The city never truly slept. Even past midnight, lights burned in the towers, the pulse of ambition echoing through glass and steel. From my balcony, I could see the skyline stretching like a crown — my crown.
But tonight, it didn't feel like victory. Tonight, the world felt heavy.
Another attack had hit Hattaway Vision — a leak that could only have come from someone close. Victor Dane's name was whispered again, this time with proof. He'd been working with James all along, trying to pull down everything I'd built.
I stood there, barefoot, silk robe brushing against my legs, staring at the flicker of lightning in the distance. My empire was under siege — and I was tired of fighting shadows.
Then came the knock.
"Diana?" Wallace's voice.
He entered before I answered, holding a folder in one hand and concern in his eyes. He looked tired too — his tie loose, sleeves rolled, hair damp from the rain. Yet somehow, even exhaustion couldn't dim the quiet power he carried.
"They tried to buy out another investor today," he said, placing the folder on my desk. "James is cornering your funding streams. But we can block him if—"
"I know," I cut in, my voice calm but frayed. "I know what to do. I just… I can't believe I have to keep proving myself. Again."
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he walked toward the window, standing beside me. The city lights danced on his face.
"You don't have to prove anything anymore, Diana," he said softly. "Not to them. You've already won."
"Have I?" I whispered. "Because it doesn't feel like winning when every battle costs a piece of my peace."
He turned to me, eyes searching mine. "Then stop fighting alone."
I looked at him, confused. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying let me in," he said simply. "Not into your company — into you."
The words hit harder than I expected. My throat tightened. "Wallace…"
He stepped closer. "You keep everyone at a distance. You build walls out of pride, and I get it — it's survival. But Diana, not every man you let close will break you."
My heart trembled. His voice wasn't just persuasive — it was raw, honest, human.
He took my hand. "You don't have to be fire all the time. Even flames need something to rest on."
The tears came before I could stop them. For years, I'd been strong, unshaken, armored. But in that moment, the armor cracked.
He didn't pull me into some fairytale embrace. He just stood there, holding me like I was allowed to be human again.
"I hate that they still have this power over me," I whispered against his chest.
"They don't," he said. "They just think they do. You've already taken it back."
I looked up at him, really looked — and realized how much he'd become part of my strength. Every plan, every late-night meeting, every shared silence had woven something deeper between us.
"Wallace," I breathed, "what if this ruins us?"
He smiled faintly. "Then we'll rebuild again — together."
And before logic could intervene, I kissed him.
It wasn't soft or hesitant. It was years of pain, fury, passion, and longing — everything I'd buried since my fall. His hands framed my face, gentle but sure, and for once, I didn't resist being vulnerable. I let the fire burn freely.
When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine. "You don't have to fight alone anymore," he whispered.
And for the first time in forever, I believed him.
---
The following weeks felt different. Our partnership evolved — no longer just business, but trust, tenderness, shared purpose. The world saw a power couple; I saw something rarer — a safe place.
We still fought battles. The war with James and Victor raged on, but now there was light in the chaos. Wallace's calm steadied me; my fire fueled him. Together, we turned every strike into strategy.
And somewhere between late-night board meetings and quiet rooftop talks, love became my rebellion.
Because for every enemy who wanted to see me broken, there was this — a woman reborn, not from ashes this time, but from love.
---
One night, after we'd won a major deal that pushed my company into global dominance, Wallace poured two glasses of champagne.
"To victory?" he said.
I smiled, clinking my glass against his. "To peace."
He raised an eyebrow. "You, Diana Hattaway, are toasting to peace?"
I laughed. "For once, yes. I've earned it."
He grinned, leaning closer. "And maybe… to love?"
I held his gaze. "To love — the kind that doesn't demand surrender."
The city lights shimmered beneath us, the world finally feeling like mine again.
Little did I know, peace was about to be tested again — this time from within.
