I step back from the lectern, my heart a live wire, and nod to the moderator. The applause is tepid, uncertain, but I don’t linger. I’m not here for their approval. I’m here for her.
I slip through a side door, pulse now roaring, and head for the staff corridors. She’s here, cleaning, her pride stitched into every scrub because of the hell I’ve put her through.
I asked Rafe Sterling to confirm her schedule, not to interfere, just to know where she’d be. He refused to answer any questions.
In my desperation, I turned to Celeste
After ascertaining my intentions and telling me it was about time I’d pulled my big head out of my ass, she gave me a stern warning. If I hurt Seraphina again, she would personally destroy me and burn down everything my family has ever built.
And she has the secrets to do so.
I promised her the only thing I wanted is to apologize and beg for a second chance.
Only then did she agree to help.
Within hours, she was in office with a current dossier.
Seraphina is living with Tasha, making food deliveries again, and she went back to Rafe for a temporary position while she searched for a company that would take her. She’d refused to work at the Uptown, and he honored her request.
But she is here, at this hotel. And I’m going to find her.
My shoes squeak against the floor, the sterile scent of bleach stinging my nose as I navigate the maze of service halls. I’m hoping security doesn’t stop me, especially since Rafe has no doubt warned them to be on guard again my presence.
My suit feels like a lie, too polished for the person I am now—a tattered, desperate man with a broken heart.
I find her in a storage room, surrounded by mops and cleaning supplies, her maid’s uniform clinging to her curves, her dark hair spilling from a messy bun. She’s wiping down a cart, her movements mechanical, her face shadowed with exhaustion.
And she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I pause at the threshold, my breath catching. The old Xavier would barge in, demand her attention, control the moment. I’m not him anymore. I knock softly, my knuckles grazing the doorframe. “Seraphina?”
Her head snaps up, her cornflower eyes wide, flashing with shock, then fury. The rag drops from her hand, landing with a soft thud. “What the are you doing here?” Her voice is sharp and unwelcoming, hanging in the air between us.
“I’d like to talk to you.” My words are quiet, stripped of the arrogance I once wore like armor. “Please.”
She crosses her arms, her jaw tight, her gaze a mixture of hurt and defiance. “There’s nothing you could say that I want to hear.” She turns back to the cart, dismissing me, but her shoulders tremble, betraying the wound I’ve carved into her.
I step closer, careful, my hands open, no threat, no demands. “I was wrong.” The words burn, a confession I’ve never made to anyone. “You were right, and I should’ve listened.” My voice cracks, and I hate how exposed I feel, how my chest aches with the weight of losing her. “You warned me about Lockhart. You tried to save my company, and I threw you away.”
Her fingers tighten on the cart, her knuckles white, but she doesn’t look at me. “You believed I’d betray you.” Each word is a shard of glass. “You looked at me like I was nothing.”
“You’re everything.” The truth spills out, desperate, unfiltered. “I don’t care about Blackwell, Lockhart, any of it. Nothing matters except losing you. I can’t sleep, can’t think, without seeing your face, hearing your voice. I’m hollow without you, Seraphina.” My throat tightens, and I swallow hard, fighting the burn behind my eyes. “I love you. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it, if you’ll let me.”
She freezes, her breath hitching, and for a moment, I think she’ll bolt. But she turns, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her lips parted. “You don’t get to say that.” Her voice cracks. “Not after what happened.”
“I know.” I pull my cellphone from my jacket and open the file I’d saved. “This isn’t a demand. It’s a choice.” My heart pounds, a frantic rhythm, as she stares at the device like it’s a livewire. “It’s a contract. A new real-estate investment division at Blackwell Enterprises. You’d be cofounder, equal partner, lead analyst. Full control. But if you want to walk away, I’ll respect that. I just want you to have what you deserve.”
Her gaze flicks to the screen, then back to me, searching, wary. “Why?” Her voice is barely audible, a thread of hope tangled with fear.
“Because you’re not my assistant. You’re my equal. My truth.” I step closer, my breath catching as her vanilla scent wraps around me, a saving grace and a torment. “And because I can’t live without you.” I pull out a letter, handwritten, my soul poured onto the page, and offer it to her. “This is for you. No strings. Just me, begging for a chance to make it right.”
Her fingers tremble as she takes the letter, her eyes scanning the words. I watch her face, every flicker of emotion—shock, pain, a spark of something softer—cutting me deeper than any boardroom loss. My empire, my pride, my life—they’re nothing without her. I’ve built kingdoms, but she’s the only one I want to rule with.
She looks up, her eyes glistening, her lips trembling. “You hurt me, Xavier.” Her voice is a devastated whisper, crushing my heart. “I gave you everything, and you turned your back on me when I needed your trust the most.”
“I know.” My voice breaks, and I drop to one knee, not caring how it looks, how vulnerable I am. “I’ll never forgive myself. But I’ll fight for you, Seraphina. For us. If you’ll have me.” My chest is a ruin, my heart hers to shatter or claim. “Please.”
The silence stretches like an eternity of darkness, and I wait, my entire life hanging on her next breath.
