3. A Splash, A Glance, A Modern Fairytale in Ruins.

Back at Prince Tower

SADIE SUMMER – Still soaked, barefoot, and fuming.

The lobby lights were too bright.

I stomped in with a mission—soaked block heel clenched in one hand, coat plastered to my body, and mud drying on my dress in abstract patches that might’ve been funny if they weren’t on me. Every step squelched like a personal sound effect, and my ponytail dripped water onto the marble floor like some tragic, office-grade version of The Little Mermaid.

Except I wasn’t singing.

I was muttering curses under her breath in between sharp exhales.

 

“I swear to God, if I ever meet that driver—”

 

The elevator dinged.

As soon as the elevator doors slid open, the night-shift security guard stepped out with brisk urgency.

“Miss Sadie! What a coincidence—I was just looking for you. You’ve been asked to report to Mr. Prince’s office immediately.”

I opened my mouth, ready to explain the unfortunate mess I’d just been through, but his words stopped me cold.

“Wait—Mr. Prince? As in the CEO Mr. Prince? Please tell me this is some kind of joke, Mr. Andy.”

 

He shook his head, firm and serious. “No joke, miss. I just came down from his office. He asked me personally to notify the team and post an alert in the lobby. If anyone runs into Miss Summer, she is to go directly to him.”

 

My stomach dropped.

My heart stuttered.

Before stepping into the elevator, I glanced over my shoulder at Casey, who was now lying across one of the long lobby benches, half-asleep. Looked like I’d be going up alone.

 

Inside the elevator, my thoughts ran wild.

 

Is this even real?

What kind of CEO is still in the office at this hour?

 

And Cassey said Mr. Prince supposed to be some old guy?

God—what if he’s one of those creepy, power-tripping executives?

The elevator climbed toward the top floor—of course, that’s where the CEO’s office was. But instead of heading straight there, I stepped off the floor below.

There was no way I was going to face the CEO of Prince Company wearing just one shoe. I needed to get to my desk first.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, I froze.

There was a man. Standing near my desk.

 

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Hands tucked into the pockets of a dark coat, his presence sharp and quiet—like a shadow that hadn’t meant to be caught. I blinked, unsure if I was hallucinating from the stress or lack of sleep.

I stepped out hesitantly, each footfall slow and uncertain. My foot could feel the coldness of the polished floor. The office lights were dim—just the soft glow from emergency strips and a few desk lamps left on by habit. The usual hum of activity had long since gone to sleep. It wasn’t just quiet. It was after-hours quiet.

And there he was. A stranger. In my office, near my desk.

 

I tried not to panic.

Sure, he was handsome—okay, more than handsome. The kind of handsome that made my brain short-circuit for half a second. His jaw was sharp, his frame all lean muscle and calm power, like someone born to walk into a room and own it.

But still—stranger. Man. In a near-empty office.

I clutched my heel a little tighter in one hand. Why did I still have this half shoe in my hand? I didn’t really know.

My fingers curled around the strap, grounding me as my gaze locked with his.

He didn’t speak right away. Just watched me. Like he was waiting.

Or like he already knew who I was.

I cleared my throat, suddenly aware that my heart was racing in the most confused, chaotic way possible.

“Um… can I help you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

DAMON'S POV

“Are you Sadie Summer?”

 

She looked up at me, wide-eyed. Her hair was damp from the rain, a light sheen of water catching the glow of the overhead lights. Her dress—mud-streaked and clinging—made her look like she’d walked out of a different world and into mine. One heel in hand, the other foot bare.

 

Fragile, yet… defiant.

 

“Yes,” she answered, her voice cautious.

 

I took a moment to study her. So this was the girl with the aim of an assassin and the luck of a cartoon character.

 

The one who launched her shoe at a CEO’s car and had no idea she hit the man himself.

 

Up close, she looked younger than I expected—nervous, vulnerable—but her eyes held something else. Strength, maybe.

A spark that hadn’t gone out despite… whatever life had clearly thrown at her.

“Honestly,” I said, letting the corner of my mouth lift just slightly, “I was hoping you could help me.”

Her brows drew together in confusion.

 

I was watching her—subtly, carefully—taking in every detail from head to toe. The damp hem of her dress.

The way her knuckles were white around that poor, kidnapped heel. And those eyes—uncertain, but sharp.

I turned and gestured with a small nod.

 

“Come with me,” I said, already walking toward the elevator that would take us to the top floor. “We’ll talk in my office.”

 

She hesitated. Of course she did.

No one ever expected the CEO to just appear.

Especially not like this.

She looked down at herself, clearly aware of her soaked clothes and the one heel clutched awkwardly in her hand. Her face was flushed with a mix of embarrassment and disbelief.

 

She looked like a mess, but in the most haunting, human way. Raw. Real. Water-washed and furious.

 

“I—uh—I should put on my shoes first,” she mumbled, gesturing toward her desk, where I now noticed a pair of simple flats tucked neatly under the table. “It’s… kind of a long story.”

 

“Oh, don’t worry,” I said, stepping past her “I have the other pair in my office.”

 

She froze.

“Come with me,” I said simply, turning away.

I didn’t wait to see if she followed.

But I knew she would.