98 Chapter 101
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Chapter 101 – The CEO’s Unexpected Embrace a
As the SUV pulled away from the alumni dinner, I felt both liberated and exhausted. The confrontation with Julian had drained me more than I cared to admit.
“Well, that was quite the dramatic exit,” Clara said, breaking the silence. “I haven’t seen Julian look that terrified since you caught him with Ivy at your bridal shower.”
I winced at the memory. “I didn’t plan to make a scene.”
“He deserved worse,” Clara replied, checking her phone. “Looks like Bianca is already doing damage control on social media. Several posts about ‘misunderstandings between old friends.“”
Damien, sitting beside me, remained quiet, his expression contemplative. The privacy partition was up, giving us a sense of seclusion from the driver.
“What exactly did you mean about Julian’s sister going to jail?” he finally asked, his
voice low.
I sighed, staring out at the passing streetlights. “Ivy forged documents to secure a business loan last year. I have proof–emails she accidentally sent to my old work account thinking it was still Julian’s.”
Clara whistled. “That’s some serious leverage.”
“I never wanted to use it,” I admitted. “But Julian pushed me tonight, and I just…
snapped.”
Damien’s gaze was steady on my profile. “Do you think he’ll actually appeal the divorce
decree?”
“No,” I said with certainty. “He knows I wasn’t bluffing.”
The car slowed as we approached Clara’s hotel. When we stopped, she gathered her purse and squeezed my hand.
“Call me tomorrow, okay? And don’t let Julian get to you. You’re finally free of him.”
After Clara exited, the car pulled back into traffic. Alone with Damien now, I felt a
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strange mix of comfort and tension. His presence had a way of filling any space he occupied–even the spacious back seat of his luxury SUV felt smaller somehow.
“Did you receive the finalized divorce papers?” he asked after a moment.
I nodded. “This morning, actually. After six years together and barely eight months of marriage, it all ended with a few signatures.”
“No regrets?” His question was gentle, not probing.
“None,” I said firmly. “Julian made his choice when he chose Ivy over me. Everything since then has just been… aftermath.”
My phone rang, Victoria’s name flashing on the screen. I answered, putting it on speaker.
“Hazel! Are you okay? I just heard from Daniel who was at the dinner. He said Julian
made a scene?”
I smiled despite myself. Victoria’s network of informants never ceased to amaze me.
“I’m fine. Julian threatened to appeal our divorce, I threatened to expose his sister, and everyone got a dinner show they didn’t pay for.”
Victoria snorted. “That man is pathetic. First he begs you to take him back, then he threatens legal action? What’s next, a skywriter spelling ‘Please forgive me‘ over your
apartment?”
“Don’t give him ideas,” I groaned. “He’s already sent flowers to my office twice this
week.”
“Want me to have them delivered to his office instead? With a nice note about where
he can stick them?” Victoria suggested cheerfully.
Damien’s lips twitched in what might have been amusement.
“Tempting, but unnecessary. I think tonight made my position clear.” I glanced at Damien, who was now looking out his window, giving me the illusion of privacy. “I’ll call you tomorrow with details, okay? I’m in the car with someone.”
“Ooh, the mysterious Mr. Sterling?” Victoria’s voice turned teasing. “Fine, keep your secrets. But I want every detail tomorrow.”
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After hanging up, I turned to Damien. “Sorry about that.”
“No apology needed. Victoria seems like a good friend.”
“The best,” I agreed. “She wanted to hire a mariachi band to play at Julian and Ivy’s wedding. Something about ‘The Cheater’s Waltz.”
That earned an actual smile from Damien, transforming his usually serious features. The sight made my heart do an unexpected flip.
As we drove through downtown, Damien suddenly pressed a hand to his temple, his brow furrowing.
“Are you alright?” I asked, noticing how he’d paled slightly.
“Just a bit dizzy,” he murmured, closing his eyes briefly.
Concern replaced any lingering awkwardness. “Have you eaten today?”
His silence was answer enough.
“Damien Sterling,” I scolded, “it’s nearly midnight. When was your last meal?”
He checked his watch as if genuinely trying to remember. “I had coffee around noon.”
“Coffee isn’t food!” I exclaimed, genuinely appalled. “No wonder you’re dizzy. We should stop somewhere-‘
“1
“It’s fine,” he interrupted. “I’ve been busier than usual with the merger in Singapore.”
I studied his face more carefully, noticing the subtle shadows under his eyes. Despite his immaculate appearance, there were signs of fatigue I hadn’t spotted before.
“You work too hard,” I said softly. “Even CEOS need to eat and sleep.”
Something flickered in his eyes–surprise, perhaps, at my concern. “Most people are too intimidated to scold me,” he said, his voice holding a note of amusement.
“Well, I’m not most people,” I replied, then immediately felt self–conscious. “I mean-”
“No, you certainly aren’t,” he agreed, his gaze warming in a way that made my cheeks flush.
”
The car turned onto my street, slowing as we approached my building. I gathered my purse, preparing to say goodnight, when Damien suddenly swayed slightly in his seat.
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“Damien?” Alarm shot through me as I reached for him instinctively.
His hand found mine, his grip firm despite his apparent dizziness. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice rougher than before. “Just need a moment.”
I squeezed his hand. “Maybe you should go to the hospital-”
“No hospitals,” he said immediately. “I just need rest.”
The car stopped in front of my building, but neither of us moved to exit. I bit my lip, worried about sending him home in this condition.
“Come up for a few minutes,” I found myself saying. “I can make you something to eat, and you can rest before heading home.”
He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he leaned forward and spoke to his driver through the intercom.
“Wait here, Arthur. I’ll be down shortly.”
My doorman nodded respectfully as we entered the lobby. In the elevator, I noticed Damien leaning subtly against the wall, though he maintained his composed demeanor. The contrast between his powerful presence earlier at the dinner and his current vulnerability stirred something protective in me.
Inside my apartment, I gestured toward the couch. “Sit. I’ll make you a sandwich or
something.”
To my surprise, he followed my instruction without protest, sinking onto my sofa with a barely audible sigh. I hurried to the kitchen, quickly assembling a sandwich and pouring a glass of water.
When I returned, Damien had removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie. The sight of him looking slightly disheveled in my living room was strangely intimate,
“Here,” I said, placing the plate and glass on the coffee table. “Nothing fancy, but it’s food.”
“Thank you.” His voice was quiet as he took the sandwich. “This is very kind of you.“
I sat beside him, watching as he ate with the same precise elegance he seemed to apply to everything. Even exhausted, there was something regal about him.
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“Better?” I asked when he’d finished.
He nodded, setting the empty plate aside. “Much. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
“It’s not an inconvenience to help someone who needs it,” I replied honestly. “Especially someone who’s helped me repeatedly.”
His eyes met mine, something deep and unspoken passing between us. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, charged with an energy I wasn’t sure how to interpret.
“I should go,” he said, though he made no move to stand.
“You still look pale,” I observed. “Maybe rest a few more minutes.”
He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, the usual shield of perfect control seemed thinner somehow.
“Tired,” he murmured, his voice lower than I’d ever heard it. “Let me lean for a while…”
Before I could respond, he shifted closer and drew me gently into his arms. I froze, shocked by the unexpected embrace. His cheek rested against the top of my head, his arms strong but not confining around me.
“Damien?” My voice came out embarrassingly breathless.
“Just a moment,” he whispered against my hair. “Please.”
I should have pulled away. This was crossing a line we hadn’t acknowledged, blurring boundaries between business and something far more personal. Yet I found myself melting into his warmth, my initial resistance fading like morning mist.
His breathing gradually slowed, becoming deeper and more rhythmic against me. The tension in his shoulders eased, and I realized with a start that he was actually falling asleep. Damien Sterling–powerful, controlled, intimidating Damien Sterling–was surrendering to exhaustion with his arms around me.
I remained perfectly still, afraid to disturb him. The weight of his head against mine, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the subtle scent of his cologne–all of it felt surreal yet strangely right.
My mind raced with questions. Was this calculated or genuine vulnerability? Had he planned this moment or simply succumbed to exhaustion? And why did it feel so natural to be held by him?
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As the minutes passed, my own heartbeat slowed to match his rhythm. There was something profoundly intimate about this moment–more intimate, somehow, than if he’d kissed me. He had dropped his carefully maintained facade and allowed me to see him truly vulnerable.
I found myself studying his face in repose–the dark sweep of his lashes against his cheeks, the softness that sleep brought to his usually commanding features. Without the intensity of his gaze, he looked younger, almost boyish.
My phone vibrated in my purse across the room, but I made no move to answer it. Whatever it was could wait. For now, I would allow myself this stolen moment, this unexpected embrace from a man who had stormed into my life and turned everything upside down.
As I sat there, cradled against Damien’s chest, one thought surfaced through my confusion: I was in serious danger of falling for him. And that terrified me more than
Julian’s threats ever could.
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