Chapter 60

Mai pov

He exhaled. “Mai, this doesn’t have anything to do with—”

“Oh, it doesn’t?” I said, laughing with disbelief. “That’s interesting. Because the last time I checked, you were parading around with that silicone Barbie like she was your forever after.”

He sighed, the kind of sigh that wasn’t tired—it was guilty. I knew that sound. I’d heard it too many times when I caught him lying by omission.

“You’re deflecting,” I said sharply. “Why?”

“Because she’s not in the picture anymore,” he said, suddenly serious. “She doesn’t live with me. She hasn’t for over a month.”

I blinked, stunned for a second.

“What?” I said slowly. “You broke up?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, the pieces clicking in my head. “You two broke up. And now suddenly you’re interested in working with me?”

“I’ve been interested in working with you since the deal was proposed,” he replied firmly. “Don’t twist it.”

“Oh honey, I’m not twisting a damn thing. I’m just connecting dots. The timeline’s too neat. You ditch Barbie, and then boom—you want me back on your boardroom dance card?”

“It’s not like that,” he said, his tone edging toward frustration.

“Then what’s it like, Ian?” I challenged. “Because to me, it sounds like you’re using a business proposal to wedge yourself back into my life.”

“That’s not true,” he said, quieter now. “Mai, I’m not with Mona. I haven’t been for weeks. And yeah, maybe part of me wanted this deal because it meant I’d get to see you again. I’m not going to pretend I didn’t think about that.”

I went silent.

It wasn’t the confession itself—it was the way he said it. Like he was standing in front of me, completely unguarded. The Ian I remembered was always strategic, always careful with his words. This felt… real. And dangerous.

“Why did you break up with her?” I asked, softer now.

“She wasn’t you.”

I froze.

“Oh, come on,” I said, scoffing. “Really? That line?”

“It’s not a line,” he said. “It’s the truth. You and I had something… electric. Fire and storm. Mona was safe. Predictable. A distraction.”

“Wow,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “Does she know that? That she was just your emotional Tylenol while you nursed a hangover from me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to,” I snapped. “And let’s be clear—I’m not some prize at the end of your redemption arc.”

“I never said you were.”

“Good. Because this deal—this opportunity—is business. Nothing more.”

“Fine,” he said. “Then let’s focus on the deal.”

I hated how calm his voice was. Like he knew I was unraveling on the other end of the line.

“Where do you want to meet?” he asked, smoothly pivoting. “We should go over everything in person. Contracts, projections, timelines.”

“Neutral ground,” I said immediately. “Public. I don’t trust you not to turn it into some soap-opera scene.”

“You think I’d do that?”

“I know you would,” I said. “Somehow, every time we’re in the same room, you try to blur the line between business and whatever the hell we used to be.”

He chuckled. “Alright, neutral ground. Name it.”

I tapped my nails against the leather of my steering wheel, thinking. Somewhere stylish, somewhere where I had the upper hand.

“The Sky Lounge,” I said. “That rooftop spot on 5th. Thursday night. 7 p.m. Don’t be late.”

“Of course,” he said. “Do I get to buy you a drink?”

“No,” I said sweetly. “You get to buy yourself one and sit across from me while I take control of this deal.”

There was that pause again—like he was trying not to say something stupid.

“Looking forward to it,” he said at last.

“I’m sure you are.”

I hung up before he could say anything else.

Then I sat there for a long moment, breathing slowly, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. My heart was pounding like I’d run a marathon. My hands were tingling.

This was not supposed to be personal.

And yet—it was.

Because Ian wasn’t just some ex. He was the man who shattered me and still had the nerve to look at me like I was the only person in the room. The man who kissed me like a promise and left like a ghost.

I hated him for that.

I hated that he still had pull.

I turned my engine back on and pulled out of the parking lot. I had three days to prepare for that meeting. Three days to lock in the presentation, review the deal points, and get my walls up so high that even Ian couldn’t scale them.

But as I drove, one question kept echoing in my head, louder than all the others.

If Mona is gone… and I’m sitting across from him again… what happens if I feel something?

I didn’t want to know the answer.

But I knew the fire wasn’t out.

Not even close.

\---

Thursday Night – Sky Lounge

The Sky Lounge glittered under the city lights, all glass and steel and sultry jazz. I walked in like I owned the place—because tonight, I needed to.

I spotted him instantly.

Dark tailored suit. No tie. That signature smirk tucked at the edge of his mouth as he stood when I approached the table.

“Mai,” he said, like it was a prayer and a curse in one breath.

I slid into the chair opposite him. “Let’s get this over with.”

But as the waiter brought over drinks and the city skyline spread out behind us, I had the distinct and dangerous feeling…

This was just

Ian reached across the table, fingers brushing against mine. I snatched my hand back like he'd burned me.

"Don’t," I warned, eyes narrowed.

He leaned in, voice low. "You still feel it too. Don’t lie."

I laughed, sharp and cold. "Feelings don’t rewrite history."

"You still love me."

"You’re delusional."

His smirk vanished. “Then why are you shaking?”

I stood abruptly. “This meeting’s over.”

He grabbed my wrist. “Mai, wait—”

I froze.

Behind him, Mona walked in.