เข้าสู่ระบบBy the time Davis got to work, the ache from the morning had hardened into something sharp and reckless.
It was the kind of ache he recognized too well. It settled into him the way neglect always had, carving out a familiar hollow in his chest. He had learned long ago that when something hurt and refused to leave, the best way to survive it was to dress well, smile wider, and keep moving.
The glass walls of the Dylan Corps tower reflected the man he had learned to be—tailored suit, unbothered stride, charming smile that came easily even when his heart felt anything but. What it did not show was the boy who had once waited by the window for a father who never came home, or the teenager who learned that silence from a parent could echo louder than shouting.
People greeted him as he walked past, many with admiration. Davis responded effortlessly, the way he always did. A nod here. A brief smile there. A joke tossed lightly over his shoulder. He made it look easy because it was easy. Attention had always come to him without effort.
Carefree. Untouchable.
If only they knew.
The truth was, Davis had grown accustomed to absence. When his father left, the house had grown big, too quiet. His mother, forced into survival mode, buried herself in work, in meetings, in numbers and negotiations. Love became practical.
Thank God for good looks. Thank God for social status. Thank God for a smile that made people want to stay. That is how he distracted himself.
“Oh, Sir, thank goodness you are here.” Amber, his secretary walked briskly to his side as he walked through the vast company hall towards the elevator. "Your Sir, you have a meeting with Terra Textiles at 2:30. We had to be sure you had reviewed their proposals.” She paused in her speech as if she suddenly remembered the important question. " Where have you been? You are not usually this late.“
Amber had been his secretary for three years, long enough to see through his moods and short enough to still find him amusing. They were friends—and he knew she was asking out of genuine concern. She had seen him on good days and worse ones. She had watched women come and go without judgment. She knew the difference between distraction and damage.
“I went to see Elena today. She wants us to take a break from our relationship."
Amber gasped. “How dare she."
Davis shrugged indifferently as he walked, hands sliding into his pockets. “Said something about wanting to focus on her career and all of that. I really don't think I care.”
It was a lie, of course. But lies had always been easier than explanations. Caring meant vulnerability, and vulnerability was something he reserved for people who stayed. Elena, apparently, was no longer certain she would.
Amber clicked her tongue. “Ouch. What is her issue really?”
Davis shrugged. In truth, he was more thankful that her abrupt announcement wasn't in a public space. The Dylan name carried weight—and scrutiny. For some reason his mother had always been keen on him being as private as possible. The press were quick to send whatever news they could get, and a crack in his engagement would make delicious headlines.
Privacy was a luxury he could afford. Emotion was not.
“On the brighter side, now that she is preoccupied with her job and her boss, I think I should do well to attend my cousin's forthcoming book launch."
“Ah," Amber smiled in agreement. “You should. Go out, have fun and clear your mind after we close this deal."
“I don't plan to show up alone."
Amber studied him for a moment. “You want me to find you a date.”
“I want you to find me some one to accompany me since Elena won't be available."
“A real date or a distraction?” she asked pointedly.
He smirked. “Is there a difference?”
She shook her head with a small laugh. “Well, you are Davis Dylan. You can get any girl you want.”
“Elena has me questioning my charms these days."
Amber smirked. “I make a good date.”
“I'm not showing up with my secretary.”
“What about Ms. Steves from Advertising?”
“She has a lot on her plate."
“Rose? The new intern?"
“She needs to focus on her internship, not on parties.”
Amber rolled her eyes. “Okay… Wendy?”
She just got married.
“Chris, her assistant?”
Davis grimaced. “She has a jealous girlfriend.”
Amber sighed dramatically as he reached the elevator door. “Fine. I'll keep looking.”
“Thank you.” He said after her as she went towards the next one.
The elevator pinged softly, its doors sliding open with mechanical obedience. Davis stepped inside—hands in pockets, expression cool, posture relaxed. It was a familiar performance. One he had perfected to hide the restlessness beneath his skin.
Inwardly, his thoughts churned. Part of him hoped Elena would call. That she would reconsider, apologize, reassure him that he still mattered. Another part hoped she wouldn’t—so he could justify whatever came next without guilt. He had always filled emptiness with people. Tonight would be no different.
Just as the doors began to close, a blur of peach and denim sprinted toward him.
Movement caught his attention first. Color second.
A young woman lunged forward with a pink lunch bag clutched tightly to her chest, as though it were the most important thing in the world. Her black curly ponytail bounced wildly behind her, strands escaping to frame her face. Her eyes darted around in panic, wide and expressive, clearly afraid she had missed her chance.
Davis instinctively slid his suitcase between the doors, stopping them just in time.
She stumbled inside—straight into him.
Soft breasts pressed against his chest as she nearly toppled forward. The contact was brief but electric, startling him more than he cared to admit. Davis grabbed her elbows firmly,
steadying both her body and his rapidly sliding self-control.
For a moment, time slowed.
"Dad, he was about to leave," Chelsea protested, her voice tight with exasperation."Oh, sorry," Evans stammered, his gaze darting awkwardly between his daughter and Davis. The air in the narrow hallway was suffocatingly dense."I'd like to stay for coffee, sir. Thank you very much," Davis said firmly, his deep voice leaving no room for argument as he deliberately ignored Chelsea’s burning glare.Before Chelsea could fire back another refusal, a soft, preliminary purr echoed from the back bedroom, rapidly escalating into a full-throated, earsplitting shriek. The peaceful nap was officially over. Evans let out a quiet curse and quickly dashed down the hall to retrieve his granddaughter.Chelsea moaned in frustration, dropping her chin toward her chest. Beside her, Davis felt the sharp edge of his defiance instantly evaporate, replaced by a sudden, violent thrumming in his throat at the sound of the infant's distress.Moments later, Evans emerged from the hallway cradling a plump, red-f
After hours of inconsolable shrieking, little Susanne had finally succumbed to exhaustion. Evans had gently tucked her into her wooden cot, smoothing the soft blanket over her small shoulders before creeping back out to the kitchen.Chelsea sat at the small kitchen table, closed her eyes slowly, and inhaled the quiet air. These were the grueling, invisible hours where being a single mother dragged her straight to the precipice. Her face felt tight, stiffened by dry streaks of tears. Crying alongside her daughter was often all she could do when the colic flared, leaving her feeling utterly clueless and pathetically helpless.The silence settling over the shingled cottage was a pure, unadulterated bliss. She was going to give it ten minutes—just ten quiet minutes to let Susanne sink into deep sleep—before she changed into her uniform and left for her night shift. She knew how incredibly lucky she was that Eugene was her boss, granting her an extraordinary level of flexibility that no co
The sharp hiss of the pneumatic doors announced the stop, and Davis stepped down from the coast liner, the cool damp air of the evening cutting through his clothes. The bus rattled off into the twilight, leaving him on the curb with a handful of other weary passengers.He took a slow breath, pulling his hoodie tight around his neck. For a man who was used to black-car services and private drivers, riding public transit in a small town was a stark reality check. But keeping a low profile was necessary.....Was it? Chelsea had already spotted him—worse, she’d slept with him, played him like a fool, and slipped out before dawn. But if he started driving high-end rental cars around her quiet neighborhood, she would go to ground completely. He had to stay invisible until he was ready to strike.As he walked down the dimly lit pavement toward the guest house, his mind betrayed him, looping back to the night before. God, she was beautiful. The memory of her skin beneath his hands, the way s
The morning light cut through the thin hotel curtains like a pale blade, burning away the lingering shadows of the night. Chelsea’s eyes snapped open.Beside her, Davis was still deeply asleep, his broad chest rising and falling in heavy, rhythmic cycles. The sharp, bitter scent of stale scotch clung to his skin. He wouldn't be waking up anytime soon—the five shots of Hungarian liquor, combined with the absolute physical exhaustion of the night, had guaranteed a heavy hangover.This is your chance to escape, her mind screamed.She crept out from beneath the heavy duvet, slipping silently onto the cold floor. She gathered her discarded clothes scattered across the rug—her shirt, her jeans, her boots—and pulled them on with trembling, frantic haste. Every creak of the floorboards sent a sharp spike of adrenaline straight to her chest. If she left now, she could get to her father and her little girl, pack their bags, and vanish into another sleepy town before Davis even managed to pull h
"I'm so sorry, Miss Chelsea," the tired young night clerk said with a sympathetic grimace behind the hotel counter. "The storm warning brought in a rush of travelers. We’re completely filled up tonight.""That's fine, Scott," Chelsea said smoothly, hiding the spike of tension in her jaw. "Just give me my room key, please."She took the brass key card, turning to look at Davis, who was leaning heavily against the oak railing of the lobby stairs, looking thoroughly wrecked."I'll lend you my suite for the night," she said softly, reaching out to catch his elbow to steady him. "I won't be staying in it tonight anyway."Davis let out a hollow, breathy sound that might have been a scoff, allowing her to guide him up the narrow staircase. The hotel was a small, creaky affair, brimming with mid-century charm—tight stairwells, brass fixtures, and a faint smell of aged cedar and sea salt. Chelsea moved with an acute, trembling sense of urgency that didn't match her soft voice."Must be... rea
It felt like a quenched fire finding life again just when you were sure you had snuffed out the very last ember. Inside the cramped, wood-paneled warmth of The Cheryl Pub, the low hum of the evening rush felt miles away, drowned out by the thudding of her own pulse against her ribs.There he sat.In a faded, charcoal-gray hoodie that hid the sharp breadth of his shoulders, a heavy glass of scotch clutched in his long fingers, Davis looked like an apparition dragged straight out of the life she’d burned to the ground twelve months ago. His lips were parted, his piercing blue eyes wide with a staggering mix of exhaustion, disbelief, and raw vulnerability.How did he find me? Why now?Panic clawed at her throat, a suffocating, instinctual terror that threatened to strip away her composure. She couldn't run—not right this second. He had seen her. If she bolted now, he’d chase her, and if he chased her, he’d follow the breadcrumbs straight to the tiny, shingled cottage three miles up the c
The party ended the way all things did for Davis—too slowly for his liking.By the time the last applause faded and the final copy of Fire was signed, Davis’s smile had tightened into something practiced and hollow. He stood beside Chelsea as flashes popped and congratulations poured in, nodding, s
As they settled into the luxurious seats, Chelsea realized that Davis wasn't with them. "Is… Davis coming later?" she asked Amber, trying to hide her disappointment."He's meeting you at the event," Amber replied, smiling. "But first, we're going to get you ready for the night. You're going to look
The words hit like a slap. “What?” Chelsea stepped closer. “Why?” “There was an environmental issue on one of the floors,” he said quietly. “They said I was responsible.” “But you weren’t,” she protested immediately. “You’ve been saying for weeks that the equipment was faulty.” “I know,” he
Chelsea bolted in through the glass doors of the clinic panting breathlessly. The clinic buzzed with controlled chaos—rolling carts, murmured diagnoses, sharp footsteps echoing down white corridors that smelled faintly of antiseptic and burnt coffee. It was nothing like the small facility she had







