Ellaine Sinclair had promised herself she would never set foot in this city again. Yet here she was, heels clicking against the marble floor of Blackwood Tower, the air heavy with polished steel and ambition. Every surface gleamed, every corner whispered power. It was his world now — Damian's world. And she was trespassing.
Her pulse quickened as the elevator doors slid open. She told herself she was here for business, nothing more. But the moment she stepped into the executive floor, the past pressed against her chest like a weight she couldn't shake.
And then she saw him.
Damian Blackwood stood at the far end of the room, tall and composed, his presence commanding without effort. Gone was the quiet boy who once lingered in shadows. This man radiated authority — sharp suit, unreadable eyes, the kind of silence that made others nervous. He didn't look at her right away, but when he did, the years between them collapsed in an instant.
Ellaine Sinclair. His voice was low, steady, but edged with something dangerous. I wondered how long it would take before you came back.
Her throat tightened. She wanted to smile, to deflect, to play the part she had perfected long ago. But the words caught, tangled in the storm of memories. The way he had once looked at her — not with desire, but with understanding. The way she had left him, without explanation, without mercy.
Damian she managed, her voice softer than she intended. It's been... a long time.He studied her, expression unreadable. No warmth, no welcome. Just the weight of everything unsaid.
Yes, he said finally, stepping closer. Long enough for me to learn that some ghosts don't stay buried.
The air between them crackled, heavy with tension. Ellaine's heart raced, torn between guilt and the undeniable pull of him. She had returned for reasons she couldn't yet admit — but standing here, facing Damian Blackwood again, she realized the past wasn't just waiting. It was demanding.
And this time, she couldn't run.