“Big News: Tonight is the D-Day. The day we’ve all been anticipating, the day when every celebrity will gather, and every famous person will meet and acknowledge each other. A day we celebrate icons of the century and philanthropists whose love has extended to the poor.
Tonight at Burj Al Arab in Dubai, there will be the wedding anniversary of the Steele couple, also known as the ‘Blind Heroes’—a name given to them by the numerous poor and innocent people they’ve saved. At the same wedding anniversary, they’ll be receiving the ‘Icon of the Century’ award. Prominent figures from all over the world have been invited to witness this day.
To see your favorite actors, sports players, musicians, and influencers gathered in the same room, exchanging greetings and acknowledging each other, tune in to ‘View Me’ at 10 PM, because we’ll be providing you with live coverage of every event. We won’t miss a thing.”
………
In one of the VIP rooms stood Charlotte, looking outside the window with a glass of tequila in her hand. Adrian approached her slowly from behind and held her by the waist.
“Are you ready to welcome the big guests?” he whispered in her ear, and she slowly turned toward him.
“Yes, let’s make sure they enjoy tonight.” She smiled at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to start getting dressed. You should too, since we’re the main characters of this event.” Adrian smirked, kissed her, and went to get dressed.
……….
clack, clack, clack
The soft sound of subtle footsteps echoed in the luxurious hallway of the Burj Al Arab hotel. The footsteps stopped in front of a VIP room, and then the door opened.
“Ma’am, the boss said you should get ready. It’s almost time,” he said to a silhouette with a feminine figure sitting in front of her mirror.
“I’ll be done in a minute,” she replied, and he left.
…….
It was 10:30 PM, and the event center was bustling with people: influential figures, social media celebrities, journalists, and broadcasters with cameramen capturing and interviewing the important attendees for news pieces.
It was time for the red carpet, and as a grand celebration, it was requisite for the most prominent among prominent people to be recognized.
Celebrities walked in with their partners, each trying to steal the spotlight for themselves, but at the end of the day, the true main characters arrived, and all attention shifted to them.
“Look, it’s the Blind Heroes!” some broadcasters yelled. Within seconds, more camera lights flashed on them, and interviewers surrounded them.
Just as they finished entertaining questions from the interviewers, they went ahead to greet their guests. In the middle of greeting, another car pulled up. It was a popular limousine, the representation of Vance Co-op. Everyone turned their attention to the newly arrived.
As if the spotlight focused on the yacht, Damien Vance, with his breathtaking looks, stepped down, looking elegant in his perfectly tailored brown suit and black shoes. His hair was combed back, and his beard was well-groomed.
“I… it’s Damien Vance!”
“Vance? You mean the brother of the victim of the murder ten years ago? That Vance?”
“What’s he doing here? Why does he look so perfect?” journalists discussed among themselves.
He went ahead to help his partner. Everyone was certain that no matter who he came with, he would outshine her; his presence became a sight worthy of admiration. But what happened next left everyone dumbfounded.
As she grabbed his hand and stepped out, men began to drool at her beauty. It was a face words couldn’t describe—perfect without imperfections. A slender young lady, wearing a black net dress, exposed some of her snow-white skin.
Her silky black hair fell down, and her pearl blue eyes were hypnotizing. She immediately became the center of attention.
“Whoa, who’s she?” one of the onlookers murmured, and the next second, journalists swarmed them.
“Hello, Mr. Vance! You look good. Have you come here to wish Adrian and Charlotte well?”
“Mr. Vance, it’s been years! How have you been?”
The journalists bombarded them with questions, but Damien ignored the trivial inquiries and only answered the ones he deemed fit.
“Mr. Vance, are you still mourning your brother?” a journalist asked.
“It’s been ten years. Who mourns for that long? I loved my little brother, but mourning him for ten years would just make him restless. Besides, the murderer is getting what she deserves, so let the dead rest,” Damien said in a cold tone.
“Mr. Vance, who’s the lady with you?” another journalist inquired.
“She? It seems you have poor intel to not recognize her right away.” He drew Elena closer and kissed her forehead.
“She’s my wife—Celine Vance.” Everyone was dumbfounded by this revelation. They had all thought he was mourning his brother, but he seemed to be doing well.
After some minutes, everyone dispersed, and the celebration continued. Elena, now Celine Vance, still garnered most of the attention, and other billionaires acquainted with Damien approached her themselves.
Charlotte observed this but wasn’t foolish or childish enough to let jealousy dictate her actions. Instead, she saw this as a chance to make more connections and strengthen her ties with the Vance family once again.
Once she finished receiving awards, it was already past midnight. She finally saw Celine alone and decided to approach her. Meanwhile, Adrian was busy greeting other guests and conversing with them, so he didn’t pay attention to her.
“Hello, Miss Celine!” she smiled at her.
“Oh, hello!” Celine greeted back with a bow.
“Congratulations on your honorary award. It was well-deserved.”
“Oh, thank you very much,” Celine replied.
“I was waiting for Damien, but he seems busy talking with other men. Why don’t we have a little chat over a drink?” Elena offered, and Charlotte laughed heartily.
“Men will always be men. Even Adrian hasn’t looked at me just because he’s busy conversing with other men.” She laughed as she took a seat and ordered a drink. They discussed as they drank, and as Charlotte felt that things were going smoothly, she decided to create a connection between them to finally win her over.
“You know… we would have been family enjoying more of this moment if an accident hadn’t happened ten years ago.”
Elena immediately picked up on her trick. “You mean the incident of your sister murdering Lucas Vance? I heard rumors saying that she was innocently framed…”
“She did it,” Charlotte cut in. “That bitch did it. I saw it with my own eyes.” Elena secretly rolled her hand into a fist, concealing her anger. She was quiet for a moment, then took a sip of her drink and said, “Really? Tell me more.”
Elena- POVI got back to the office with a smile plastered on my face like a fool.I didn’t even try to hide it. How could I? Damien, the same Damien who once terrified me with his anger, who tangled me in a mess of betrayal and guilt, was now the man sending flowers, designer perfumes, and handwritten notes that made my heart beat too fast. It didn’t make sense, and maybe that’s why I couldn’t stop smiling.I didn’t know this version of him. Sweet. Quiet. Thoughtful.Where was the man who held so much fury behind his eyes? Where was the cold mask, the power-hungry storm I had learned to fear?More importantly… why did I miss that version less and less?The door burst open without a knock.Hilda walked in, her heels clicking sharply across the tile. She froze the moment she saw the flowers, her eyes bulging.“Whoa,” she gasped. “What is this?”I tried to play it off, sitting down in my chair with forced nonchalance. “Just a few things someone sent.”“A few things?” she echoed, rushing
Elena POVThe sharp ringing of his phone cut through the silence between us, pulling us apart before either of us could make sense of what had just happened. Damien’s lips hovered near mine, his breath still hot on my skin, but his eyes flicked toward the source of the sound.“I have to take this,” he muttered, already backing away, jaw tight.I nodded, saying nothing. My face was flushed, my body still tingling from his touch, from how quickly the space between us had disappeared, only to return again just like that.He left the room, his phone pressed to his ear, and I stood there for a moment longer, hand resting on the edge of the kitchen counter. I swallowed hard and stared out the window like it would give me answers. But it didn’t. It never did.The next morning came faster than I’d wanted. I hadn’t been able to sleep much. The way he’d looked at me, the way our bodies had collided without thought, without planning it played in my mind on a loop. I couldn’t understand him. One
Damien – POV“Damn…” I whispered under my breath.She didn’t hear me, but maybe that was for the best. Because if she did… I might not make it through dinner without pulling her against the counter and taking her again.The clink of cutlery against plates echoed in the silence between us.Elena sat across from me at the dinner table, a candle flickering softly between us. She didn’t say much, not that I expected her to. After the whirlwind of emotion we’d both endured, silence felt like a safer refuge than words.She focused on her food, twirling the pasta delicately, her shoulders tense. I wondered if she even tasted it. I couldn’t. My appetite had vanished the moment she sat down. All I could do was look at her. The curve of her mouth. The shadows under her eyes. The quiet sadness she wore like a second skin.And still, she was beautiful.“I hope it’s not too salty,” she said suddenly, barely glancing at me.“It’s perfect,” I answered. It was the truth.She nodded but didn’t reply.
Damien – POV"Elena,” I called, standing just outside the bathroom door, my voice low and still heavy with the weight of the night before.There was a pause, a rustle, and then her voice floated out, shaky and breathless. “Why… don’t you come in?”I chuckled but didn’t move. The door stayed firmly shut between us, but I didn’t need to see her to picture her flushed cheeks, that vulnerable look in her eyes she always tried to hide. God, it was burned into my memory now. Everything from last night was.“I’m heading to work,” I said, more gently this time. “Left the car key on the table. Bring it when you come.”“Okay,” she answered. Her voice was soft almost too soft. Like she wanted to say something more but couldn’t find the words.I waited a beat longer, then turned and headed out the door.But as I stepped into the morning sun, reality hit harder than I expected. We’d had sex. Last night. In the middle of heartbreak, grief, and rage, we’d lost ourselves in each other. I’d kissed her
Elena – POVThe kiss was chaotic, messy, and desperate, and utterly intoxicating.I didn’t know who moved first. Maybe we moved at the same time, colliding in the center of the storm we’d both barely survived. There was no room for restraint, no space for guilt or thought. Only emotion is raw, wild, and all-consuming.He kissed me like he needed it to breathe, and I returned it with everything I had left.Our bodies pressed together like magnets. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling just enough to make me gasp, and that sound… it drove him wild. I felt the hard edge of his desire pressing into my thigh, and I shuddered, arousal surging through my veins like wildfire.I pulled him closer.My hands roamed upward, then wrapped around his neck. He groaned against my lips when I gently gripped his throat, my fingers tightening just a little. It was instinct. Emotion. A silent command to let go. And he did.He moaned into my mouth like I’d stolen the last bit of control he had. The sound m
Elena – POV"Charlotte, I’m going to kill her.”The fury in Damien’s voice was like thunder cracking open the walls of his office. His chair scraped against the tiled floor as he stood, fists clenched, shoulders taut with rage. For a second, he wasn’t Damien anymore he was wrath incarnate, pure, undiluted grief twisted into something sharp and dangerous.I stepped in front of him without thinking.“No,” I whispered, my palms pressing against his chest.His heartbeat was a wild, frantic drum beneath my hands.“Move, Elena,” he warned, his voice low, trembling not from fear, but fury. “I need to”“No,” I repeated, stronger this time. “You can’t.”He stared at me. For a breath, I didn’t think he saw me at all. His eyes were glassy, consumed by the image of his brother, by the sound of his voice saying “Adrian and Charlotte are the reason” but then they flicked downward, to the tears streaking my cheeks.“Elena…”I didn’t let him finish. I stepped back, wiping my eyes roughly with my slee