Chapter 60

DAMIAN POV

I barely remember the drive home.

There’s a buzzing in my chest, a tight, electric burn that doesn’t know whether to erupt into laughter or collapse into a raw, trembling breath. Kayna said yes. She actually—after everything, after the chaos and the leak and my mother’s meddling, after my own stupidity-driven spiral—looked me in the eyes tonight and said:

Yes.

I sit in my car for what feels like a century after I park, hands still resting on the wheel. My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it pulse in my fingertips. Relief floods through me, messy and powerful, and so unexpected that it almost hurts.

Because relief doesn’t come without its shadow.

And the shadow is that Kayna’s “yes” came with a tremor in her voice. A hesitation. A softness that wasn’t surrender but careful acceptance.

A yes from someone stepping onto thin ice, knowing it could break.

I run a hand down my face, dragging a long exhale from deep in my stomach. She agreed. That’s what matters. That’s what keeps Cosmo from collapse. That’s what gives me a fighting chance against Ixora, my mother, the press, the shareholders, the vultures circling with sharpened teeth.

But the truth beneath it—the part I swallow because it’s inconvenient, because it complicates everything—is that her yes means something to me in ways it shouldn’t.

Something too close to—

No. I cut the thought off violently.

Not tonight.

Tonight I need to breathe.

I step out of the car, tension unwinding just a fraction as the night breeze hits my face. The city is quieter at this hour. The kind of quiet that lets you hear your own thoughts too loudly.

I unlock the door to my penthouse and the familiar scent greets me—clean, understated, a whisper of cedar and amber from the diffuser I never remember to refill because the house staff always beats me to it. Usually the sharp tidiness of my place calms me.

Tonight, it feels like pressure. Like everything here echoes with expectation.

I loosen my tie, drop it on the counter, and lean both palms onto the marble island.

Kayna said yes.

I allow myself one moment—just one—to close my eyes and replay the look on her face across the table tonight. The flicker of resolve. The way her throat bobbed when she swallowed, like she was fighting herself, and losing. The way her fingers nervously circled the rim of her glass.

She didn’t agree lightly.

And she didn’t agree for me.

She agreed for the company. For her mother. For survival.

The weight of that realization digs hard into my chest. But before I can start picking apart all the implications, my phone vibrates.

Julian. Perfect. Exactly the person I need right now.

I answer immediately. “She agreed.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Julian lets out a low whistle. “Well damn. Congratulations, boss. I thought you’d be sulking in a whiskey bottle tonight.”

“I wasn’t far from it,” I mutter. “But she said yes. Gave her terms.”

“Hit me,” Julian says, tone sobering slightly.

“She wants her mother moved to a better hospital. Full care package. Covered by me.”

“Done,” Julian says without hesitation. “That’s not even a term. That’s basic decency.”

I swallow. “She also wants us living in separate places.”

Julian quiets. Too quiet. That’s never good.

“…Julian?” I push.

He sighs, long and weighted. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly.”

“I know,” I grit out. “But she’s not wrong. She doesn’t want her personal life scrutinized. She’s trying to protect what little stability she has left.”

“And I get that,” he says, voice firm. “But the press won’t. The board won’t. The public definitely won’t. If you two get married and live in separate houses, it’ll be headline gold. They’ll call it a PR marriage before you even get to exchange rings.”

My jaw tightens. I knew this, but hearing Julian say it confirms the reality: Kayna’s biggest term is also the most impossible.

“I don’t want to force her,” I say quietly.

“And you’re not going to.” Julian’s voice softens in the way only he can manage—rare, careful reassurance. “I’ll talk to her. She listens to me more than she listens to you right now, anyway.”

I grunt. “Thanks.”

“Relax,” he continues. “She said yes, D. That’s the hard part. Everything else can be negotiated.”

I sink onto the barstool, tension spooling down my spine like a tightened rope finally loosening. “That’s not all. There’s something you should know.”

Julian hums. “I’m listening.”

“The Cosmo accounts. You told me someone was siphoning funds.”

He straightens instantly—audibly. “Yeah. I found more.”

My entire posture stiffens. “Meaning?”

“Meaning,” Julian says slowly, “this isn’t a one-off theft or a lucky loophole someone stumbled into. It’s systematic. Calculated. Organized. Someone’s been draining small percentages from multiple accounts—tiny enough to avoid detection, but large enough that if you add them up over time, we’re talking about tens of millions.”

A cold shock slams into my veins.

Millions?

“Who?” I ask, voice low, dangerous.

“That’s the thing,” Julian replies. “Whoever did this covered their tracks almost perfectly. Almost. I found three anomalies. All pointing to someone with executive-level access.”

My stomach drops. “Which executive?”

Another pause.

“Alex.”

The name lands like a grenade.

My brother. My blood. The person who has stood beside me through every corporate war, every family disaster, every sleepless night building Cosmo into what it is now.

“That’s not possible,” I snap. “Alex wouldn’t—he knows what this company means to us.”

“People change,” Julian says quietly. “Pressure changes people even more.”

My head spins.

No. Not Alex.

He wouldn’t risk the company. He wouldn’t risk me.

He—

A dark, ugly realization curls up from the pit of my stomach.

Unless someone made him.

“Keep digging,” I say, voice steady even as my insides shred. “Find proof. Find patterns. Don’t confront him yet.”

“Of course,” Julian answers. His loyalty is the one thing I don’t question. “But Damian… you need to be prepared. If Alex is involved—”

“Stop.” My voice is sharper than intended. “Just find out the truth.”

There’s a beat, then Julian exhales slowly. “Alright. I’ll keep you updated. And tomorrow morning, I’ll talk to Kayna about the living arrangements. You focus on keeping the company together.”

He hangs up.

The silence that follows is suffocating.

I stand and head to the window, staring out at the Manhattan skyline. The city glitters like a constellation of artificial stars, but all I can feel is the weight of the cracks forming under everything I’ve built.

Kayna said yes. That should’ve been the one bright thing in my day.

Instead, it feels like a thin umbrella in a hurricane.

My phone buzzes again.

Mother.

Of course.

I stare at the caller ID for three solid seconds before answering. “Mother.”

“Darling,” she coos, already sounding impatient. “I heard you’ve been under stress. Why didn’t you call me?”

Because calling her usually makes things worse.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s been a long week.”

“Well,” she says lightly, “I can make it easier. I’ve spoken with the Vestri family already. Ixora would make a lovely bride. She’s attended events with you for years. She’s familiar. Acceptable. And, importantly, she has the right upbringing—”

“Mother.”

“In fact, I think—”

“Mother.” My voice slices cleanly this time. “I’m not marrying Ixora.”

A heavy silence. Then a chilly inhale.

“Who, then?”

“Someone else.”

“Someone suitable, I hope.”

“She’s suitable for me,” I say simply. “And that’s all you need to know.”

A sharp exhale crackles through the line. “Damian, you cannot run a company based on—”

“I’m not discussing this tonight.” My patience is thinning dangerously. “I want to see you. Tomorrow. Noon.”

“Is that an instruction?” she snaps.

“Yes.”

A pause. Then: “Fine.”

I hang up before she can launch into another lecture.

My pulse is thrumming, loud in my ears. Between Kayna, the company, the stolen funds, and now my mother…it feels like the walls are closing in.

I drag myself upstairs, kicking off my shoes on the way. I’m too wound up to sleep, too exhausted to think clearly, but I collapse onto the bed anyway, hoping the dark will give me quiet.

It doesn’t.

All I see is Kayna.

Her eyes when she said yes.

Her hesitation.

Her strength.

Her fear.

Her trust—thin, fragile, but still there.

And the tiny, stupid, dangerous part of me that whispered I want her, a part I should’ve strangled months ago, only grows louder.

I let out a shuddering breath.

Tomorrow, everything changes.

Tomorrow, the world will know I’m marrying Kayna Scott.

And for the first time since this nightmare began…

I’m terrified of how much I want it to be real.