The next morning, Jade wasn't exactly in the best mood. The disaster of yesterday's interview had drained every last drop of her positive energy. She groaned into her pillow, pulling the covers over her head.
"The only good thing about yesterday was meeting that hot CEO," she muttered to herself.
She sat up, eyes still half closed, and replayed the memory in her mind the way his amber eyes had stared into hers, how her lips had actually brushed his cheek. She blinked fast.
"Did I seriously kiss him? What kind of bold spirit possessed me?"
Then she scoffed, tossing her legs off the bed.
"Well... it's not like I'm in love or anything," she added quickly. "He's just... ridiculously good-looking. Like one of those actors or models you see in magazines."
Still slightly embarrassed but shaking it off, Jade stood up and walked into the bathroom to start her daily routine. Time to put that mess behind her kind of.
By the time she finished brushing her teeth and washing her face, her energy was slowly creeping back.
She tied her curly black hair into a loose ponytail, threw on a simple T-shirt and jeans, and headed to the kitchen. Her mom had already left for work, leaving a note on the table:
*"Don't forget to eat. And stop overthinking. Everything will work out. Mom "*
Jade smiled faintly. Her mom always knew how to read her mood even when she wasn't around.
She grabbed some toast and sat at the small kitchen table, chewing slowly, her thoughts drifting back to him again.
"Daniel Ooman..."
The name rolled off her tongue without her even realizing it. She stared blankly ahead, eyebrows furrowing.
"What kind of man leaves a party exactly before midnight every single time?" she murmured. "And what kind of billionaire helps pick up someone else's documents?"
It didn't make sense. None of it did.
Jade shook her head and stood. "Nope. Not going there again. Focus, girl. He's a billionaire. You're... you."
Still, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever see
.
.
.
The sun filtered gently through the tall windows of his penthouse, casting golden lines across the sleek wooden floor. Daniel stood still in front of the mirror, shirt unbuttoned, amber eyes locked on his reflection but his mind was far elsewhere.
His fingers hovered over a handwritten page on his nightstand. Neatly written in his own handwriting, with the date at the top. As usual. But this time… this time he remembered writing it.
He slowly close his book like a diary and slid it into the drawer, locking it.
"Something's different," he muttered under his breath.
His phone buzzed. A message from one of his assistants: *"Meeting rescheduled to 10AM. Butterfly Agency follow-up."*
He frowned. *Butterfly Agency… .*
His thoughts wandered not to the agency, but to her. That girl with the sharp tongue and the bold eyes. The one who dared to kiss him on the cheek like it meant nothing… and everything.
Daniel ran a hand through his dark red hair and smirked faintly.
"Jade Lee," he said aloud, letting the name linger in the air.
.
.
*POV Daniel – The Butterfly Agency*
When Daniel Ooman walked into The Butterfly Agency, time seemed to slow.
The receptionist nearly dropped her coffee. Two assistants froze mid-step. A group of interns gasped softly near the glass conference room.
"Is that… Daniel Ooman?"
"He's even more gorgeous in real life."
"My God, those eyes… he looks like he stepped out of a drama."
Tall, elegant, and devastatingly handsome in a tailored charcoal suit, Daniel exuded quiet authority. His amber eyes, calm yet piercing, scanned the space like he owned it. Women stared. Some swooned. Others pretended not to look, but failed miserably.
He barely noticed.
His expression was unreadable, all sharp jawlines and effortless grace as he made his way to the elevator. Only one thing clouded his perfect image: tension in his eyes, a storm behind the calm.
He didn't want to be here.
But he needed the best for his charity gala against famine, an event scheduled in just one week. And unfortunately, the best meant her.
Camilla Baldwin.
His ex.
He adjusted his cufflinks and stepped into the elevator. The staff whispered behind him.
"She used to date him?"
"How could she let that go?"
Daniel sighed inwardly.
He didn't want drama. He wanted results. Camilla might be difficult, but she was brilliant when it came to luxury events.
Still, as the elevator doors closed.
.
.
.
Camilla Baldwin tapped her manicured nails against her phone screen, pretending to read a file, though her mind was miles away.
He was coming.
*Daniel.*
Just hearing his name still made her chest tighten.
Six months. Their relationship had lasted six months. Just long enough to leave a mark too short to make it mean something deeper.
From the very beginning, he had warned her:
*"I'm not a simple man, Camilla. There are rules with me. If you can't follow them, we don't start anything."*
But she had fallen anyway. Hard. Blindly. Like many others before her, maybe. But she truly believed she could handle it.
No dinners past 10 p.m.
No spending the night at his place.
No calls after midnight.
And worst of all he vanished. Always before midnight . Like a shadow slipping away.
At first, she convinced herself it was just his mysterious charm.
But over time, the rumors started clawing at her sanity.
"He's hiding something."
"He made a deal with the devil."
"He turns into a beast after midnight."
She couldn't stay over. She couldn't even ask him simple questions like, "Where were you last night?"
And each time she tried, he'd say only one thing:
"You agreed to the terms, Camilla."
But how could love survive on terms?
Also eventually, the silence became heavier than the rumors. His secrets built a wall between them, and she couldn't climb it anymore.
She left.
Not because she stopped loving him, but because she was tired of begging for pieces of a man who refused to be whole with her.
And yet... even now, even today, her heart still reacted to the thought of him. She hated that.
Camilla stood and fixed her lipstick in the mirror, her voice soft as she whispered to her reflection:
*"You said I couldn't handle you, Daniel... but the truth is, you never gave me a chance to try."*
As he enter the air shifted the moment he walked in.
Daniel Ooman. In a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, his amber eyes sharp as ever, posture commanding, presence undeniable.
Camilla was already standing at the end of the conference table, her hands folded in front of her. Composed. Stunning. But behind her perfect posture, her heart thudded like a war drum.
He didn't flinch when he saw her. No hesitation. Just that calm, unreadable gaze that used to drive her mad.
"Mr. Ooman," she greeted, her voice cool, professional.
"Miss Baldwin,"he replied with a nod, his tone matching hers.
A long pause.
Camilla gestured to the chair across from her. "Shall we begin?"
He sat, sliding a leather folder across the table. "I need your team to handle the gala for the Anti-Hunger Alliance. One week from now. Budget: unlimited. Location: your choice. Guest list: curated but discreet."
She opened the folder, scanning the details. "Short notice. But not impossible."
Daniel leaned back, fingers steepled. "That's why I came to you. You're the best at what you do."
A flicker of pride stirred in her. And pain. Because he always knew how to say the right thing.
She closed the folder softly. "Why me, Daniel? Why not one of your usual people?"
His amber eyes locked onto hers, steady and unreadable. "Because you're the only one who can execute this with elegance."
She stood up. "Don't worry. I'll make sure it's flawless."
Daniel rose too, towering slightly over her. "I never doubted that."
Their eyes met for a lingering second, and for the first time, something cracked in his guarded expression. A flicker of something real.
But then, like always, he turned and walked away.
.
.
.
Days passed, and only one day remained before Daniel's famine relief gala.
At 8 PM, Daniel was at home, seemingly distracted his mind far from the event scheduled for the next day.
He held the same notebook he always wrote in before bed. Something was wrong.
His bodyguard, Luccianho, who spoke Portuguese and was more like his right hand than just security, called out to him,
"Chefe, o que está te preocupando?"
Daniel sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "Something's wrong, Luccianho. Something changed again."
Luccianho, ever calm, looked at him with knowing eyes. He was more than a bodyguard , he knew Daniel's secret.
"What happened after the gala?"
Daniel continued quietly. "For a moment, the curse... it disappeared. But in the last few days, it's come back."
Luccianho nodded thoughtfully. "What's different now? Compared to the day after the gala, and the days before that?"
Daniel opened his diary the same one he wrote in every night reading over his own words. Then he suddenly stopped, staring at a name.
"Jade Lee... that Jade Lee. I had contact with her. Do you remember the kiss?"
Luccianho's expression didn't change, but Daniel could almost feel the weight behind his silence.