All Chapters of Craving his control : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Mia “This is going to be messy,” Harry said, adjusting his cufflinks with that lethal calm I’d come to recognize as his war mode. I stood beside him, wearing a deep navy blazer, my hair sleek, my heart hammering. But I wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. “I’m counting on it,” I replied. The cameras were already flashing outside the conference doors. Reporters pacing like vultures, waiting for blood. Waiting for Harry Declan to break. But they weren’t getting a collapse today. They were getting a comeback. --- Ten minutes earlier, Olivia had still been celebrating. Now? She was pacing in her penthouse, not realizing every word she muttered — every smug comment — had been streamed and recorded by a bug Mia had planted in her chandelier two weeks ago. Her voice now echoed across the Declan boardroom’s big screen like a confession. > “Let her keep thinking she’s powerful. The higher she climbs, the further she falls.” > “I turned the empire to ash without firing a single bullet.”

Mia For the first time in weeks, the city was quiet. No press. No leaks. No knives waiting behind smiles. Just the steady hum of glass towers in the distance and the scent of coffee from the kitchen Harry rarely used. I stood barefoot in his shirt, the hem brushing my thighs, looking out over the skyline. It felt different now. Like it wasn’t watching me. Like maybe… I belonged here. Harry came in behind me, shirtless, towel around his neck from a workout, his skin still damp. He looked lighter. Looser. But not soft. Harry Declan would never be soft. Just dangerous in a different way now—not fighting to hold on, but choosing what to build. “You’re quiet this morning,” he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I’m thinking.” “About?” I turned in his arms, looking up at him. “What now? Olivia’s gone. The scandal’s dying down. Your name is clearing. But what do we do with all of this?” He studied me for a moment, then brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. “We

Mia When Harry said he wanted to get away, I thought he meant a weekend in the Hamptons. Maybe a luxury hotel with overpriced champagne and a spa I’d never want to leave. I didn’t expect a private island. “I bought it two years ago,” he said casually as the helicopter circled over turquoise waves and lush green cliffs. “Never found the right reason to use it.” I glanced at him, wind whipping my hair as I stared down at paradise. “And now?” He looked at me like I was the only reason the sun rose that morning. “Now I have everything I need.” The island was perfection. Minimal staff. A glass villa tucked between palms and ocean. No noise. No headlines. Just the sound of waves and our own breathing. We didn’t unpack right away. We undressed. Right there on the white satin sheets, we made love slowly, desperately like it was the first time all over again. Like our bodies had forgotten the taste of peace and were relearning it through each other. “I could live here forever,” I

Mia I should’ve known the peace wouldn’t last. Even after the truth spilled between us like broken glass even after I forgave Harry in the darkness of that island I knew the world wouldn’t stay quiet. But I didn’t expect it to happen the moment we landed. We hadn’t even made it back to the penthouse before everything changed. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. My phone lit up like wildfire. BREAKING NEWS: HARRY DECLAN’S SECRET BLACKMAIL DEAL REVEALED ANONYMOUS LEAK CONFIRMS ELIZA WREN WAS FORCED OUT DECLAN ENTERPRISES FACES CORPORATE ETHICS INVESTIGATION I froze. Harry saw the look on my face before I even spoke. “What happened?” I turned the screen toward him. His jaw tightened. Eyes darkened. “Cassandra.” “She leaked it?” I asked. “She’s the only one who had access.” He snatched his phone, scrolling furiously. I could already see it—articles spreading like wildfire, pundits dissecting every detail, blogs and business pages calling him a fraud, a predator in a suit. By the time we r

Mia The restaurant was too quiet. Tucked into the back corner of a boutique hotel, the space was chic and minimal the kind of place where high-powered deals and quiet betrayals happened behind glasses of wine that cost more than rent. Eliza Wren was already seated when I arrived. She looked… like power in soft form. Not flashy. Not intimidating. But poised. Perfect. And unapologetically present. I’d expected tension. What I hadn’t expected was kindness in her eyes. “You came,” she said. “I had to,” I replied, sliding into the seat across from her. “Because of guilt?” she asked, swirling her wine. “Or curiosity?” I met her gaze. “Because of truth. I think we both deserve it.” Silence. She studied me for a long moment, then set her glass down. “I watched the press conference. You both did the impossible.” I raised a brow. “Which is?” “Make the world listen to accountability... and still root for love.” I didn’t know if it was a compliment or a warning. “Thank you,” I