I should have known.The universe doesn't warn you when it decides to test your resolve. It waits until you've convinced yourself you're untouchable — then smiles and throws you straight into memory.
That morning began like any other: coffee gone cold, sketches scattered across my desk, rain whispering against the glass. I had three deadlines, two phone calls, and one persistent headache that refused to leave. Nothing remarkable. Nothing threatening.
Until my assistant, Mia, burst into my office with a look that carried both excitement and doom.
"Selene, the presentation's been moved," she said, words tumbling. "They want it at the top floor — the executive suite in the Knight Tower."
I froze mid-reach for my coffee.Knight Tower.
The name struck like a stone to glass — small, clean, final. I looked up slowly, as if my body could pretend it hadn't heard.
"Whose tower?" I asked, even though I already knew. The question was a lie my voice told out of habit.
Mia blinked, oblivious. "Knight Enterprises. They're hosting the cross-brand summit today. Mr. Knight himself is rumored to attend. We'll have direct exposure to the board — isn't that incredible?"
Incredible.Yes. Like stepping onto a blade and admiring its shine.
I forced a smile. "Wonderful. Send me the schedule."
She left before I could change my mind, before I could say the word no.
When the door closed, I sank back into my chair.The rain outside had stopped, but it didn't matter. Inside me, it began again.
By noon, I was standing in front of the building I swore I'd never enter again.
Knight Tower — thirty-seven stories of ambition and arrogance, the kind of structure that looked like it could slice through clouds. The glass facade reflected the city back at itself, flawless and cruel.
His name was carved in gold above the revolving doors. KNIGHT ENTERPRISES.
Even from the sidewalk, I could feel the weight of it. The scent of polished marble and money drifted through the entrance every time someone walked in or out.
My pulse kept rhythm with my steps as I entered — a slow, traitorous drum.
I told myself this was business. A presentation. A coincidence.
But the air inside carried him.
It was subtle — his signature cologne woven into the space, that distinct blend of cedarwood and smoke. My skin remembered it before my mind could catch up.
I inhaled too sharply and regretted it instantly.
Don't think of him. Don't feel him. Just move.
The lobby was cathedral-like — high ceilings, cascading light, and silence expensive enough to make you whisper. People moved efficiently, all dark suits and purposeful strides.
I adjusted my portfolio against my chest and walked toward the elevators. The mirrored walls caught my reflection — polished, unreadable, untouchable.
I pressed the button for the top floor.When the doors slid open, the scent of steel and leather filled the space.
I stepped inside.The doors closed, sealing me in.
The elevator rose, smooth and relentless. With every floor, my stomach tightened. The soft hum of machinery felt too intimate — like a heartbeat not my own.
I caught my reflection again and almost didn't recognize the woman staring back.High collar. Red lipstick. Eyes too steady to be believed.
A survivor pretending to be unshaken.
When the elevator chimed, I exhaled — slow, deliberate.The doors parted to reveal a corridor of glass and gold, the city sprawling beneath my feet.
It was breathtaking. And suffocating.
The conference hall was already buzzing.Executives, designers, investors — faces I'd seen in magazines, all gathered under the glow of power. The air hummed with deals and deception.
I walked in with my head high, the way I'd learned to walk away — as if I'd never been broken.
Mia hurried up to me. "Perfect timing! You'll be presenting third. The Knight Group's liaison will introduce you."
"Good," I murmured, though the word tasted like iron.
I placed my materials on the table, careful, methodical — anything to keep my hands from trembling.
A faint echo of footsteps approached behind me. Deep, confident, familiar.My spine stiffened instinctively.
No. He couldn't be here yet.Not this early. Not when I still hadn't rebuilt the part of me that could look at him without shaking.
I turned slightly — just enough to catch the shadow passing outside the glass walls.Broad shoulders. Dark suit. That unmistakable stride that had once undone me.
My breath caught, the world narrowing to the sound of his name murmured somewhere nearby.
"Mr. Knight is reviewing the contract upstairs," someone whispered."Mr. Knight wants a full report by three.""Mr. Knight said—"
The repetition was too much. Each syllable another nail in the coffin of my calm.
I needed air. Now.
"Excuse me," I said quickly, gathering my things, not waiting for an answer.
I moved through the hallways like a ghost in high heels — silent, precise, desperate. My reflection followed me through every pane of glass, each one a reminder that I still looked like her, the woman he'd once touched, once ruined.
When I reached the end of the corridor, I found a service stairwell — narrow, dim, unguarded. Freedom.
My hand trembled on the handle.
Then I heard it — his voice.
It came from somewhere down the hall, muffled through the glass, but unmistakable.Low. Commanding. The kind of voice that didn't need to raise itself to be obeyed.
I froze, pulse ricocheting inside my ribs.
My name wasn't spoken, but it didn't need to be. The sound of him was enough to drag every buried emotion back to life.
For a second, I let myself remember — his breath at my ear, the way he'd said Selene like it was both a question and a claim.
Then I shut it down. Locked it.I wasn't her anymore.
I pushed through the stairwell door. The metal clanged softly, echoing like guilt.
The stairs spiraled downward, gray concrete and flickering light. My heels clicked too loudly. I slipped them off, holding them in one hand as I descended, breath shallow.
I didn't stop until I reached the second floor — a floor no one used, under renovation, silent except for the hum of distant machines.
My heart still hadn't slowed.
I leaned against the wall, forcing air into my lungs, my pulse against my wrist.Every nerve screamed to keep running — out of the building, out of the city, out of this orbit entirely.
But I had nowhere else to go.
The irony hit me then, cruel and clear.I'd built a new life only to find myself standing inside the same cage, the same name on the door.
Knight.
His empire was made of glass — transparent, endless — and somehow, even when I wasn't looking, I'd walked straight into it.
I slipped through a maintenance corridor and emerged back into the lobby.My plan was simple: leave before the meeting ended. Before fate realized I'd tried to cheat it.
But fate, it seems, has good eyesight.
Just as I reached the revolving doors, I heard it — my name again, spoken softly by someone behind me.Not by him. Not yet. But close.
"Miss Brooks?"
I turned, startled — one of the building's assistants jogged toward me, holding a folder."You forgot your copy of the presentation."
"Oh," I said, voice careful. "Thank you. Please give it to Mia. I have another engagement."
I smiled, too quickly, and turned away.
The glass doors revolved, spilling me into sunlight — blinding, warm, undeserved. I blinked hard, gripping my heels, my bag, my composure.
The city roared around me — horns, footsteps, wind — a chaos that felt like safety.
I walked fast, almost running, down the sidewalk. My pulse still hadn't let go. The sound of my breath mingled with the rhythm of the street, the sound of survival.
I didn't look back.
Not until instinct betrayed me.
Somewhere far above, inside those glass towers, Alexander Knight stood by his office window, reviewing the list of attendees from the day's summit.
His gaze skimmed down the page — and stopped.
Selene Brooks.Aurum Atelier.
For a moment, he thought it was an error. A coincidence. A ghost.
Then he saw her.
Through the tinted glass of his thirty-seventh-floor window, across the street — a woman in black, heels in hand, hair catching the sun like liquid gold. Moving fast, almost running.
He couldn't see her face. But he didn't need to.
Recognition hit him like gravity.
He set the papers down slowly, the air thickening around him.
"Sir?" his assistant asked quietly from the doorway. "Something wrong?"
He didn't answer. His eyes stayed locked on the figure below.
"Cancel the rest of my meetings," he said finally.His voice was quiet. Deadly certain.
He watched as she disappeared into the crowd —just another shadow swallowed by the city.
But Alexander Knight had never believed in ghosts.And the one walking away from him now had left behind something he could feel in his bones.
Something that was still his.
Even if she no longer wanted to be found.