The glass building of Fairchild Enterprises loomed ahead as Damien's car pulled in front of the marble steps. It was a sunny day, not too hot, but bright enough to cause a subtle squint in his eyes. He stepped out, buttoned his blazer, and glanced around. Celeste was nowhere near.
Not that he was surprised.
She had left earlier with the rest of his team—saying it would look more professional. But Damien knew her better. It was partly that, and partly to avoid the little smirk that tugged at her lips whenever he looked at her after a night like the last one. Her teasing was endless, and she knew just how to push his buttons. Damn her.
He entered the glass doors, greeted with polished tiles and an overly enthusiastic receptionist. The scent of cologne, coffee, and something expensive hung in the air. It was clear Ethan Fairchild had inherited more than just a company—he had inherited style and presence.
The boardroom on the top floor had been opened up, replaced with lounge-style seating and mock-up designs of the new collaborative project. Damien walked in, his team already spread out, talking, laughing, and comparing notes. And in the middle of it all, radiant in a cream blouse tucked into a beige pencil skirt, stood Celeste.
Ethan was beside her.
The young CEO's gaze was locked onto her, almost blinding in its boldness. He was laughing at something she said, his hand too casually in his pocket, his eyes roaming her face and the curve of her neck with far too much interest.
Damien took a slow breath.
Celeste turned at that moment. Her eyes met his, and there it was—that mischievous glint, like she had known he was watching all along. She didn't stop talking, but her lips curved. Damien saw her posture change, hips angling, the kind of confidence that was less about professionalism and more about ownership.
And then Ethan spoke.
"Celeste, you're glowing today. Absolutely radiant," Ethan said, flashing his charming grin.
The room went quiet enough to catch the undertone.
Celeste tilted her head, eyes narrowing playfully. Then, in the most nonchalant tone, she said, "That's just how people glow when they're limping a little."
Dead. Silence.
A beat. Two.
Then some awkward coughs, and someone at the back chuckled nervously. Damien didn't laugh.
He smirked.
His smirk was slow and sinful, the kind that reached his eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek as Celeste gave him a wink like a silent mic drop. Ethan looked visibly taken aback for a second, not sure if he heard her right, before forcing another smile.
"Well," Ethan said, recovering, "That's certainly one way to describe…productivity."
Celeste just turned back to her tablet, humming softly.
Damien walked over to the designs displayed and addressed a few of his staff while throwing a lingering glance at her. She hadn't even blushed. In fact, she looked proud of herself.
As the tour of the office continued and they began to go through the property layouts, Damien found himself walking alongside her, their hands barely brushing. He leaned down slightly and murmured near her ear.
"Limping, huh?"
Celeste didn't even look up. "Accurate, isn't it?"
Damien chuckled, the low sound sending a pulse up her spine. "You're shameless."
"You love that about me."
She was right.
Ethan, meanwhile, had taken a backseat, watching with narrowed eyes. He wasn't stupid. That exchange had meant something. More than just teasing. There was history there—or at least, fire.
The group moved into another room where samples of interior fixtures were laid out. The walls were a cool grey, and the lighting was softer. Celeste kept moving with effortless grace, taking notes, asking questions. Damien admired how she switched her tone the moment it was about work.
But Ethan was watching. Again.
At one point, he asked her directly, "What do you think of the open-concept floor plan? Would someone like you prefer privacy or space to move around?"
Celeste raised an eyebrow. "I can make noise in either."
Damien choked. On nothing.
She didn't even glance at him this time.
As the team began discussing logistics, Ethan stood next to Damien and casually said, "She's a firecracker."
Damien gave him a short nod. "She's competent."
"Among other things."
Damien's jaw ticked.
Ethan continued, almost musing, "You know, when someone like that walks in, it's hard not to imagine what kind of energy they bring…everywhere."
Damien finally turned to look at him, his voice calm. "Careful."
Ethan just smiled. "Don't worry. I'm respectful. But I notice things. And that glow? It's not from skincare."
Damien's smirk was gone.
He didn't say anything. Because deep down, he knew that glow belonged to him. Celeste had made that abundantly clear. But Ethan was a reminder. A reminder that Celeste was young, desirable, and would always attract attention like moths to flame.
It wasn't jealousy. Not entirely. It was the realization that she didn't need him to be wanted. She was wanted, regardless.
After the day wrapped up, as everyone prepared to leave, Celeste walked past Damien slowly, leaning close enough to whisper, "Still think I should've stayed behind with you?"
He turned to her, whispering back, "You're dangerous when you're smug."
"Admit it," she said with a playful grin. "You loved every second."
He did.
Outside, as the cars pulled up and the team began saying their goodbyes, Ethan stood a few feet away, watching the two of them with something unreadable in his gaze. Damien met his stare directly, and this time, didn't look away.
Celeste didn't look back at Ethan. Not once.
As they got into their respective cars, Damien leaned back against the seat, hand on his thigh, replaying the day in his head. Her words. That glow. Her confidence.
And the way she had said it so boldly, right in front of everyone.
He didn't know if he should be concerned that he was smiling like an idiot.
But god, she was his.
And everyone knew it now.
Even Ethan.
The meeting room was filled with a mix of business chatter and quiet anticipation. Ethan leaned back in his chair, an amused glint in his eye as he caught Celeste's sharp reply echoing through the room. His gaze lingered on her longer than expected, curiosity and challenge blending in his expression.
"So," Ethan finally spoke, arching an eyebrow with a teasing smile, "what exactly did you mean by 'limping'?"
Celeste didn't look at him. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the glowing city skyline visible through the tall office windows, voice steady and dripping with playful defiance. "Satisfied. Sexually satisfied," she said clearly, her words hanging in the air like a bold declaration.
A ripple of suppressed laughter passed through the team, and Damien's smirk deepened. He watched Celeste with a mixture of pride and something softer, a quiet warmth rising in his chest. She was fearless in a way that made the sharp edges of the corporate world soften around her.
Ethan's eyes narrowed slightly, a flash of something unspoken passing between him and Celeste — a silent acknowledgment of boundaries and uncharted territory. He smiled again, this time more genuinely, as if accepting the challenge but knowing when to step back.
"Quite the fiery spirit," Ethan admitted, leaning forward. "That explains the glow. Not everyone can carry that kind of energy and still walk the walk in here."
Celeste turned her head just enough to shoot him a quick, teasing glance. "Only those who have someone who knows how to keep up," she said, her tone light but loaded with meaning.
Damien's heart skipped a beat, a mix of jealousy and desire flickering through him. Watching Celeste stand her ground, so unabashed and confident, made him realize how much he wanted to protect this spark — how much he needed her to keep it alive, fiercely and freely.
The meeting continued, but for Damien, the atmosphere had shifted. The casual glances, the playful words — it all underscored a tension that wasn't just about work. It was about claiming, about boundaries, and about a connection that burned far hotter than any boardroom strategy.
The bar was tucked away in a quieter district of the city, the kind of place that thrived on exclusivity and discretion. Warm amber lighting spilled from the vintage chandeliers, casting soft shadows over polished wood tables and plush leather booths. The low hum of jazz music blended with the occasional clink of glasses and murmur of conversations, creating an ambiance both relaxed and charged.
Ethan Fairchild, impeccably dressed in a tailored navy blazer, stood near the entrance, greeting his guests with a confident smile. Beside him, his father—an imposing man with a salt-and-pepper beard and sharp eyes—exuded the calm authority of a seasoned businessman. As a major shareholder in the bar, he was clearly comfortable in the space, his presence adding an extra layer of gravitas to the evening.
Damien arrived with Lucien and Celeste shortly after. Damien's usual composed demeanor was softened slightly by the flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he took in the setting. Lucien, ever the professional assistant, scanned the room with quiet attentiveness, while Celeste's gaze lingered on the elegant décor, a subtle smile playing on her lips.
Ethan stepped forward with a welcoming nod. "Glad you could make it. This is one of my dad's favorite spots—great for mixing business with a bit of downtime."
Damien nodded, shaking hands firmly with both men. "Pleasure to be here. And it's a beautiful place."
The elder Fairchild smiled warmly. "Thank you, Damien. I've heard good things about your work. It's always nice to meet the people who help move the company forward."
As the group settled into a cozy booth near the back, the bartender—a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard—approached, ready to take their orders.
"Whatever you recommend," Ethan said to the bartender, his tone casual but with an underlying confidence that suggested he was a regular.
The bartender smiled knowingly and began preparing a round of signature cocktails, each with a subtle kick of something unexpected—just like the bar itself.
Glasses filled and the first round was passed around. Ethan raised his glass with a grin. "To new projects and good company."
"To that," Damien replied, clinking his glass gently with Ethan's.
Celeste took a sip, savoring the blend of flavors. She caught Damien's eye and offered a small, teasing smile, which he returned with a quiet warmth.
The conversation flowed easily at first, centered on the upcoming project Ethan's team was spearheading. Ethan's enthusiasm was infectious, and even Damien found himself drawn in by the younger man's vision and drive.
Lucien chimed in occasionally, offering sharp insights that earned appreciative nods from Ethan's father. The three men found common ground quickly, their dialogue a dance of mutual respect and ambition.
Meanwhile, Celeste listened attentively, interjecting with thoughtful questions and comments that showcased her own understanding of the business. Ethan's gaze often flicked toward her, a mix of admiration and something more subtle flickering in his eyes.
As the evening deepened, the mood shifted. The casual formality gave way to a more relaxed intimacy. The group shared stories beyond work—tales of early career struggles, unexpected successes, and personal ambitions. Laughter came easier now, the initial stiffness melting away.
Ethan's father, surprisingly jovial, recounted anecdotes from his own days navigating the corporate world, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. Damien found himself appreciating the elder man's candor and wit, a welcome contrast to the often sterile boardroom environment.
At one point, Ethan raised his glass again, this time with a sly smile. "Here's to making things interesting."
Celeste caught the double meaning instantly but chose to meet his smile with one of her own, equally charged.
Damien noticed the exchange, a flicker of unease stirring within him, though he masked it well. He wasn't about to let anything unsettle the balance of the night—not when Celeste was here, glowing softly in the dim light, clearly in her element.
As the drinks continued to flow, the conversation grew more personal. Ethan asked Celeste about her interests outside of work, probing gently but with evident curiosity. She responded with playful candor, hinting at a spirited personality beneath her professional exterior.
Damien found himself quietly observing, noting the subtle dance of glances and smiles between Celeste and Ethan. There was a tension there, undeniable yet unspoken, a silent challenge wrapped in friendly banter.
At one point, Lucien leaned toward Damien, his voice low and steady. "Ethan's good at pushing boundaries. Just something to keep in mind."
Damien nodded, appreciating the warning without making a scene.
The night wound down with a sense of camaraderie tempered by the unspoken stakes lingering beneath the surface. As the group prepared to leave, Ethan clapped Damien on the shoulder. "Looking forward to working more closely. And Celeste—don't hesitate to join us next time. It's more fun when you're around."
Celeste smiled, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and confidence. "I'll keep that in mind."
Outside, the cool night air greeted them as they stepped away from the warm glow of the bar. Damien glanced at Celeste, catching her subtle smirk. Whatever games were unfolding tonight, one thing was clear—this was only the beginning.