Lines That Shouldn’t Be Crossed

The rooftop of the Blackwood project tower shimmered under fairy lights, the skyline casting long shadows over champagne flutes and carefully measured handshakes. The Skyline project launch had drawn in a crowd of high profile investors, board members, media elites, and social darlings.

It was supposed to be a night of celebration.

He stood beside the bar, the city skyline behind him like a painted lie, holding a glass of scotch he hadn’t stopped refilling since the night began. The burn in his throat was dull compared to the storm brewing in his chest.

She’d done it again.

Katherina.

With her venomous smile, she had chained him down once more. Three months pregnant. With his child. With his heir.

And now, he was trapped.

The news had knocked the air from his lungs when she whispered it earlier in the evening not with softness or love, but with triumph. Like it was another move on the chessboard, another trap he hadn’t seen coming.

He hated her.

He hated himself more for ever wanting her.

A soft laugh caught his ear.

Damien’s head turned.

There she was Amelia in a red silk dress that hugged every curve like it had been painted on her. The slit on the side rose scandalously high with every graceful step. Her lips glistened with cherry gloss, and her dark hair was pinned up in that effortlessly elegant way that made his hands itch to ruin it.

She stood among the investors, smiling, composed, untouchable. But her eyes those eyes were distant, flickering with something unsaid.

Something only he had ever truly known.

Amelia turned, her smile brief as she caught Damien’s gaze. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was full of doubt, like she sensed the storm building behind his eyes.

“I need to use the restroom,” she murmured to a colleague beside her, setting her glass down and disappearing down the hallway.

Moments later, Damien followed.

The hallway was dim, golden lights reflecting off crystal sconces and the soft whisper of music muffled behind velvet curtains. The scent of orchids and fine perfume lingered in the air. Damien’s steps were shaky, his mind clouded by alcohol, anger, and something darker something more intense.

He spotted her near the powder room door. The red gown framed her perfectly, the slit revealing just enough thigh to drive him wild.

His eyes dipped lower. The way her breasts pushed up in the neckline… God, he wanted to bury his face there and forget the world. The way her gown was hugging the swell of her hips, dipping dangerously low at her back. He didn’t care if she was betrothed to someone else. He didn’t care that he was drunk.

Right now, all he knew was need.

He caught up to her in two quick steps and grabbed her wrist.

She gasped, whirling around. “Damien?”

“I shouldn’t want this,” he muttered. “But I do.”

Before she could respond, he pressed her against the wall, one arm braced beside her head, the other gripping her waist.

His mouth crashed onto hers.

It was heat and raw desire, years of silence exploding between them. Her gasp turned into a soft, needy moan as their lips met. She didn’t need to think twice, she kissed him back because it was him

Because it was him.

The boy who used to sneak into her window.

The man who ruined her.

The first and only one who ever made her feel like the world stopped spinning.

His hands roamed her waist, slid down her thighs, and cupped her breasts firmly. The silk of her dress bunched in his fists as he lifted it higher, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin along her inner thigh, desperate to slip inside her.

“Damien” she whispered, but it wasn’t a protest. It was a plea. A warning. A war.

And he didn’t stop.

One finger found her pussy already it was so wet and slippery he teased her with urgent need. Her breath caught in her throat. His teeth grazed her jawline, sending shivers down her spine. Her head fell back against the wall surrendering to the fierce need burning between them.

God, she remembered this.

His scent. His touch.

The way he made her forget the world

her heart also remembered him.

It remembered first love.

Miguel.

His smile. His patience. His unyielding belief in her. The one who was there for her when her life turned upside down.

Her eyes snapped open.

And here she was giving her body for the man who once shattered her life upside down.

Damien’s hand moved again trying to spread her legs wide and she slapped him.

Hard.

His quickly turned his head, a red bruise appeared across his cheek.

They stared at each other. His chest rose and fell like a caged animal. Her body trembled.

Breathing hard, Amelia pulled her dress back down, her eyes burning with shame and fury. “This can never happen again,” she hissed.

And then she was gone, heels clicking as she disappeared back into the noise and lights of the party.

Back on the rooftop, the event continued as if nothing had happened.

Glasses clinked. Deals were whispered over laughter among the executives.

The orchestra resumed its waltz. Waiters served the guests with trays of truffle bites and aged whiskey. Laughter rippled through the crowd, false and polished.

Amelia returned to the party like nothing had happened lips red, cheeks flushed, eyes unreadable.

Damien returned moments later, a new drink in his hand, the slap still stinging on his skin and in his pride.

Board members gave speeches, each one praising the brilliance of the Blackwood expansion. He barely heard the Financial director finish his speech when The microphone was passed to Katherina. She stood up, taking it with her usual graceful smile in a calm, confident, and calculated way.

She lifted her glass of champagne, and the room instantly went quiet.

She looked stunning her hair pulled back into a neat bun, her green dress fitting her body just right, showing a hint of a small baby bump. She smiled like she already knew she had won.

“Thank you all for being here tonight,” she said, her voice soft and smooth. “The Skyline Building is now complete. It’s a dream Damien and I built together. And with the help of Amelia Stone and our amazing team, it became a true success. So here’s a toast to her.”

Everyone clapped politely.

“But tonight,” Katherina continued, her eyes shining, “I want to share something even more special. A personal dream that’s finally come true.”

Damien stiffened.

She paused for a moment, letting the silence build.

“After four years of marriage…” her voice softened just enough “Damien and I are finally expecting our first child.”

A gasp rippled through the crowd. Glasses froze midair. Cameras were being clicked nonstop.

Katherina placed a gentle hand on her stomach, her smile widening. “Yes. We’re going to be parents.”

The room broke into a resounding applause, some people standing in surprise, others whispering behind flutes of champagne.

Across the room, Damien forced a smile, eyes fixed on her his jaw tight, his mind racing.

Katherina turned slightly toward him, her eyes locking with his in a stare that was both wicked and victorious.

She raised her glass once more. “To new beginnings. To legacy. To the future of Blackwood.”

And in the middle of the celebration, Amelia went still like the air had been knocked clean out of her lungs.

Pregnant?

Three months?

Her ears rang. The champagne flute in her hand tilted slightly, almost pouring away.

She turned her head towards Damien.

He wasn’t smiling.

He wasn’t even looking at Katherina.

He stared down at his drink like it might explode, his knuckles white around the glass. He looked calm, but inside he was boiling with anger..

A family.

He was starting a family with the woman who ruined her.

With the same woman who had destroyed her engagement.

With the same man who had kissed her just hours ago like he still belonged to her.

Amelia’s felt a sharp pain in her chest.

The world around her blurred.

Across the penthouse, guests flocked to Damien, offering hugs and congratulations. He stood stiff, arms folded, barely replying anyone.

But his eyes…

His eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on her.

She was frozen in the corner like she didn’t belong.

He stared into her eyes, and in that silence, something raw and wild sparked.

Amelia’s lips parted to say something but nothing came out.

Her face had gone white.

And then, without a word, she turned sharply on her heel and disappeared through the door, her heels were clicking, breathing was shallow, the room still echoing with fake cheers behind her.

Damien didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

But his grip on the glass shattered.