All Chapters of RUTHLESS HEARTS COLLIDE : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Arielle didn’t know what exhaustion truly meant until she walked through the hospital doors the morning after Emma’s surgery, Even the success of the procedure hadn’t fully settled in her bones, relief came in waves, but fear still pooled beneath it like a shadow waiting to return, She had barely slept, Her eyes still stung, Her voice felt grainy when she thanked the nurses who promised to keep calling if anything changed.Damian had left immediately after the surgery, no goodbye, no explanation. One moment he was holding her, hands tense, body coiled with worry, the next, he was telling his driver something under his breath and walking away without looking back.She didn’t know how to feel about that.Maybe she shouldn’t feel anything at all.By the time she reached the penthouse, her head throbbed with a dull ache and her shoulders felt like someone had hung weights on them. She wanted nothing more than a shower, a meal, and maybe, if her body allowed it, a few minutes of peace befo

The storm outside wasn’t half as loud as the storm brewing online. Arielle hadn’t slept, Not really, Not after the photos leaked online, Not after reading comments that dragged her name through dirt, twisting her entire life into a narrative she didn’t recognize. Gold digger. Single mother pretending to be noble. Using her sick sister to trap a billionaire. Lies, All of it. But the internet didn’t care about truth, They cared about blood. Arielle sat stiffly on Damian’s sofa, hands clasped in her lap, phone facedown beside her as if reversing it would make the pain disappear. She had taken a loaned shirt from Damian’s closet, soft cotton, warm but nothing could warm the cold settling into her bones. Emma was asleep in the guest room temporarily set up for her recovery, she have been transferred to the house due to the news and some unethical nurses in the hospital. Arielle had checked on her a dozen times already, kissed her forehead, whispered that everything was okay even wh

The penthouse was too quiet. Too still. Arielle stepped inside, Emma is with Liam at the moment and the silence wrapped around her like cold air. She dropped her keys on the marble counter at the entrance of the house and exhaled shakily. She had replayed the scene at the company the entire drive home, Damian pulling her, yelling, dragging her out as if she’d stepped into a fire. Her pulse still hadn’t settled. She set the thermos on the counter, for the second time that day, untouched, and sank onto the couch. Not even ten minutes passed before the elevator chimed. Damian stepped into the house like a storm in a tailored suit, jaw locked, tie loose, eyes dark and carved with exhaustion. He shut the door harder than necessary, the metallic clank shuddering through the room. “Arielle.” Just her name, But it sounded like a warning. She stood slowly. “You are here, so early?.” “No,” he said coldly. “I came home because you didn’t listen.” She blinked. “Excuse me?” “I told you

As the door clicked shut behind Arielle, sealing her inside with Damian’s sleepless eyes and the tension that still clung to the air from last night. She stood just a few steps inside the living room, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder like a declaration. A reminder that she had left… and could still do it again. Damian didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched her, dark circles beneath his eyes, his shirt rumpled, his usually perfect posture slightly slumped. He looked like a man who had paced holes into the floor while waiting for her. “Arielle,” he said quietly. Her heartbeat stuttered, but she forced herself to stay steady. “I said I want to talk.” “I know.” His voice was low, almost hoarse. “And I’m listening.” She didn’t trust him. Not fully. Not after the way he’d spoken to her, the way he’d dragged her out of his company, the way he’d called her a liability. A word she felt still bruising the inside of her ribs. “I meant it,” she said sharply. “I couldn’t stay h

Damian didn’t sleep that night. Not really. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the ghost of Arielle’s breath against his chest… or the warmth of her lip beneath his thumb. It rattled him more than he’d ever admit. He had touched her before, accidentally, reluctantly, in moments that demanded something raw. But that moment was different. He hadn’t been angry. Or desperate. Or trying to stop her from walking away. He had simply… wanted to. That terrified him more than losing any boardroom battle ever could. By the time dawn broke, he was already showered, suited, and leaning against the island counter with a mug of untouched coffee. Arielle padded into the kitchen quietly. Her hair was pulled into a soft bun, her eyes still sleepy, lips flushed from biting them nervously. The same lips he’d touched. “Morning,” she whispered. Damian’s fingers tightened on the mug. “Morning.” They held each other’s gaze for one charged second too long. Then she looked away, pretendin