CHAPTER ONE: THE HOTEL SHE SHOULD HAVE NEVER ENTERED
Aria Lawson should have turned around the moment she saw the building.
Crystal Heights.
The name alone was enough to freeze her feet to the pavement. It stood like a blade of glass cutting into the sky—sleek, tall, mercilessly beautiful. And painfully familiar.
Her breath hitched. For a moment she forgot how to inhale.
Three years.
Three long years since she had last seen that name, that building, that world.
Three years since she ran.
But she wasn't here by choice.
"Aria, you okay?" Melanie, her supervisor, nudged her gently. "You're staring like you just saw a ghost."
If only it were just a ghost.
Aria forced a smile. "Yeah. Sorry. Just overwhelmed. This place is… big."
"Big?" Melanie scoffed. "This hotel charges more per night than we make in a week. But today, it's our gold mine. We pull this event off, Harper Events gets six months of guaranteed bookings."
Aria nodded, gripping the strap of her decorating kit tighter. Bills. Rent. Preschool fees. She didn't have the luxury of fear anymore. She had responsibilities. A little boy, with big brown eyes and a smile that healed and shattered her in the same breath.
Eli.
Everything she did, she did for him.
Still, her heart pounded as she stepped inside the revolving doors. Crystal Heights' lobby shimmered with soft gold lighting and polished marble. Fresh orchids scented the air. Water trickled down an indoor fountain.
It looked exactly the same.
She swallowed hard. Don't think about him. Don't think about the past. You're just here to work, nothing else.
She followed her team toward the ballroom level, but every step made her chest tighten. Her memories clung to the walls like shadows.
This was where she met him.
This was where everything began.
And this was where everything ended.
She shook the thought away. She refused to break—not here, not now.
"Aria, take the floral arrangements," Melanie instructed. "They need to go to the executive ballroom on the 32nd floor. Use the private lift. It's faster."
The private lift.
Her stomach twisted. That elevator was restricted to upper management and VIP guests.
VIP guests like Damien Cole.
She closed her eyes. Focus. Work. Go in, drop the flowers, get out. No one will see you. No one will remember you. He certainly won't be here.
He was a billionaire CEO. He probably travelled more than he slept.
She was being paranoid. That was all.
"On it," she finally said, adjusting her grip on the bouquet crates.
The private elevator was empty—thank God. She stepped in and pressed 32.
The doors slid shut.
Her reflection stared back at her in the mirrored interior—dark curls tied in a low bun, soft makeup, simple jeans and a black work shirt. She looked composed.
But inside, she was trembling.
As the elevator rose, her mind slipped, uninvited, into the past.
Damien's hands.
His voice.
His lips on hers.
The night she gave herself to him completely, believing they were in love.
And the morning she left… discovering a truth that tore her apart.
She blinked fiercely. Not now. Not today.
The elevator chimed. Floor 32.
She stepped out—and froze.
The hallway was lined with security personnel and hotel staff. Something was happening. Something big.
A familiar tightness pulled in her chest. "Excuse me," she whispered to a passing worker. "Is there an event?"
"Oh, bigger than that," the woman said breathlessly. "Mr. Cole is hosting a private investor meeting today. Some foreign partners flew in."
Aria's heart stopped.