Eve had always thought Damian Cross was an enigma—untouchable, unreadable.
But as they lay tangled together in the dim glow of the city lights, she realized something else.
He wasn't just a billionaire.
He wasn't just a womanizer.
He was broken.
And now, he was finally letting her see it.
Damian's fingers traced slow patterns against her bare shoulder as he stared up at the ceiling, his expression unreadable.
"I never wanted this life," he murmured.
Eve turned her head to look at him. "What do you mean?"
His jaw tensed, as if the words were difficult to say. "The money. The power. The reputation." A bitter chuckle escaped him. "You think I enjoy being the man who's never satisfied? The one who takes and takes but never feels?"
Eve frowned. "Then why"
"Because it's easier." His gaze darkened. "It's easier to bury yourself in pleasure than to face the emptiness inside."
Something inside her clenched.
This wasn't just about womanizing.
This was about pain.
A loneliness so deep, it had swallowed him whole.
Eve reached out, her fingers brushing against his chest. "What happened to you, Damian?"
For a moment, he didn't answer.
Then, he exhaled and turned to face her.
"My parents never loved each other," he admitted. "Their marriage was a business deal. And when my father died, my mother barely blinked. I was raised to believe love was just another transaction. Another illusion."
Eve's throat tightened. "And you believed that?"
Damian hesitated.
Then, his fingers brushed against her cheek, his voice softer now.
"Until you."
Eve's heart slammed against her ribs.
Damian's lips quirked into a small, almost self-deprecating smile. "I fought it. Tried to ignore it. But no matter how many women I had, no matter how much I tried to drown it out, it was always you."
Eve swallowed hard. "Damian"
His fingers tilted her chin up. "I don't want to feel empty anymore, Eve." His voice was low, raw. "And with you, I don't."
The words shattered something inside her.
Because she had spent her life running from love.
And now, Damian Cross the man who could have anyone was telling her he needed her.
She cupped his face, her fingers gentle against his rough stubble. "Then don't," she whispered.
For the first time, Damian looked vulnerable.
And when he pulled her into his arms, it wasn't just desire that burned between them.
It was something deeper.
Something neither of them could run from anymore.
A Ghost from the Past
The morning after felt different.
For the first time, Eve woke up wrapped in Damian's arms, warmth pressing against her back, his breath steady against her neck.
Safe.
She never thought she'd feel this way with a man like him.
But as she lay there, letting herself enjoy the quiet moment, a sharp knock at the door shattered the peace.
Damian stirred beside her, groaning. "Who the hell—"
Another knock. Louder. More urgent.
Eve sat up just as Damian swung out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable as he moved toward the door.
The second he opened it, she knew—knew—something was wrong.
Because the woman standing in the doorway wasn't just anyone.
She was beautiful, tall, and poised, with dark red lips and eyes that held a dangerous glint.
And she was looking at Damian like she owned him.
"Miss me?" the woman purred.
Damian's entire body went rigid.
Eve's stomach twisted. Who the hell is she?
Then the woman's gaze shifted to Eve, her lips curling into a smirk.
"Well," she mused, "this is interesting."
Eve clenched her fists. She had no idea who this woman was, but one thing was clear—she was here to cause trouble.
Damian's voice was low, tight. "What do you want, Vanessa?"
Vanessa.
The name sent a strange chill down Eve's spine.
Vanessa's smirk widened. "Come on, Damian. I thought we didn't keep secrets from each other." She stepped closer, her voice dripping with amusement. "But I guess that was a lie, too."
Eve's chest tightened. What the hell is going on?
And for the first time since she met Damian Cross, she saw something in his eyes she had never seen before.
Fear.
The Leverage
The silence stretched between them, thick with tension.
Eve's pulse pounded as she looked between Damian and Vanessa.
Who was this woman?
And what did she mean by secrets?
Damian's jaw tightened. "You shouldn't be here."
Vanessa let out a soft chuckle, stepping inside as if she belonged there. "Oh, darling," she purred, "but we both know I should."
Eve clenched her fists. She wasn't the jealous type, but there was something off about Vanessa.
Something dangerous.
And the way Damian stood—stiff, guarded—told her one thing.
He was afraid of what she might say.
Vanessa turned to Eve, her smirk widening. "You must be the new entertainment."
Eve's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"
Damian stepped in front of her, his voice sharp. "Vanessa, don't."
But Vanessa only tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Oh, come on, Damian. What's the fun in that?" She leaned against the bar, toying with the ring on her finger. "Does she know?"
Eve's stomach twisted. Know what?
Damian's voice was low, warning. "Vanessa."
Vanessa ignored him. Instead, she turned her full attention to Eve. "Has he told you who he really is?" she asked, her tone sickly sweet.
Eve frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Vanessa let out a soft, delighted laugh. "Oh, sweetheart," she cooed, "you have no idea who you're sleeping with."
Eve's pulse pounded. She turned to Damian. "What is she talking about?"
But Damian wouldn't look at her.
That's when she knew.
Vanessa wasn't lying.
And whatever secret she held over Damian…
It was big.