Chapter one: the price of Dreams
Alice Carter woke up to the sound of her alarm, a shrill reminder that reality was waiting. She stretched lazily, blinking against the dull light filtering through the thin curtains of her tiny apartment. The room was cold, the air thick with the lingering scent of last night's cheap takeout.
With a sigh, she reached for the worn leather journal resting on her nightstand. The cover was cracked, the pages dog-eared from years of use. This diary had been her silent confidant, the keeper of her most intimate thoughts—the ones she dared not voice out loud.
She flipped to the next empty page and pressed the tip of her pen against it, the ink bleeding into the paper as she began to write.
"One day, I will wake up in silk sheets, not these scratchy polyester ones I found on sale. There will be no blaring alarm clock, no rushing to catch a cab in the biting cold. Instead, I will stretch like a queen in a bed too large for just one person. My husband will be rich, powerful, and utterly devoted to me. Servants will bring me breakfast in bed—fresh fruit, warm croissants, and coffee brewed to perfection. No more struggling. No more making ends meet. Just a life of luxury, comfort, and ease."
She paused, tapping the pen against her lip, before adding:
"And I will never have to beg the universe for anything again."
A deep sigh escaped her as she closed the diary, hugging it to her chest for a moment before setting it aside. It was the same ritual every morning—a fleeting escape into the life she wished she had.
But dreams didn't pay the rent.
Dragging herself out of bed, Alice shuffled into the tiny bathroom. The mirror above the sink reflected her tired brown eyes and hair that hadn't seen a salon in months. She sighed, smoothing down the unruly strands before getting dressed in her usual work attire—a plain blouse, a skirt that had seen better days, and heels that pinched her toes.
By the time she made it outside, the bitter wind whipped against her face, and she cursed under her breath as she pulled out her phone.
"Cab fare: $14.32."
Alice hesitated. She could take the subway and save the money, but the thought of being crammed between sweaty strangers made her stomach turn. With a resigned sigh, she hailed a cab, watching as another chunk of her paycheck disappeared.
As she slid into the back seat, she glanced at the city passing by—the towering skyscrapers, the glimmering storefronts, the women who stepped out of chauffeur-driven cars wearing designer heels she could only dream of affording.
One day, she promised herself. One day, she wouldn't be the woman staring out of the cab window. She would be the woman on the other side of the glass, stepping into a world that belonged to her.
She just had to find the right man to get her there.
Alice's heels clicked against the marble floors as she stepped into the grand ballroom of The Astoria Hotel, a venue so extravagant it made her tiny apartment feel even smaller in comparison. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a golden glow over the elite guests dressed in designer gowns and tailored suits. The air smelled of wealth—expensive perfume, aged whiskey, and the kind of effortless elegance money could buy.
She adjusted the press badge clipped to her dress and clutched her notepad, trying to ignore the envious knot tightening in her stomach. Tonight, she wasn't here as a guest—she was just another journalist covering the city's most prestigious charity gala, writing about people who would never remember her name.
"Alice, focus," she muttered under her breath, forcing herself to remember the task at hand.
Her editor had made it clear—tonight's article wasn't about the charity itself. It was about them—the wealthy, the powerful, the untouchable. The readers didn't care about the cause; they cared about the billionaires attending, their outfits, and the scandals waiting to unfold.
She scanned the room, her gaze landing on Damien Lancaster, the heir to a vast business empire, effortlessly charming as he laughed with other high-profile guests. His presence dominated the space—tall, confident, exuding power in the way only old money could.
Alice had written about men like him before, but standing this close, she couldn't help but feel drawn in.
As if sensing her stare, Damien turned his head slightly, his sharp blue eyes locking onto hers. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
And just like that, Alice felt it—that intoxicating pull toward the world she so desperately wanted to be part of.
Alice twirled the stem of her champagne glass between her fingers, her gaze flickering across the ballroom. The laughter of the wealthy echoed around her, their effortless charm making her feel even more out of place.
"You're staring again," a familiar voice teased.
Alice turned to see Rachel Monroe, her oldest and most brutally honest friend, giving her a knowing look. Rachel was the definition of self-made success—smart, independent, and unapologetically ambitious. Unlike Alice, she never believed in fairy-tale endings handed out by rich men.
"You're going to tell me I'm being ridiculous, aren't you?" Alice sighed, taking a sip of her drink.
Rachel smirked. "Not ridiculous. Just… misguided. You don't need a billionaire to save you, Alice. You're smart, talented—you can have all of this on your own terms."
Alice scoffed, gesturing toward the chandeliers and the designer-clad women draped over their wealthy husbands. "Sure, Rachel. Let me just p
ull a few .
Sure, Rachel. Let me just pull a few million dollars out of thin air and buy my way into this world." Alice's tone was laced with sarcasm as she took another sip of champagne, the bubbles sharp on her tongue.
Rachel didn't flinch. She never did. Instead, she arched a perfectly shaped brow and leaned in. "You think these women are happy?" She gestured discreetly toward a group of socialites, their laughter too perfect, their smiles too practiced. "They may have the diamonds and the yachts, but how many of them have real independence? Real control?"
Alice rolled her eyes. "Rachel, don't start."
"I have to," Rachel insisted. "Because I know you, Alice. You're chasing a dream that might turn into a nightmare. You think a rich husband is the answer, but what happens when he decides you're not good enough anymore? When he starts controlling everything—your clothes, your friends, your entire life?"
Alice opened her mouth to argue, but Rachel held up a hand. "Look, I get it. You want security. You're tired of struggling. But you don't need to sell yourself short to get it. You're a damn good journalist. You could be running this city one day—on your own terms, not because some man put you in a golden cage."
Alice exhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around her glass. "And what if I don't want to wait? What if I want it now?"
Rachel gave her a sad smile. "Then I just hope you don't wake up one day and realize you lost yourself in the process."
For the first time that night, Alice felt a pang of doubt creep in. But as she glanced back at Damien Lancaster, his smirk still lingering in her mind, she pushed it away.
Rachel didn't understand.
Rachel had never wanted the kind of life Alice did.
And Alice wasn't sure she was willing to wai
t forever to get it.Alice sat at her desk the next morning, staring at the blank document on her screen. The words refused to come. She had attended the gala, observed the wealthy, even had an almost-moment with Damien Lancaster—and yet, all she could think about was Rachel's words.
"You don't need to sell yourself short."
But was it really selling herself short? Was wanting security and luxury such a crime?
With a frustrated sigh, Alice leaned back in her chair. That was when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and nearly dropped the device.
Damien Lancaster.
Her pulse spiked. How did he even have her number? Hesitant but intrigued, she answered.
"Alice." His voice was smooth, confident—like he already knew she'd pick up.
She swallowed. "Mr. Lancaster. What a surprise."
A low chuckle. "I don't like surprises, Alice. I prefer… control."
A shiver ran down her spine. This man played a different game than she was used to. Dangerous, unpredictable.
"I read your piece on the gala," he continued. "It was sharp. Observant."
Alice raised an eyebrow. "You read it?"
"I don't waste time on things that don't interest me."
There it was again—that pull. The way his words made her feel like she was already stepping into his world.
"I'd like to meet," Damien said. "Over dinner."
Alice's breath caught. "Is this about an interview?"
A pause. Then, smoothly, "It's about opportunity."
She knew she should say no. But the truth was, Rachel's words weren't enough to kill the hunger inside her.
She wanted to see where this could lead.
So she whispered the one word that could change everything.
"Yes."
Alice could barely contain her excitement as she dialed Rachel's number, her fingers tapping against the edge of her desk. The moment Rachel answered, Alice blurted out, "Damien Lancaster just asked me to dinner!"
There was silence. Then, Rachel sighed. "Alice… tell me you're joking."
Alice frowned. "Why would I joke about this? This is huge!"
"Huge for what? Your career or your fantasy of marrying a billionaire?" Rachel's voice was sharp, cutting straight through Alice's excitement.
Alice rolled her eyes. "You're always so dramatic. He read my article, Rachel. He liked it. He wants to meet. Maybe he sees potential in me."
Rachel let out a dry laugh. "Oh, I'm sure he sees potential. But let's be real—men like Damien Lancaster don't just 'see potential' in women like us. He's rich, powerful, and used to getting whatever he wants. Are you sure you're ready to play that game?"
Alice clenched her jaw. "Maybe I don't see it as a game. Maybe this is my chance to step into the world I've always wanted."
Rachel's tone softened, but it didn't lose its edge. "Alice, listen to me. I'm not saying don't go. I'm saying—be smart. Don't get caught up in the fantasy. You're worth more than being some rich man's new obsession."
Alice hesitated, Rachel's words pulling at something deep inside her. But then she thought about Damien—his smirk, his confidence, the way he made her feel seen.
And she made her choice.
"I'll be fine, Rachel."
Rachel sighed again, but this time it sounded resigned. "Just… call me after, okay?"
Alice smiled. "I will. I promise."
But as she hung up the phone, she couldn't shake the feeling that Rachel's warning had settled in her chest, waiting for the moment it would prove itself right.
Alice stood in front of her closet, hands on her hips, eyes scanning the uninspiring selection of clothes. Nothing in here screamed luxury. Nothing whispered wealth. And yet, tonight, she was supposed to sit across from Damien Lancaster—a man who probably spent more on a single cufflink than she did on rent.
She exhaled sharply, pulling out a simple black dress. It was sleek, fitted, and the closest thing she had to expensive-looking. But as she held it against her frame, doubt crept in. Would he see her as an outsider? Would he look at her the way the wealthy always did—like she was a temporary visitor in their world?
Shaking the thought away, she placed the dress on the bed and moved to her vanity, pulling her hair into a loose but effortless style. Effortless. That was what the rich did best. They made it seem like everything was easy, natural—when in reality, it was all carefully curated.
As she applied her lipstick, she found herself thinking about Rachel.
"You're worth more than being some rich man's new obsession."
Alice frowned at her reflection. Was she really being reckless? Or was she just taking control of her life?
Rachel didn't understand—she never had. Alice didn't want to wait years for success, struggling, clawing her way up like Rachel. She wanted a shortcut. A chance. A door that opened without needing to be knocked on a thousand times.
And if Damien Lancaster was offering that door… why shouldn't she walk through it?
Her phone buzzed.
Damien: A car will pick you up at 7. Don't keep me waiting, Alice.
A shiver ran down her spine. He was already in control.
And the strangest part?
She liked it.Alice had just zipped up her dress when her phone buzzed again. Expecting another message from Damien, she glanced at the screen—only to feel her stomach drop.
Jack.
She hesitated before answering.
"Hey." Her voice was careful, almost guilty.
"Hey?" Jack's tone was sharp. "That's all you have to say? Alice, I haven't heard from you in days. What's going on?"
She pressed a hand to her forehead, turning away from the mirror. "I've been busy."
Jack let out a bitter laugh. "Too busy to send a text? To call? What the hell, Alice?"
Her throat tightened. Jack was a good guy. Steady. Safe. Everything she used to think she wanted. But lately… he felt like a weight around her ankles, pulling her back to a life she wasn't sure she wanted anymore.
"I just… I've had a lot on my mind," she admitted.
"Yeah? Like what?" Jack asked. "Or is this about that gala you went to? The one with all those rich assholes?"
Alice stiffened. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" Jack scoffed. "Alice, I know you. I know how much you want out of this life. But running to a billionaire to fix your problems? That's not you."
Her grip on the phone tightened. "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think."
Silence. Then, softer, "Alice… is there someone else?"
Her heart pounded. Was there?
She should have said no. But instead, she whispered, "I have to go, Jack."
She ended the call before she could hear his reply.
Her phone buzzed again.
Damien: Your car is outside. Time to decide what you really want, Alice.
She swallowed hard, slipping the phone into her clutch.
And without looking back, she walked out the door.
Alice had barely stepped outside when her phone buzzed again. She sighed, already knowing who it was before she even looked.
Rachel.
She rolled her eyes and answered. "Rachel, if this is another lecture—"
"Alice, what is going on with you?" Rachel interrupted. "First, you call me gushing about Damien Lancaster, then Jack calls me saying you won't talk to him. And now you're ignoring both of us?"
Alice groaned. "Oh my God. Is there a group chat where you all discuss my life?"
Rachel wasn't amused. "Don't be dramatic. Jack is worried about you. And honestly? So am I."
Alice sighed, rubbing her temple. "Rachel, I don't need a babysitter. I just need—" She hesitated, glancing at the sleek black car parked at the curb, Damien's driver waiting patiently. "I just need to figure things out on my own."
Rachel's voice softened. "Alice, I get it. You want more. But don't lose yourself trying to get it."
Alice clenched her jaw. "Maybe I'm not lost, Rachel. Maybe I'm just waking up."
Rachel exhaled heavily. "I hope you're right. Just… call me after, okay?"
Alice didn't promise this time. Instead, she simply said, "Goodnight, Rachel."
Before Rachel could argue, Alice hung up, slipped her phone into her bag, and walked toward the car.
Tonight, she wasn't Alice the journalist. She wasn't Alice the struggling woman.
Tonight, she was stepping into a world where people like Damien Lancaster played by their own rules.
And she was ready to play.
Alice sank into the plush leather seat of the luxury car, the scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air. The driver, an older man in a crisp black suit, gave her a polite nod before pulling away from the curb.
She let out a slow breath, watching the city lights blur past the window. Rachel. Jack. Their voices still echoed in her mind, colliding with her own thoughts.
"Alice, don't lose yourself."
"Alice, is there someone else?"
She clenched her fists in her lap. Why did they make it sound like she was doing something wrong? Was it so terrible to want more? To reach for something bigger than the life she had now?
Jack wanted stability. Rachel wanted independence. But what about what she wanted?
She had spent years working hard, scraping by, writing article after article, hoping for a break that never seemed to come. Meanwhile, women like the ones at Damien's gala waltzed through life, effortlessly beautiful, effortlessly wealthy. They had options. They had power.
And now, for the first time, she felt like she was on the edge of that world.
Her phone vibrated in her bag. She knew it was probably Jack or Rachel again.
She didn't look.
Instead, she leaned back into the seat, closed her eyes, and whispered to herself,
"I deserve this."
Outside, the city stretched before her—glittering, endless, waiting.
And so was Damien Lancaster.
The car pulled up in front of an upscale restaurant, the kind Alice had only seen in magazines. The valet opened her door, and she stepped out, straightening her dress as her heels clicked against the pavement.
Inside, the restaurant was dimly lit, with chandeliers casting a golden glow over elegantly dressed patrons. Waiters in crisp black suits moved silently between tables, pouring wine and serving dishes Alice couldn't even name.
Then she saw him.
Damien Lancaster.
Seated at a private table in the back, effortlessly commanding attention without trying. His dark suit was tailored to perfection, his posture relaxed, yet somehow powerful. When his gaze met hers, a slow, knowing smile curved his lips.
Alice swallowed hard.
A waiter guided her toward the table, and as she approached, Damien stood, pulling out her chair himself. "Alice." His voice was smooth, confident. "You look stunning."
She sat down, forcing a smile. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."
He chuckled, taking his seat across from her. "I was starting to think you might not come."
Alice reached for the menu, more to steady herself than anything. "Why would you think that?"
Damien leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. "Because I know a woman at a crossroads when I see one."
Her fingers tightened around the menu. "And what makes you think I'm at a crossroads?"
He studied her for a moment before answering. "Because I can tell you're torn between what you've always been told is right and what you really want."
A waiter arrived with a bottle of wine, pouring them each a glass. Alice took a sip, letting the rich taste settle on her tongue before speaking. "And you think you know what I really want?"
Damien's smile didn't waver. "I think you're here because you're ready to find out."
Alice exhaled slowly, setting her glass down.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe that's exactly why she was here.
Alice met Damien's gaze, steady and unwavering. "And what if I'm just here for dinner?" she challenged, swirling the wine in her glass.
Damien smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Then I'd say you're lying to yourself."
She arched a brow. "You think you have me all figured out?"
He tapped a finger against the table, considering her. "Not yet. But I know ambition when I see it."
Alice scoffed. "Ambition? You make it sound like I'm plotting some grand takeover."
Damien chuckled. "Aren't you?" He gestured around the restaurant. "You want more than struggling for rent, chasing stories no one reads, and calling cabs when your heels hurt. You want a life where you don't have to ask for anything—because it's already yours."
Alice stiffened. His words struck too close. Too accurate.
She lifted her chin. "And what's wrong with that?"
Damien's smirk widened. "Nothing. In fact, I admire it."
The waiter returned with their first course—an intricate plate of seafood, delicately plated. Alice barely looked at it.
"So what's your grand plan, Damien?" she asked, cutting through the tension. "Are you trying to lure me into your world? Make me one of those women who lunch and shop while their husbands do the real work?"
Damien let out a low laugh. "If that's what you think I'm offering, then you don't know me at all."
Alice narrowed her eyes. "Then tell me. What exactly are you offering?"
He lifted his glass, taking his time before answering. "A choice."
Alice frowned. "A choice?"
Damien leaned in, voice low, as if the words were meant for her alone. "You can keep playing by the rules you've been given. Or…" He trailed off, letting the weight of the silence sink in before finishing, "You can rewrite them."
Alice's breath caught.
It wasn't just the words—it was the way he said them. Like he saw something in her she hadn't fully admitted to herself yet.
She picked up her fork, breaking eye contact first.
"Rewrite the rules?"
Maybe… just maybe, she was ready to.
Alice speared a piece of seafood with her fork, but she wasn't really tasting it. Damien's words lingered, circling in her mind like smoke.
"Rewrite the rules?"
She set her fork down carefully. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"
Damien tilted his head slightly, watching her with amusement. "You're a journalist, Alice. You tell me."
She crossed her arms. "You're being vague on purpose."
He smirked. "And you're intrigued anyway."
Alice exhaled, leaning forward. "If you have something to say, just say it."
Damien took his time, swirling the wine in his glass before speaking. "You have talent, Alice. Ambition. You shouldn't be wasting your time chasing low-paying stories for a publication that doesn't value you."
She stiffened. "And what do you suggest I do instead?"
He met her gaze. "Come work for me."
Alice blinked. "Excuse me?"
Damien leaned back in his chair, as if the offer was the most natural thing in the world. "I own several media companies. I could put you in a position where your work actually matters. Where you wouldn't have to struggle for scraps. Where you'd have power."
Alice hesitated, her pulse quickening. Power.
That word alone was enough to send a rush of heat through her.
But she forced herself to stay logical. "And what exactly would my job be?"
Damien studied her. "You'd still be a journalist, but not the kind who waits for opportunities to come. You'd be in the room where the real stories happen. The kind of stories that don't get printed unless the right person allows them to be."
Alice's stomach twisted. "So you want me to… what? Be your personal media puppet?"
Damien chuckled. "I prefer the term 'insider.'"
She stared at him, trying to piece together his angle.
He wasn't just offering her a job. He was offering her a seat at the table.
And he knew exactly how tempting that was.
Alice wet her lips. "And what do you get out of this?"
Damien smiled, slow and deliberate. "I get you, Alice."
Her breath hitched.
The way he said it—like she was a prize, a gamble, a risk he was willing to take.
She should have been insulted. Instead, she felt… exhilarated.
This wasn't about romance.
This was about power.
And for the first time in her life, she felt like she might actually be holding some.
Alice leaned back in her chair, heart pounding. "You get me?" she repeated, narrowing her eyes. "That's a bold statement, Damien."
Damien smirked, fingers lightly tracing the rim of his wine glass. "I don't make offers unless I'm confident in the outcome."
She exhaled sharply, trying to regain control of the conversation. "And what if I say no?"
He shrugged, utterly unbothered. "Then you'll go back to chasing stories that barely pay your rent while watching other people make the decisions that shape the world." He tilted his head. "But we both know you're not the type to sit on the sidelines, Alice."
Her jaw tightened. He was pushing all the right buttons, testing her resolve, forcing her to admit things she wasn't sure she was ready to face.
"You think you know me so well."
Damien chuckled. "I know what ambition looks like. And I know what hunger sounds like." He leaned in slightly. "You're starving, Alice."
A shiver ran down her spine.
She could play dumb, pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. But she did. She felt it every time she looked at her bank account. Every time she saw someone with connections get ahead while she struggled. Every time she felt trapped in a life that never seemed to go anywhere.
She picked up her wine glass and took a slow sip, buying herself a moment. "And what happens if I take your offer?"
Damien's eyes darkened with something unreadable. "Then you get exactly what you want."
Alice lowered the glass, her fingers tightening around the stem. "And at what cost?"
A beat of silence. Then Damien smirked.
"Everything has a price, Alice. But the real question is—are you willing to pay it?"
Her breath caught.
Because deep down, she already knew the answer.
Alice placed her wine glass down with a deliberate clink, meeting Damien's gaze head-on. "In as much as your offer is very tempting, Damien, I am not a property to be bought, nor one of your cars to be owned."
A flicker of amusement crossed his face, but she didn't let him interrupt.
"I believe in happy ever after." Her voice was firm, steady. "I believe in working hard for what I want, not having it handed to me like some prize for playing by someone else's rules."
Damien exhaled slowly, resting his elbows on the table. "Happy ever after," he mused, as if tasting the words. "And what does that look like to you, Alice?"
She lifted her chin. "It's not about wealth or power. It's about having control over my own life. My own choices. Not being someone's… kept woman."
Damien's smirk faded just slightly. "You think that's what I'm offering?"
Alice folded her arms. "Aren't you?"
He studied her for a long moment, the air between them charged. Then, instead of arguing, he leaned back, swirling his wine. "Fair enough."
She blinked. "That's it?"
He chuckled. "You're smart, Alice. And you know exactly what you want. I like that." He lifted his glass in a silent toast. "Consider my offer open-ended. When you're ready to stop chasing fairy tales, you know where to find me."
Alice's fingers curled around the edge of the table. "I'm not chasing fairy tales, Damien. I just refuse to lose myself for a shortcut."
His eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "We'll see."
The waiter arrived with the bill, and before Alice could even think about reaching for her purse, Damien had already placed his black card down.
She sighed. "I could've paid for my own dinner."
Damien smirked. "I know. But I enjoy spoiling women who can't be bought."
Alice rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the small smile tugging at her lips.
As she stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against her skin, she exhaled deeply.
Damien was dangerous—tempting, intelligent, and utterly unreadable.
But she wasn't going to let herself be just another woman who fell into his world without a fight.
She had her own path to carve
And she wasn't done proving it yet.
Alice kicked off her heels the moment she stepped into her apartment, sighing in relief as the tension from the evening began to melt away. She walked to the bathroom, wiping off her makeup with slow, deliberate strokes, watching her reflection.
"Mr. Wealth."
That's what she had silently named him. Damien was everything she had dreamed of—money, power, charm. But he was also a test. A temptation.
After slipping into her soft pajamas, she grabbed her diary from the nightstand and curled up on her bed, the city lights flickering through her window.
Opening to a fresh page, she let her thoughts spill onto the paper.
Dear Diary,
Tonight, I encountered Mr. Wealth.
A man who holds the keys to a world I've dreamed about. A world where I wouldn't have to struggle, where success wouldn't feel so far away.
But am I wrong in my motives?
Should I listen to Rachel, who tells me hard work will lead me to my dreams? Or should I follow Damien, who offers the shortcut, the power, the access?
I told him I believe in happy ever after. But do I? Or is that just something I say to make myself feel better?
Alice paused, tapping the pen against the page.
A part of her wanted to dismiss Damien entirely, to pretend he wasn't getting under her skin. But the truth was—he was.
With a sigh, she closed the diary, hugging it to her chest.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
A message from Jack.
Jack: Can we talk?
Alice stared at the screen.
Damien was the temptation.
Rachel was the voice of reason.
And Jack… Jack was the past she hadn't quite figured out yet.
She placed the phone back down, staring at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, she'd have to make a choice.
The blaring sound of her alarm barely registered in Alice's ears as she groggily turned over, burying her face in the pillow.
Then it hit her.
Work.
Her eyes flew open. "Oh, crap!"
She scrambled out of bed, her heart racing as she checked the time. She was late.
Dragging herself to the kitchen, she decided to make a quick breakfast, hoping to salvage what was left of her morning. But her half-awake state wasn't doing her any favors.
First, the eggs slipped from her hand, cracking onto the counter. "Ugh!"
Then, while reaching for the bread, she knocked over the milk carton, spilling it all over the floor.
"Oh, come on!"
Annoyed, she tossed everything in the trash, deciding that breakfast wasn't worth the hassle.
Still frustrated, she stormed into the bathroom, turning on the shower. As the warm water cascaded down her body, she exhaled, letting the tension melt away.
"Get it together, Alice."
Today was just another day. Another article to write. Another deadline to meet.
And another day of figuring out whether to listen to Rachel's wisdom, consider Jack's concern… or be lured by Damien's tempting offer.
Stepping out of the shower, she quickly dried off and got dressed, throwing her hair into a loose bun. With one last glance in the mirror, she grabbed her bag and rushed out the door
She had a long day ahead.
Alice hurried into the office, barely making it past the front desk before her boss's sharp voice called after her. "You're late again, Alice."
She winced, offering a sheepish smile. "Won't happen again."
Not waiting for a reply, she rushed to her desk, dropping her bag onto the chair. She was just about to open her laptop when she noticed a familiar figure standing near the break room.
Rachel.
Alice's eyes widened. What is she doing here?
Rachel, dressed in her usual polished style—tailored slacks, a sleek blouse, and heels that probably cost more than Alice's rent—smiled knowingly as she strolled over. "Rough morning?"
Alice groaned, rubbing her temples. "You have no idea."
Rachel perched on the edge of Alice's desk, crossing her arms. "I figured. That's why I brought this."
She held up a cup of coffee. Alice's favorite.
Alice sighed dramatically. "You really are my guardian angel." She grabbed the cup and took a sip, humming in satisfaction.
Rachel smirked. "I try."
Alice leaned back in her chair, studying her friend. "So, what brings you here? Just a coffee delivery, or are you here to interrogate me?"
Rachel tilted her head. "Both."
Alice rolled her eyes. "Of course."
Rachel's expression softened. "Alice, I know you've been thinking a lot lately. About your dreams, about Damien, about Jack." She hesitated. "I just want to make sure you're not losing yourself in all this."
Alice sighed, staring at her coffee. "I don't know, Rach. I want more for myself, but I don't want to take the easy way out either. And then there's Jack, acting like I owe him something."
Rachel nodded. "You don't owe anyone anything, Alice. But you do owe it to yourself to make decisions that won't leave you regretting things later."
Alice let Rachel's words sink in.
Rachel gave her a reassuring smile. "No matter what you decide, just remember—you don't need Damien's money to be successful. And you don't need Jack's approval to find happiness."
Alice swallowed hard, feeling a lump in her throat.
Rachel always knew exactly what to say.
Before Alice could respond, her boss called her name again, reminding her that she had work to do.
Rachel stood up. "Think about it, okay?"
Alice nodded. "Yeah. I will."
As Rachel walked away, Alice exhaled.
She needed to figure this out.
And soon.Alice tried to focus on her work, but Rachel's words lingered in her mind.
"You don't need Damien's money to be successful. And you don't need Jack's approval to find happiness."
She tapped her pen against the desk, staring at her blank document. The words wouldn't come. The thoughts wouldn't stop.
Then—her phone buzzed.
Jack. Again.
Jack: We need to talk, Alice.
She sighed. Jack wasn't the type to let things go. He wasn't aggressive, but he was persistent—sometimes too much.
Before she could decide whether to respond, a shadow fell over her desk.
Jack.
Alice's heart dropped. He's here?
Dressed in his usual casual button-up and jeans, Jack looked out of place in the corporate office. His expression was serious, his arms crossed as he studied her.
"You've been avoiding me," he said.
Alice let out a slow breath. "I've been busy."
Jack pulled out the chair across from her desk and sat down. "Too busy to send a text? Too busy to call your boyfriend?"
She tensed at the word. Boyfriend.
Was he still that? Or had things shifted?
Jack sighed, leaning forward. "Alice, what's going on with you? You're acting different. Distant."
Alice glanced around, aware of a few coworkers sneaking glances at them. "Jack, this isn't the place for this conversation."
"Then let's go somewhere private."
She hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. Ten minutes."
Jack nodded, standing up. "Let's go
Alice tried to focus on her work, but Rachel's words lingered in her mind.
"You don't need Damien's money to be successful. And you don't need Jack's approval to find happiness."
She tapped her pen against the desk, staring at her blank document. The words wouldn't come. The thoughts wouldn't stop.
Then—her phone buzzed.
Jack. Again.
Jack: We need to talk, Alice.
She sighed. Jack wasn't the type to let things go. He wasn't aggressive, but he was persistent—sometimes too much.
Before she could decide whether to respond, a shadow fell over her desk.
Jack.
Alice's heart dropped. He's here?
Dressed in his usual casual button-up and jeans, Jack looked out of place in the corporate office. His expression was serious, his arms crossed as he studied her.
"You've been avoiding me," he said.
Alice let out a slow breath. "I've been busy."
Jack pulled out the chair across from her desk and sat down. "Too busy to send a text? Too busy to call your boyfriend?"
She tensed at the word. Boyfriend.
Was he still that? Or had things shifted?
Jack sighed, leaning forward. "Alice, what's going on with you? You're acting different. Distant."
Alice glanced around, aware of a few coworkers sneaking glances at them. "Jack, this isn't the place for this conversation."
"Then let's go somewhere private."
She hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. Ten minutes."
Jack nodded, standing up. "Let's go."
—
Chapter Nineteen: The Talk
Alice and Jack found an empty conference room. The moment the door closed, Jack turned to face her.
"Talk to me, Alice. What's happening?"
She folded her arms. "Jack, I don't know. Things just feel… complicated."
Jack's jaw clenched. "Complicated how? Because of Damien?"
Alice froze. He knows?
Jack let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah. I heard. Some rich guy offering you the world. Is that why you've been distant?"
Alice met his gaze. "It's not that simple."
Jack took a step closer. "Then make me understand."
Alice exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Jack, I've spent my whole life struggling. Watching people with everything just… walk through life like it's easy. And then someone like Damien comes along and offers me that life. No struggle. No uncertainty."
Jack's eyes darkened. "And what? You think happiness comes in a diamond-encrusted box?"
Alice swallowed. "I don't know."
Jack ran a hand through his hair. "Alice, I know you want more. But taking shortcuts—letting someone buy your happiness—it's not you."
She bit her lip. "Maybe I don't know who I am anymore."
Silence.
Jack took her hands gently. "Then figure it out. But don't let Damien or anyone else define it for you."
Alice looked down. Jack had always been her anchor, the safe choice. But was safe what she wanted?
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed.
A text from Damien.
Damien: Dinner. Tonight. My place. Say yes.
Alice stared at the screen.
A choice.Alice stared at Damien's text, her fingers hovering over the screen.
Dinner. Tonight. My place. Say yes.
It was tempting—so tempting. The easy escape. The fantasy.
But then she looked up.
Jack was still there, waiting. His eyes held something Damien's never did—history, familiarity, and something real.
With a deep breath, Alice locked her phone and slipped it into her pocket.
"Jack… I don't want to lose us."
Relief flickered across his face. "Then don't."
He squeezed her hands, his warmth grounding her. "We'll figure it out, Alice. But you have to be honest with me."
She nodded. "I will. No more running."
Jack exhaled, his tense shoulders relaxing. "Good."
For the first time in days, Alice felt something settle in her chest.
Not certainty. Not complete peace.
But maybe… a step in the right direction.
—
Chapter Twenty-One: Drawing the Line
That evening, Alice sat on her bed, staring at Damien's message.
She had to respond.
Finally, she typed:
Alice: I can't come tonight. I need to figure things out on my own.
A few minutes passed before Damien replied.
Damien: Disappointing. But I respect it.
Alice let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
Damien was charming, powerful, and everything she once thought she wanted.
But Jack was home.
Alice and Jack sat across from each other in her small apartment, the air thick with unspoken words. The hum of the city outside her window filled the silence as she tried to gather her thoughts.
Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So... where do we go from here, Alice?"
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know. I just know I don't want to lose you."
Jack studied her. "Then be honest with me. Were you really considering Damien's offer?"
Alice hesitated before nodding. "I was. And that scares me."
Jack exhaled sharply. "Why?"
Alice looked away. "Because for the first time, someone made me feel like I could have everything I ever dreamed of—without working for it. And I hated how much I wanted that."
Jack's expression softened. "Alice, wanting an easier life doesn't make you a bad person. But letting someone else define your worth? That's where you lose yourself."
She swallowed. "I know. That's why I chose you. I want something real. Not a fantasy that could disappear the moment Damien gets bored."
Jack reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "I love you, Alice. But I need to know that you're with me because you want this—not because you're afraid of making the wrong choice."
Alice's heart clenched. "I do want this, Jack. I just… I need time to figure out who I am outside of all of this."
Jack nodded slowly. "Then we take it one step at a time. No pressure. Just us."
A small smile tugged at her lips. "Just us."
Jack pulled her into his arms, holding her close. For the first time in weeks, Alice felt something she hadn't felt in a long time.
And that mattered more.
For the first time in a long time, Alice woke up with a clear mind. No swirling thoughts about Damien. No guilt over Jack. Just a simple realization—it was time to focus on herself.
She made a decision that morning.
No distractions. No men defining her choices.
Just Alice, her career, and her future.
—
A New Routine
Alice poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at her desk, flipping open her laptop. Work had been on the back burner for too long. If she wanted success, she had to earn it.
She started pitching article ideas to her editor—bold, ambitious stories. Investigative pieces, lifestyle columns, even a personal essay about self-worth and ambition.
To her surprise, her editor responded within an hour.
Editor: Love these ideas, Alice. The personal essay? That one could really resonate. Let's run with it.
Alice stared at the email, heart pounding. Her words mattered.
She had been chasing a wealthy lifestyle through Damien, looking for security in Jack—but maybe what she really needed was to build something for herself.
—
Lunch with Rachel
Later that week, Alice met Rachel at a café, feeling lighter than she had in weeks.
Rachel smirked over her coffee. "You look… different. Less stressed."
Alice laughed. "I think I finally figured something out."
Rachel leaned in. "Oh? Do tell."
Alice stirred her tea. "I've spent so much time looking for an escape. Either through Jack, through Damien, through this fantasy of the perfect life. But I don't need saving. I just need to build something for myself."
Rachel's smile widened. "Now that is the Alice I knew was in there."
Alice grinned. "You were right, Rachel. I don't need a man to give me success. I need to work for it."
Rachel raised her cup. "To Alice's new beginning."
Alice clinked her glass against Rachel's. "To my new beginning."
Moving Forward
With a renewed sense of purpose, Alice threw herself into her work. She spent late nights writing, researching, and pushing herself further than ever before.
Her personal essay was published and went viral. Readers connected with her honesty, her struggle, and her realization that self-worth isn't bought—it's built.
For the first time in her life, Alice felt powerful—not because of a man, but because of herself.
For now.
Alice was sitting at her desk, scrolling through the overwhelming response to her latest article when her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: I see you've been busy, Miss Journalist. Congratulations on your success.
Her breath caught in her throat. There was no need to guess who it was.
Damien.
She stared at the message, her heart hammering against her ribs. She had pushed him out of her mind, convinced herself that part of her life was over. And yet, here he was—pulling her back in, just like that.
A second message followed.
Damien: Let's celebrate. My place. Tonight.
Alice exhaled sharply, locking her phone.
This was a test. A temptation.
She had worked so hard to reclaim her independence. Walking into Damien's world again, even for one night, could undo everything.
But a small, dangerous part of her whispered… What's the harm in one more conversation?
Later that evening, Alice found herself standing outside Damien's penthouse. She hadn't said yes, but somehow, she had ended up here.
The door opened before she could knock.
Damien stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe, looking as dangerously enticing as ever.
"I knew you'd come," he said smoothly, stepping aside to let her in.
Alice hesitated before walking inside. "I'm not here for what you think."
Damien smirked, pouring a drink. "Oh? Then why are you here?"
She crossed her arms. "To tell you that I don't need you, Damien. Whatever this was between us—it's over."
He walked toward her slowly, his presence overwhelming. "You sure about that, Alice?" His voice was like velvet, tempting and dangerous.
Alice swallowed. "Yes. I choose myself. My career. My future."
Damien studied her, then chuckled. "That's what I like about you. You're not afraid to fight me."
She straightened. "I'm not fighting you, Damien. I'm walking away."
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes—surprise.
And then… amusement.
"We'll see how long that lasts."
Jack's Doubts
Alice barely had time to process her conversation with Damien before Jack showed up at her apartment the next day.
His expression was unreadable. "You saw him, didn't you?"
She tensed. "How do you know?"
Jack sighed. "Because I know you, Alice. And I know Damien. He doesn't let go that easily."
Alice rubbed her temples. "It wasn't like that. I told him I was done."
Jack searched her face. "And do you mean it?"
That question stung. "Yes, Jack. I meant it."
He nodded slowly, but there was hesitation in his eyes. "I believe you, but… I just don't know if you believe yourself yet."
Alice opened her mouth to argue, but no words came.
Because deep down… Jack might be right.
A New Opportunity
As if the universe was testing her again, Alice received an email later that night.
Subject: Career Opportunity – Let's Talk
It was from a major publishing house.
They had read her viral article and wanted to discuss a book deal.
Alice's breath hitched. This was everything she had dreamed of. But it also meant big changes.
Leaving her job. Possibly moving cities. Stepping into an entirely new world.
And just like that… she was faced with another choice.
One that could change everything.Alice sat across from Jack at their favorite café, her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee that had gone cold.
"A book deal?" Jack repeated, his eyebrows raised.
Alice nodded, excitement bubbling inside her. "Yes! Can you believe it? A major publisher wants to work with me. This could be everything I've ever wanted, Jack."
She expected him to be happy for her. To encourage her. But instead, he leaned back, arms crossed, something unreadable in his expression.
"That's… huge," he said slowly. "Where would you have to go?"
Alice hesitated. "New York."
Jack exhaled sharply. "So you'd leave?"
Alice blinked. "It's not forever, Jack. It's just… an opportunity."
"An opportunity that takes you away from me."
His words sent a jolt through her.
"Jack, I—"
"No, I get it," he cut in. "I'm happy for you, Alice. Really. But we just started rebuilding things between us, and now you're telling me you might leave?"
Alice felt a pang of guilt. She had been so caught up in her excitement that she hadn't considered how it might affect Jack.
"I don't want to lose you," he admitted, his voice softer now.
Her heart twisted. "Jack, this is my dream."
"And what about us?"
Alice swallowed
hard. She didn't have an answer.
Alice met Rachel later that evening, still shaken from her conversation with Jack.
Rachel listened patiently before shaking her head. "Alice, are you really thinking about giving this up for Jack?"
Alice sighed. "It's not that simple. He's been there for me. He—"
Rachel cut her off. "And what about you? You worked for this. You dreamed about this. If Jack really loves you, he'll support you."
Alice ran a hand through her hair. "I don't want to lose him."
Rachel's gaze softened. "Then he needs to fight for you, Alice. Not hold you back."
Her friend's words struck a chord deep inside her.
Rachel was right.
Alice had spent too long shaping her life around others. Now, it was time to shape it for herself.
The next morning, Alice walked into the sleek office of the publishing house, nerves buzzing through her.
She was led into a glass-walled conference room, where a well-dressed executive greeted her with a warm smile. "Alice, we're so excited to have this meeting."
Alice smiled, shaking his hand. "I'm honored. Thank you for this opportunity."
Then she turned—and froze.
Because sitting at the end of the table, looking completely at ease, was Damien.
Her stomach flipped. What the hell was he doing here?
Damien smirked, tilting his head. "Surprise."
Alice's mind raced. Was this a coincidence… or was Damien pulling strings again?
One thing was clear—this meeting just got a whole lot more complicated.
Alice clenched her fists under the table, forcing herself to focus on the meeting rather than the man sitting so smugly across from her.
The publisher was outlining their vision for her book, talking about marketing strategies and release timelines, but Alice could barely process the words.
Damien was here.
Why?
When the meeting finally ended, Alice stood up abruptly.
"Damien. A word."
The executives exchanged polite glances before exiting, leaving them alone in the glass-walled room.
Damien leaned back in his chair, studying her with a lazy smirk. "I was wondering when you'd say something."
Alice crossed her arms. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Business," he said simply. "I invest in things that interest me. And right now, you're quite the interest."
Her stomach twisted. "You invested in my book deal?"
"Something like that."
Alice's heart pounded. "You had no right."
Damien's smirk faded slightly. "No right? I see a talented woman with a voice that deserves to be heard. You wanted success, Alice. I'm making sure you get it."
She took a step closer, anger simmering. "You don't own me, Damien."
His eyes darkened. "I never said I did."
Alice exhaled sharply. "If you think this is going to make me run back to you—"
Damien interrupted smoothly. "Relax, sweetheart. This isn't about us. It's about you. You can take the deal and never speak to me again if that's what you want."
She narrowed her eyes. "And you expect me to believe that?"
Damien stood, stepping closer, his voice lower now. "Believe whatever you want. But don't let your stubbornness ruin the biggest opportunity of your life."
Alice hated that his words made sense.
Hated that, despite everything, he
still had a way of getting under her skin.
Alice stormed out of the building, her pulse racing as she dialed Rachel's number.
"Alice?" Rachel's voice came through after a few rings. "How did the meeting go?"
Alice exhaled sharply, pacing the sidewalk. "Damien was there."
A pause. "Wait… what?"
"He's involved in the deal somehow. He claims it's just business, that he believes in me, but—" Alice shook her head. "Rachel, I don't know what to do."
Rachel let out a low whistle. "That man doesn't just coincidentally end up in your business, Alice. What do you think he wants?"
Alice hesitated. "Control."
Rachel sighed. "Sounds like him. But listen—forget Damien for a second. Do you want this deal?"
Alice bit her lip. "Yes. I mean, I've worked for this moment my entire life."
"Then don't let him ruin it for you."
Alice stopped pacing. "But if I take it, won't he think he's won?"
Rachel's voice turned firm. "Who cares what he thinks? This is your career, your success. If you want this, take it. And if Damien tries anything, shut him down."
Alice closed her eyes, letting the words sink in.
Rachel was right.
Damien didn't get to dictate her choices.
She did.
Alice took a deep breath, then dialed Damien's number.
He picked up after the first ring. "That was fast."
"Meet me at The Grand Lounge in an hour," she said, ignoring his smug tone. "We need to talk."
—
An hour later, Alice walked into the upscale bar, spotting Damien seated in a private booth, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
He smirked as she approached. "You look determined."
Alice slid into the seat across from him, locking eyes with him. "Let's get one thing straight—I'm taking the book deal, but you don't get to interfere in my life."
Damien sipped his drink. "Interfere? I'm just a businessman making smart investments."
Alice leaned in, her voice sharp. "I don't care what you call it. I don't belong to you, and you don't get to control me."
Damien tilted his head, studying her. "And what if I told you I don't want to control you? That I just want to see you succeed?"
Alice scoffed. "You don't do anything without a reason, Damien. So tell me—what's in it for you?"
A flicker of something passed through his eyes, but it was gone before she could read it. He leaned forward, his voice low. "Maybe I just enjoy watching you prove me wrong."
Alice refused to let his words affect her. "Then watch from a distance."
Damien chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are something else, Alice."
She stood up. "This conversation is over. Stay out of my way."
As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her. "For now."
She didn't look back.
But deep down, she knew Damien wasn't he type to stay away for long.
Alice walked out of the bar, her heels clicking against the pavement as she inhaled the cool night air. The conversation with Damien left her shaken, but she pushed it aside—tonight was supposed to be about moving forward, not getting caught in his web again.
She pulled out her phone and sent a message to Rachel:
Alice: Book deal is official. Drinks?
Rachel's reply came almost instantly.
Rachel: YES. You deserve it! My place in 30?
Alice smiled, relieved to have something—someone—grounding her.
—
Celebration at Rachel's Place
Rachel popped open a bottle of champagne as Alice flopped onto the couch.
"To your success!" Rachel toasted. "And to finally proving that you don't need a man to get what you want."
Alice clinked glasses with her. "Well… mostly."
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're still thinking about him."
Alice sighed. "It's not that simple, Rachel. He's always been this force in my life, pushing, tempting… I don't know if I'm imagining it, but sometimes it feels like he actually believes in me."
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Damien believes in Damien."
Alice laughed. "You're probably right."
Just as Alice was starting to relax, her phone buzzed. Jack's name flashed on the screen.
Rachel glanced at her. "You gonna answer that?"
Alice hesitated before picking up. "Hey, Jack."
His voice was tense. "Why didn't you tell me Damien was involved in your book deal?"
Alice closed her eyes. "I was going to tell you, but—"
"But what? You just conveniently forgot?" Jack snapped. "Alice, this is the same guy who—"
"I know who he is, Jack." Alice's voice hardened. "But this is my career. My decision."
There was a long silence on the other end.
"So, what? You're just going to let him be part of your success?" Jack finally said, voice laced with frustration.
Alice sighed. "I'm handling it."
Jack let out a humorless chuckle. "Are you? Because it sounds like he still has a hold on you."
Alice's chest tightened.
Does he?
Later that night, Alice returned home, still rattled by her conversation with Jack. Tossing her keys onto the counter, she noticed a package sitting on her coffee table.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She hadn't ordered anything.
With hesitant fingers, she unwrapped it.
Inside was a delicate diamond bracelet. No note. No sender's name.
Alice swallowed hard.
Damien.
She picked up her phone, staring at his name in her contacts.
Should she call him? Demand answers? Or ignore
him completely?
Alice sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the diamond bracelet shimmering under the soft glow of her bedside lamp. It was undeniably beautiful—delicate, elegant—but it carried an unspoken message, one she wasn't sure she wanted to decipher.
Her fingers hovered over her phone before she hit call.
Damien picked up almost instantly. "You got my gift."
Alice clenched her jaw. "What the hell is this, Damien?"
A low chuckle. "A congratulatory present. You landed the book deal—you should celebrate."
"Cut the act." Alice snapped. "You don't do anything without a reason."
Damien was silent for a moment before speaking, his voice smooth but unreadable. "Why does there have to be a reason? Maybe I just wanted to remind you of something."
Alice's stomach twisted. "And what would that be?"
"That success doesn't have to be lonely."
She sucked in a breath, caught between anger and something else—something more dangerous. "You don't get to send me gifts like this. I told you to stay out of my way."
Damien sighed. "And yet, here you are, calling me."
Her grip on the phone tightened. "I called because I want you to understand that I won't be bought. I won't be controlled. This—" she looked down at the bracelet, "—means nothing to me."
"Then throw it away."
Alice hesitated.
Damien laughed softly. "You won't."
Her breath hitched. He was right. She hadn't thrown it away yet.
"You don't know me as well as you think." Alice muttered.
"Oh, but I do," Damien murmured. "And that terrifies you, doesn't it?"
Alice swallowed hard.
She ended the call.
The bracelet sat in her palm, cool against her skin.
She should throw it away.
But she didn't.
Alice gripped her phone tightly. "You're impossible, Damien."
"And you're predictable," he countered smoothly. "I knew you'd call the moment you opened the box."
Her chest tightened. "You don't know everything about me."
"Don't I?" His voice was maddeningly calm. "You tell yourself you want success on your own terms, but deep down, you're afraid of failing. That's why you didn't refuse my deal outright. That's why you're still holding that bracelet instead of tossing it out."
Alice let out a sharp breath. "You think you have me all figured out?"
"I know you more than you know yourself."
She bit her lip, hating that part of her believed him. "Then tell me, Damien, what exactly do I want?"
There was a pause. Then, in a voice softer than she expected, he said:
"You want to prove everyone wrong, but you also don't want to do it alone."
Alice's heart pounded.
"That's not true," she whispered.
"Isn't it?"
Silence stretched between them.
Alice exhaled, steadying herself. "Listen to me, Damien. I won't be another pawn in your little game. I know what you're doing, and I won't fall for it."
"Fall for what?" He sounded amused.
"You want control. Power. To pull the strings."
Damien chuckled. "Alice, if I wanted control, I wouldn't be giving you choices. I'd be making them for you."
Her jaw clenched. "Then stop playing mind games."
"Who says I'm playing?"
Alice's breath hitched. There was something unnervingly genuine in his tone.
She forced herself to regain control. "I'm keeping this professional. That's all."
"You keep telling yourself that," Damien murmured. "Let me know when you're ready to admit the truth."
Alice could feel her pulse in her throat. She wanted to argue, but she knew Damien thrived on conflict—on getting under her skin.
So instead, she took a deep breath and said, "Goodnight, Damien."
She ended the call before he could say anything else.
The bracelet still lay in her palm.
She should throw it away.
But she didn't.Alice sat across from Rachel at their favorite café, stirring her coffee absentmindedly. The bracelet sat in her purse, weighing heavier than it should.
Rachel arched a brow. "Okay, you've been fidgeting since you got here. Spill."
Alice sighed, reaching into her bag and placing the bracelet on the table. It shimmered under the café's warm lights, mocking her.
Rachel's eyes widened. "That's… expensive." She looked at Alice knowingly. "Let me guess. Damien?"
Alice nodded, biting her lip.
Rachel leaned back, arms crossed. "And?"
Alice hesitated. "And… I don't know what to do with it."
Rachel let out a dry laugh. "That's a lie. You know exactly what you should do with it. The real question is, why haven't you?"
Alice looked away. "It's just a gift."
Rachel gave her a pointed look. "Alice."
Alice groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Okay, fine! It's not just a gift. It's a statement. A message. And I don't know how to respond."
Rachel took a sip of her tea, studying her. "You don't know how to respond because you're afraid of what it means. You claim you don't want to be bought, yet here you are, keeping a bracelet from a man who clearly wants something from you."
Alice's shoulders tensed. "It's not that simple."
"It is." Rachel leaned forward. "Do you want to be with Damien? Yes or no?"
Alice opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn't have an answer.
Rachel exhaled. "That's what I thought." She tapped the bracelet. "Be careful, Alice. You told me you wanted success on your own terms. Don't let a man with a big bank account rewrite your story."
Alice stared at the bracelet, her thoughts tangled.
Rachel reached for her bag. "I have to go, but think about what I said." She stood up, squeezing Alice's hand. "Just don't lose yourself, okay?"
Alice nodded numbly as Rachel walked away.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Jack.
Jack: I'm outside your apartment. We need to talk.
Her stomach flipped.
First Rachel. Now Jack.
Everyone was suddenly concerned about her choices.
And she wasn't sure how she felt about that.
And that scared her more than anything.
Alice stepped out of the cab, her heart pounding as she spotted Jack leaning against his car in front of her apartment building. He had his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
She swallowed hard, approaching cautiously. "Jack… what are you doing here?"
He pushed off the car, his eyes scanning her face. "I could ask you the same thing. You've been avoiding me, Alice."
Alice sighed, unlocking the door and stepping inside, leaving it open for him. He followed, shutting the door behind him.
She dropped her bag onto the couch. "I've been busy."
Jack scoffed. "Busy? Too busy to answer my calls? Too busy to let me know where we stand?"
Alice rubbed her temples. "Jack, I—"
His gaze flickered to the coffee table. There, lying carelessly next to her purse, was the diamond bracelet.
Silence.
Jack's jaw clenched as he picked it up. "What the hell is this?"
Alice stiffened. "It's nothing."
Jack let out a humorless laugh. "Nothing? Alice, this bracelet costs more than my car. Who gave it to you?"
Alice hesitated. "…Damien."
Jack inhaled sharply, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the bracelet. "Of course." He set it down with forced control. "Tell me you didn't take his money. Tell me you're not—"
"I'm not!" Alice snapped. "I didn't take anything from him."
Jack shook his head, frustration evident in his eyes. "Then what is this? A token of appreciation? A bribe?"
Alice folded her arms. "It's complicated."
Jack took a step closer. "No, Alice. It's not. Either you're entertaining Damien's games, or you're not. Which is it?"
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Jack exhaled, shaking his head. "That's what I thought."
Alice felt a pang of guilt. "Jack, please. It's not what you think."
His eyes softened, but only slightly. "Then prove it. Get rid of the bracelet."
Alice looked down at it, her heart racing.
Could she do it?
Would she?
Jack studied her hesitation, then nodded to himself. "I hope you figure out what you really want, Alice."
Without another word, he walked to the door.
"Jack—" she started, but he was already gone.
The silence left behind was deafening.
Alice stared at the bracelet.
This time, she picked it
up.Alice stared at her reflection in the mirror, smoothing out the fabric of her sleek black gown. The diamond bracelet sat on her wrist, sparkling under the warm lights of her vanity. It felt heavier than it should.
Rachel's warning echoed in her mind. So did Jack's frustration.
Yet here she was, wearing the bracelet to Damien's event.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Damien.
Damien: Your car is waiting downstairs. See you soon, Alice.
A deep breath. A final glance in the mirror. And then, she walked out the door.
—
The venue was pure elegance—crystal chandeliers, gold accents, and a crowd of New York's elite mingling with champagne flutes in hand. Alice stepped inside, feeling the weight of every glance that slid her way.
She wasn't just another journalist tonight. She was the woman standing beside Damien Cole.
And Damien? He was waiting for her near the bar, his gaze darkening as he took her in.
"You wore it." His voice was low, pleased.
Alice lifted her wrist slightly. "I did."
His lips curved into a knowing smirk. "Does that mean you've made your decision?"
Before she could answer, another voice interrupted.
"Alice?"
Her heart stopped.
Jack.
She turned, finding him standing a few feet away, disbelief written all over his face. His eyes flicked between her and Damien, landing on the bracelet.
Something shattered between them in that moment.
Alice's throat tightened. "Jack, I—"
But he just let out a soft, bitter chuckle. "I guess I got my answer."
He didn't wait for her response.
He just walked away.
And this time, Alice wasn't sure if he'd ever come back.Alice closed her eyes for a brief second, inhaling the rich scent of expensive cologne, champagne, and candle wax that lingered in the air.
Jack had walked away, but for once—just for tonight—she refused to let guilt weigh her down.
She wasn't here to overthink.
She was here to enjoy.
Damien watched her with that ever-knowing smirk. "You look like a woman deciding to let go."
Alice lifted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray. "For tonight? I am."
He leaned in slightly, his voice teasing. "Then let me give you a night worth remembering."
—
The evening passed in a whirlwind of music, conversation, and stolen glances.
Alice let herself be pulled into the luxury, the ease of Damien's world. She danced, laughed, and soaked in the attention that came with being on his arm.
For once, she didn't worry about tomorrow.
She let herself feel beautiful, powerful—like she belonged.
Damien leaned in at one point, his lips brushing close to her ear. "See? You were made for this."
Alice tilted her head, meeting his gaze. "Or maybe I just needed a reason to believe I was."
He chuckled, lifting her hand to press a soft kiss to the bracelet on her wrist. "Then let me be that reason."
And for the rest of the night, she let him.
The car slowed to a stop in front of Alice's apartment. The city lights cast a soft glow on the quiet street, a stark contrast to the dazzling world she had just left behind.
Damien stepped out first, making his way around the car to open the door for her.
"Such a gentleman," Alice teased, a playful glint in her eyes as she took his hand.
He smirked. "Only for you."
They walked slowly to her doorstep, the night air cool against her skin. The bracelet still gleamed on her wrist, a silent reminder of everything she had let herself indulge in tonight.
She turned to him, unsure of what to say, but Damien didn't wait for words. He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek.
"I meant what I said," he murmured. "You were made for this."
Alice swallowed, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
Then, without hesitation, Damien leaned in.
His lips brushed against hers—soft at first, a gentle promise. But when she didn't pull away, he deepened the kiss, his hand resting at the small of her back, drawing her closer.
Alice melted into him, the warmth of his touch, the taste of champagne still lingering on his lips. For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not Jack. Not Rachel's warnings. Not the uncertainty of what came next.
Just this.
When he pulled back, his eyes searched hers. "A night to remember?"
Alice exhaled, a slow smile curving her lips. "You were right."
Damien's smirk returned. "I usually am."
She shook her head, laughing softly as she stepped back toward the door. "Goodnight, Damien."
"Goodnight, Alice."
He didn't press for more. He simply watched as she disappeared inside, leaving her with a racing heart and the undeniable truth.
She had crossed a line tonight.
And there was no turning back
Sunlight streamed through the curtains, dragging Alice from the depths of sleep. Her head ached slightly—not from drinking, but from the weight of the night before.
She rolled onto her side, eyes landing on the bracelet still wrapped around her wrist.
Damien's words echoed in her mind.
"You were made for this."
She closed her eyes, trying to hold onto the euphoria of last night, the feeling of being desired, admired, wanted.
But then—Jack's voice cut through it.
"I guess I got my answer."
Alice sat up abruptly, groaning as she buried her face in her hands.
What had she done?
She reached for her phone. Several missed calls.
Rachel [2 Missed Calls]
Jack [1 Missed Call]
Her stomach twisted. She wasn't ready for either of those conversations.
Instead, she forced herself out of bed, heading straight for the shower, hoping the warm water would wash away the guilt creeping in.
But no amount of scrubbing could erase the feeling that she had just made a choice that would change everything.
Alice sat on the edge of her bed, gripping her phone. She had ignored Rachel's calls last night, hoping to delay the inevitable conversation. But she knew Rachel wouldn't let it go.
Taking a deep breath, she called back.
Rachel answered on the first ring. "Alice."
Alice winced at the sharpness in her tone. "Morning to you too."
"Don't do that," Rachel snapped. "I called you last night. Twice."
Alice sighed, leaning back against the headboard. "I know. I was… preoccupied."
"Preoccupied? Alice, you left with Damien. And then Jack called me, sounding like he'd been punched in the gut."
Guilt stabbed through her chest. "Jack called you?"
Rachel sighed. "He asked if I'd spoken to you, and when I said no, he just—he didn't say much. Just thanked me and hung up."
Alice closed her eyes. Jack wasn't the kind of guy to beg or demand answers. He walked away quietly, and somehow, that made it hurt more.
"Alice," Rachel's voice softened. "I know last night was probably magical. But you have to ask yourself—was it real? Or was it just the thrill of stepping into Damien's world?"
Alice opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Rachel sighed. "You're playing with fire, Alice. And you know it."
Silence stretched between them. Finally, Alice whispered, "I need to think."
Rachel exhaled. "Just don't take too long. Some things… once they break, they don't fix."
—
After hanging up, Alice hesitated before dialing Jack's number. It rang. And rang.
Then, voicemail.
She swallowed hard, her heart sinking.
Jack wasn't ready to talk.
And for the first time, Alice wondered if he ever would be.
Alice sat across from Rachel at a quiet café, stirring her coffee absentmindedly.
Rachel folded her arms, watching her closely. "You're really torn up about this, huh?"
Alice sighed. "I messed up, Rachel. Jack didn't deserve that. I need to apologize, but I don't know how."
Rachel tilted her head. "What are you thinking? Showing up at his place unannounced? Cooking him a meal? Dressing up in something nice?"
Alice groaned. "I don't know. Would any of that even work?"
Rachel sighed. "That depends. Are you apologizing because you feel guilty or because you actually want him back?"
Alice blinked, caught off guard. "I—" She hesitated. "I don't know."
Rachel leaned in. "Then that's your problem, Alice. You can't just throw on a pretty dress and expect everything to be okay. Jack's not that kind of guy."
Alice bit her lip. "Then what do I do?"
Rachel took a sip of her drink before answering. "Be honest with him. No games, no grand gestures. Just tell him the truth."
Alice exhaled heavily. That was the hardest part. Facing him. Admitting everything.
Rachel gave her a knowing look. "And Alice? Before you go apologizing, figure out what you really want. Jack deserves that much."
Alice nodded slowly, her mind swirling with thoughts.
Alice stared down at her coffee, her fingers tracing the rim of the cup. "What if he doesn't even want to hear me out?"
Rachel arched a brow. "Then you respect that. You don't get to decide how he reacts, Alice."
Alice groaned, leaning back in her chair. "Ugh. Why is this so complicated?"
Rachel sighed. "Because emotions are complicated. You weren't just playing dress-up in Damien's world—you crossed a line. Whether or not you meant to hurt Jack, you did."
Alice flinched. "I know."
Rachel tapped her nails against the table. "Look, if you want my advice, don't do anything dramatic. Just be real with him. Tell him you made a mistake. Tell him you got swept up in something you didn't fully understand."
Alice nodded, absorbing her words. "But what if… what if I don't regret it?"
Rachel's expression hardened slightly. "Then you owe him even more honesty. If you're still drawn to Damien, don't lead Jack on. That's not fair to him."
Alice let out a slow breath. "I just wish I could fix this without hurting anyone."
Rachel gave her a sad smile. "Life doesn't work that way, Alice. Love doesn't either."
Alice looked away, biting her lip. "I just don't want to lose Jack completely."
Rachel reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "Then talk to him. And be ready for whatever comes next."
Alice nodded, her resolve
hardening. It was time.
Alice exhaled deeply, running a hand through her hair. "It's not that I don't like Jack—I do. He's kind, he's patient, and he genuinely cares about me."
Rachel nodded. "Then what's stopping you?"
Alice hesitated, swirling her coffee absentmindedly. "My dream. My whole life, I've wanted to marry a wealthy man, to have luxury, to never have to struggle again. And Damien… he's dangerous, exciting, full of adventure and passion. He makes me feel things I never expected."
Rachel leaned forward. "And Jack?"
Alice smiled faintly. "Jack is safe. He doesn't push me beyond my limits like Damien does. He doesn't challenge me in ways that scare me. With him, I feel comfort. But with Damien… it's like standing on the edge of something I don't understand."
Rachel studied her for a moment. "So what do you really want, Alice? Love? Passion? Security? Or just the fantasy of it all?"
Alice fell silent.
Rachel sighed. "Because if you don't figure that out, you're going to hurt both of them—and yourself in the process."
Alice looked down, her heart conflicted. "I know."
Rachel gave her a pointed look. "Then it's time to decide."Alice's voice wavered as she stared at Rachel. "That's the problem—I don't want to hurt Jack by telling him no. He's been there for me, always respecting my decisions. I can't just push him away like he doesn't matter."
Rachel sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Alice, you can't stay with someone just because you don't want to hurt them. That's not fair to him—or to you."
Alice clenched her fists. "But what if I regret it? What if I let go of someone who actually loves me, someone who treats me right?"
Rachel gave her a knowing look. "And what if you stay, and you realize you only did it out of guilt? What if you end up resenting him because deep down, your heart was never fully his?"
Alice shook her head, frustrated. "It's not that simple, Rachel."
Rachel sighed. "It never is. But you have to be honest with yourself. Jack deserves that."
Alice swallowed hard. "And Damien?"
Rachel smirked. "Damien will survive, trust me. He doesn't strike me as the type to be heartbroken for long."
Alice let out a dry laugh. "That's what scares me."
Rachel reached across the table, squeezing her hand. "Then figure it out, Alice. But do it soon, before you lose both of them."
Alice nodded slowly, the weight of her choices pressing down on her.
She had to do this right.