August woke before the sun rose. He lay there for a while in silence, staring at the dark ceiling, listening to Eloise's steady breathing beside him. Her scent still lingered in the sheets, wrapped around him like a memory that refused to fade. It should have been just another night. But it wasn't. His skin still burned with the memory of her. Her touch. Her eyes. The way her body had fit perfectly against his. It all stayed with him, etched into his mind like an invisible tattoo. But trusting again? That would be stupidity. And above all else, August Montgomery was not a stupid man. He got up quietly. Grabbed his keys, dressed quickly, and paused for one last long look at her before leaving. The image of Eloise asleep in his bed, wearing his shirt, lodged in his chest like a thorn. He drove for hours with no clear destination. Eventually the buildings faded in his rearview mirror, replaced by empty roads and, finally, the first signs of the coast. That was where

He slowly set the pen down and lifted his eyes. His gaze was ice. "There's nothing to discuss, Miss Beaumont." She blinked, the formal name slicing through her like a blade. "It was… nothing to you?" "It shouldn't have been anything to you either," he replied flatly, without hesitation. "Don't fool yourself. It was just one night. A mistake. One that will not happen again." Her heart sank. Still, she tried. "And my job? How am I supposed to deal with this here?" He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, his jaw tight, his tone impassive. "You will remain in your position. I don't hire based on personal involvement, much less beauty. I hire based on competence. Just do your job." Then his voice turned even colder. "We'll keep things professional. Conversations only about work. What happened should be forgotten. And it will not happen again." She swallowed the pain. "And if… if we can't separate things?" August stared at her for several long seconds.

August finally turned his head and looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "Eloise…" She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "I just thought you should know. Since you seem a little confused." He took a step toward her, but before he could say anything, a knock on the door made them both freeze. "I didn't see anything… but I could feel the drama from the hallway!" James Adams's teasing voice came through the door before it even opened. August closed his eyes briefly, clearly asking the corporate gods for patience. James walked in with a mischievous grin, his eyes lighting up with amusement when he saw them. "Did I interrupt Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet?" he asked, giving an exaggerated bow. Despite the tension, Eloise couldn't hold back a laugh. "Mr. Darcy might be a little generous for August, don't you think?" "I was going to say Mr. Trouble, but Darcy does sound more romantic," James replied, winking at her. August crossed his arms. "James, do you want someth

On the other side of the city, Eloise was sprawled across the living room couch, a tub of ice cream in her lap and a blanket wrapped around her waist. The TV murmured quietly in the background, pretending to be a distraction, but her mind was stuck on repeat. "Let's keep things professional." "What happened should be forgotten." She huffed, stabbing the ice cream with her spoon as if it were his face. "Coward," she muttered. The memory of his hand on her waist. His body pressed against hers. The heavy silence afterward. That confused, heated look in his eyes. Why did that make her even more unsettled? Why did she want it to happen again… even knowing the risk? Her phone vibrated. She picked it up lazily, expecting some random notification, but froze when she saw the name on the screen. A. Montgomery Her heart sped up. She took a breath before opening the message. August: I just checked the numbers in the second spreadsheet. The conversion margin from the last qu

Eloise left the office with the same professional composure as always. She sat at her desk, resumed her work, reviewed the schedule, and answered a few emails while the clock slowly moved forward. At exactly nine, August stepped out of his office with his usual commanding presence. His steps were firm, his expression unreadable. He passed her desk, glanced at her, and said a single word. "Let's go." He didn't stop walking, as if it were just another instruction in the middle of the day. She grabbed her bag, her tablet, a small notepad, and her water bottle, rising quickly to follow him. They went down to the garage where the driver was already waiting. The door was opened, and they both got in without exchanging a single word. The car moved smoothly through the city, the quiet hum of the radio filling the silence. Soon the car passed through an ornate iron gate and continued along a tree-lined driveway. In the distance, the imposing façade of the club appeared. A modern bui