… everyone was simply
another stranger. Maybe… that wasn’t so bad. A waiter offered us champagne, I accepted a
glass more for something to hold than something to drink.
“I’ll be right back,
” Molly whispered.
“Where are you going?”
“I spotted dessert.
”
“You’ve been here thirty seconds.
”
“I have priorities.
”
Before I could answer, she disappeared into the crowd, I laughed under my breath. Some
things never changed. Left alone, I wandered slowly through the ballroom, admiring every
carefully designed detail.
The floral arrangements, the lighting, and the elegant balance between modern
architecture and historic luxury. Whoever designed this space understood that beauty wasn’t
just something people saw, it was something they felt.
Lost in thought, I stepped through a pair of open French doors leading onto a quiet
balcony. Cool evening air brushed against my skin, the sounds of the ballroom faded behind
me. For the first time all day… I could breathe.
I rested my hands on the marble railing and stared out over Manhattan. The city glittered
beneath the night sky like scattered diamonds, they were beautiful.
“You look like someone who’s hiding.
” The deep masculine voice behind me sent a shiver
racing down my spine.
Slowly… I turned. A man wearing a silver mask stood in the doorway, he was tall, broad
shouldered, and dressed in an impeccably tailored black tuxedo. He wasn’t looking at the
skyline, he was looking at me. And somehow…
It felt as though he’d been searching for me all evening.
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Signed, Sealed, Seduced? Look Away
TIFFANYI could not look away from the page.My signature.On a document I had never seen.On an agreement I had never signed.And a message asking me to find out where Damian had been three months before our wedding.Slowly, I lifted my eyes.Damian was staring at the same page.His face had gone completely still.“Where were you?” I asked.He didn’t answer immediately.“Three months before our wedding,” I repeated.“Tiffany.”“Where were you?”His jaw tightened.“I don’t remember.”I laughed once.It wasn’t funny.“You don’t remember?”“It was months ago.”“You remember everything.”His eyes met mine.“You remember business meetings from years ago. You remember contracts, dates, numbers, people’s names.”I pointed at the document.“And now you don’t remember where you were when someone forged my signature?”“I said I don’t remember.”The words hit harder than they should have.I stepped back.“Did you know about this?”“No.”“Did you know Bennett Interiors was being transferred?”“N
Signed, Sealed, Seduced? Spoke My
TIFFANYNobody spoke.My name.On the file.Not Bennett Interiors.Not Ashford Group.Not the merger.Me.I stared at Ethan.“Why would an agreement involving a company be filed under my name?”“I don’t know.”Damian took a step forward.“Where is it?”“Richard’s private archive.”“Take me there.”Ethan hesitated.“It’s secured.”Damian’s expression hardened.“Then open it.”“Damian—”“Now.”Ethan nodded.I followed them.The archive was in a private section of the penthouse I had never seen before.A hidden door opened behind one of the bookshelves.I stopped.“You have a secret archive?”Damian glanced at me.“My grandfather does.”“That’s worse.”He almost smiled.Almost.But the tension in the room swallowed it.We walked inside.There were rows of locked cabinets, folders, boxes and documents.Ethan moved toward one of the cabinets.“Here.”He pulled out a thick file.The label was simple.TIFFANY BENNETT.My stomach turned.Damian reached for it.I grabbed his wrist.“Wait.”He
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