FAZER LOGINDesmond's POV
The silence of the hospital alcove settled around me. Cleopatra Sander lay unconscious on the narrow emergency room bed, still wearing the white lace wedding dress that had suddenly become evidence of a shattered life. Her veil rested on a metal table nearby, though a few tiny pearls still clung to her dark hair under the harsh fluorescent lights. Mascara streaked her pale cheeks like tear stains. One of the nurses checked her pulse one last time before looking up at me. "She will wake up soon. It is just the result of extreme emotional shock." I nodded once to acknowledge his words, my eyes remaining fixed on the woman on the bed. Shock was an understatement for the devastation I had unleashed upon her in front of hundreds of people. Standing behind the clear glass window, I replayed the event inside the church. I saw Chris’s terrified face, the advance of the federal agents, and the exact moment Cleopatra had collapsed like a falling leaf into my arms. My assault on Chris Cross had not been intended to play out in such a public manner. Months ago, I ordered Walton Global’s internal security to trace twelve million dollars that had vanished from our corporate accounts. Every single trail led directly to Chris, my financial manager. Then came the personal betrayal. My security team uncovered photographs of Chris with Victoria Kessel, the daughter of my top investor. They found private messages, luxury vacation bookings, and a purchase receipt for an engagement ring. Chris had not only stolen millions from my company, but he had also stolen my trust by sleeping with the woman I had planned to build a life with. I wanted to destroy him completely. "You look terrible," a voice said beside me. I didn't turn to look at Oliver, my legal counsel and closest friend. "I'm fine." Oliver adjusted his glasses, looking through the glass at Cleopatra. "We had more than enough evidence to have the feds pick Chris up at his office yesterday. You didn't have to crash the wedding." "Chris moved the remaining stolen funds forty-eight hours ago," I said, keeping my tone rigid. "If we had waited another day, he would have fled the country." "Maybe," Oliver countered softly. "But you wanted him ruined publicly. You wanted Victoria to see it, too." I stayed silent because he wasn't entirely wrong. I had wanted maximum damage. But I hadn't anticipated the collateral damage. I hadn't known Cleopatra was completely innocent of her fiancé’s crimes until today. My blind rage toward Chris had obscured the fact that an innocent woman was going to get caught in the crossfire. "You know she's innocent now," Oliver added quietly. Before I could answer, a subtle movement on the bed caught my attention. Cleopatra’s fingers twitched against the white sheets, and her eyelids fluttered open. A nurse hurried over to check her vitals. "Miss Sander, can you hear me?" the nurse asked gently. Cleopatra sat up so fast the heart monitor began to beep in protest. Her eyes darted frantically around the room. "No..." she whispered, her voice laced with panic. Her gaze swept past the nurse and locked onto me through the glass partition. In an instant, her confusion transformed into pure fury. She ripped the monitoring wires from her chest, ignoring the nurse's frantic protests. "Please, you need to lie down!" the nurse urged. Cleopatra ignored her completely. She swung her legs over the bed and stepped onto the floor barefoot. Her wrinkled wedding dress trailed behind her as she marched straight out of the room and opened the hallway door. She stopped right in front of me, pointing a trembling finger at my chest. "You." "Miss Sander, you should be resting—" I began. "Don't tell me what I should be doing!" she snapped, her voice echoing down the corridor. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but her gaze was fierce. "You destroyed my life!" "Chris destroyed your life," I corrected sternly. "I merely exposed what he was doing." "You did it at my wedding!" she screamed, her voice cracking with emotion. "In front of my family! In front of everyone I know! You could have stopped him anywhere else, but you chose my wedding day!" I was unable to offer a defense for my timing. She was right, and we both knew it. "I wanted Chris to experience absolute public ruin," I admitted, looking directly into her tear-filled eyes. "My timing was cruel to you, but the truth remains. He was using you." Cleopatra let out a bitter laugh. "And I suppose you expect me to thank you for enlightening me?" "I don't expect your gratitude," I said smoothly. "But the man was lying to you, laundering money through your accounts, and engaged to another woman. You deserved to know the truth." "You didn't care about giving me the truth," she whispered, stepping closer. Her voice dropped to a deadly, painful quiet. "You just wanted revenge, and you didn't care who you crushed to get it. You're a monster." Before I could reply, she turned on her heel and walked toward the hospital exit. "Cleopatra, wait," Oliver called out, but she ignored him. As she pushed through the sliding glass doors, a wall of flashing cameras and shouting reporters exploded in the courtyard outside. Microphones were shoved into her face as she tried to force her way through the aggressive crowd. My phone vibrated violently in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out and answered. "Sir, we have a problem," my executive assistant, Claire, said without greeting me. "The wedding incident is trending online." I opened the news app on my phone. Front-page headlines were already live, accompanied by high-resolution photos of Cleopatra collapsing in my arms at the altar. "The board of directors has called an emergency meeting," Claire continued, her tone anxious. "And Walton Global stock just dropped eight percent." I closed the app and looked out the glass doors where Cleopatra was disappearing into a taxi, hounded by the press. "Assemble the board," I ordered coldly. "I'm on my way."Cleopatra’s POVThe morning after the gala, I made myself a firm promise: whatever had happened between Desmond and me on that hotel terrace would remain exactly where it belonged.I repeated those words like a mantra while getting dressed, whispered them again while brushing my hair, and said them one last time as I stepped into the elevator at Walton Global. Unfortunately, my heart refused to cooperate with my resolve.The moment the elevator doors slid open onto the executive floor, my eyes landed on him immediately.Desmond stood beside Claire’s desk, reviewing a document on his tablet. His black suit was well pressed, and his facial expression was completely controlled, looking to anyone else exactly as he always did.But I knew better now. I knew the feel of his hands against my skin, the warmth in his voice when he confessed he was losing his mind over me, and the exact taste of his lips against mine.I quickly looked away, keeping my voice cool. "Good morning, Mr. Walton."His
Cleopatra’s POVThe gala finally wound down shortly after midnight. As the remaining guests began filter out and the ballroom music faded, I slipped away through the side doors before anyone could stop me. I needed fresh air to clear my head.The hotel's upper terrace was deserted. A brief rain shower had passed over earlier, leaving the stone floor slick and dark beneath the city lights. The skyline stretched out beyond the glass railing, its reflection shimmering in Puddles like broken glass. I stepped out to the edge, closing my eyes as the cool night breeze hit my skin. For the first time all evening, the tight knot in my chest loosened."Running away?"I opened my eyes, not at all surprised to find Desmond standing a few paces behind me. I let out a quiet breath. "Do you ever stop following me around?""Not when you look this stressed," he said, walking up to the railing beside me."I’m not stressed.""You’re a terrible liar, Cleopatra."I turned to face him fully. "Tonight was e
Cleopatra’s POVTonight the company was organizing its annual gala. I had changed my mind about attending the gala at least six times. The dress was the primary issue: a striking sapphire gown that made me feel exposed. While the front was elegant and tailored, the back descended into an open cut that left my shoulders and most of my spine completely bare.I stared at my reflection in the mirror, leaning against the vanity with a sigh. "This is ridiculous," I whispered to the empty room.My phone buzzed against the marble counter with a message from Desmond: The gala is about to start.I frowned down at the screen, typing back immediately. I will be right there.His response arrived seconds later: can't wait to see you.I stared at his answer longer than necessary before finally slipping the phone into my clutch.When I stepped into the Walton Global lobby, Desmond was already waiting near the entrance. His black tuxedo was impeccably tailored, and his expression maintained its usual
Desmond’s POVIt was eight forty-seven in the evening when I finally noticed the light pouring out from beneath Cleopatra’s office door. I had already sent most of the workers home, leaving the building almost entirely silent.I walked toward her office expecting to find her reviewing the next day’s schedule, but instead, I found her fast asleep. She was slouched behind her desk with her arms folded over a stack of financial reports, her laptop still open with a spreadsheet filling the screen, and her glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of her nose.For several seconds, I simply stood in the doorway watching her. She looked entirely different while sleeping: younger, softer, and stripped of the sharp responses and guarded expressions she routinely wore around me. She looked like the woman from the photograph I had seen right before the wedding, the innocent woman who had walked into a church expecting to marry the man she loved, only to be dragged into my corporate war.I steppe
Cleopatra’s POVBy six thirty the following evening, I was standing in front of my bedroom mirror wondering why I had agreed to attend dinner at the Walton family estate.The black dress Grace had insisted I borrow fit perfectly, but that only made me more uncomfortable. I wasn’t supposed to look like I belonged in Desmond Walton’s world; I was supposed to look like his employee. Unfortunately, the dress made that distinction difficult.My phone vibrated on the vanity. A message from Desmond appeared on the screen: I'm at your door.I stared at it before typing a quick response: hold on, I'm almost ready.I frowned, but before I could send, the doorbell rang downstairs.Ten minutes later, I was sitting inside Desmond’s black sedan, watching Silvercrest disappear behind tinted windows."You could have warned me about the dress code," I said, breaking the silence.Desmond glanced at me from his seat. "I did.""You said dinner.""My mother considers dinner a diplomatic summit," he counte
Desmond’s POVThe city always looked different from sixty floors above Silvercrest. Everything below appeared small enough to manage: people became moving dots, traffic became neat lines of light, and complex problems turned into predictable numbers on spreadsheets. That was how I preferred the world, simple, measurable, and controlled.Yet Cleopatra Sander had managed to shatter that illusion within a single week. After the incident, she had agreed to help me investigate the crimes she was accused of.Sitting across from me in my private office, she was surrounded by stacks of financial reports, encrypted ledgers, and three open laptops. "You missed something," she said suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts.I looked up from my screen, frowning. "What did I miss?"She pointed toward a transaction report on her screen. "This transfer right here. You saw the amount, but you completely missed the timing. The payment was made at 2:14 a.m., exactly three minutes after an internal security







