Valerie’s POV

“Fuuuckk...”

The word leaked out of Maya’s mouth in a stunned, breathless drawl. She stood frozen beside me, her eyes darting between the bed and my face like she was trying to calculate if this was a horrific hallucination.

I couldn't move. I couldn't even blink.

The girl on the bed was Chloe. My stepsister. My stepmother’s golden-child daughter who had spent the last three years acting like my breath was taking up her oxygen.

“I didn't even know this bitch was at this party,” I whispered, my voice coming out raspy, stripped of any warmth.

A sick, cold realization pooled in the pit of my stomach, heavy as lead. All the late-night ‘just a friend’ calls Gavin suddenly had to take. The sudden "parties" he couldn't invite me to. The way Chloe had started wearing his favorite designer cologne scent like a taunt. I had seen every single red flag, and like a total fucking idiot, I’d swept them all under the rug just because I wanted us to work out.

Gavin scrambled off the bed, hastily yanking up his trousers and fumbling with his belt. Chloe didn't bother to rush. She sat up, casually pulling her silk slip dress down over her thighs, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder with a sneer that hit me like a splash of acid.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Valerie,” Chloe snapped, sliding off the edge of the mattress and grabbing her heels. “Stop whining like a helpless little baby. Did you seriously think he loved you? You are so damn dumb. He’s been fucking me for weeks right under your nose, and you didn't suspect a single thing.”

My chest heaved. I looked at Gavin, who was standing there staring at his leather shoes like they were the most fascinating things on earth.

“Wow,” I let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh, my stomach twisting into a knot. “You can’t even speak for yourself? You’re just going to let her run her mouth?”

Gavin finally looked up, raising his hands in a pathetic, defensive gesture. “Look, Val... it doesn't really mean anything, okay? We were just having fun. You’ve been so stressed with work lately, and….”

“Don't you dare try to turn this on me!” I spat, taking a violent step forward.

“Ugh, don't cause a scene, Valerie,” Chloe rolled her eyes, stepping in front of Gavin with her hand on her hip. “Nobody likes a bitter…”

“You know what? I’ll show you a fucking scene,” Maya growled.

Before I could even react, Maya launched herself across the room. She grabbed Chloe by her synthetic blonde roots, yanked her head back until Chloe let out an ear-splitting shriek, and dragged her straight out into the carpeted hallway.

“Get off me, you crazy bitch!” Chloe screamed, flailing her manicured nails.

Maya slammed her against the wall and delivered a flying, open-handed slap that echoed down the corridor like a gunshot. SMACK.

“Maya!” Gavin yelled, rushing out of the bedroom.

Chloe scrambled on the floor, weeping and clutching her bright red cheek. Maya lunged again, but Gavin wrapped his arms around Maya’s waist, hauling her backward with everything he had to separate them.

“Get the fuck off me!” Maya snarled, kicking violently at Gavin’s shins until he stumbled back.

Chloe pulled herself up by the wall, trembling, her cheap mascara running down her face. She tried to muster her usual superiority, pointing a shaky finger at Maya. “Yeah! Back the fuck off, bitch!”

I didn't waste another second looking at Chloe’s pathetic face. My hands were shaking violently as I looked down at my right hand, catching the glint of the delicate platinum promise ring Gavin had given me on our two-year anniversary. “A down payment on our future,” he’d lied.

I pulled it off my finger.

“Here’s your stupid ring,” I said, my voice dropping into a deadly, freezing quiet. I whipped it directly at Gavin’s chest. It hit his white shirt and clinked onto the floor. “I can’t believe I listened to a single word of your lies. Fuck you.”

“Val, wait….” Gavin choked out, taking a step toward me.

“Touch her and I will break your fingers,” Maya warned, stepping between us, her breathing heavy and her hair wild. She grabbed my arm, her grip tight and protective. “We’re leaving.”

Maya dragged me down the spiral staircase, past the thumping bass of the DJ, past the sea of oblivious drunk twenty-somethings, and out into the cool night air.

The second the front gates closed behind us, the dam broke.

Tears surged past my eyes, hot and blinding, spilling over my cheeks. I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth to force down the ugly sob clawing at my throat. I refused to look back. I refused to let Gavin or Chloe see me broken.

“Come on, baby, I’ve got you,” Maya muttered, unlocking her beat-up hatchback parked down the street.

It had started to rain, a heavy, relentless Chicago downpour that turned the asphalt into a black mirror. We scrambled into the front seats, slamming the doors shut against the storm. The sound of rain lashing against the windshield filled the dark cabin.

I sank into the passenger seat, pulling my knees up to my chest in my red dress, and just cried. Raw, furious tears.

“I hate her,” I choked out, wiping my nose with a handful of glovebox napkins Maya handed me. “I fucking hate her, Maya. Chloe has been doing this my entire life. Ever since her and Evelyn moved into my dad's house, she’s taken everything she could get her hands on. Every leverage, every friend, every target. And now him.”

Maya started the engine, pulling out into the dark street. Her face was set in a hard, furious scowl as she navigated the windshield wipers.

“Hey,” Maya said softly, glancing over at me. “Listen to me. Gavin is an absolute trash-can human being. He wasn't meant for you, Val. You shouldn't beat yourself up over a spineless, weak boy when there are plenty of fine-ass, grown men out there waiting for a girl like you to look their way.”

“I just feel so stupid,” I sobbed, though a wet, pathetic laugh snuck out of my mouth. “I literally let him wear my dad's old cuff links last week.”

“Okay, well, first of all, we’re breaking into his apartment next week and stealing those back,” Maya snorted, flicking her indicator. “Second of all, Chloe looks like a knock-off Barbie that got left on a hot dashboard. Did you see her extensions when I pulled them? Half of them came out in my hand. I have them in my purse right now if you want to burn them.”

A real, loud laugh burst out of my chest, cutting right through my tears. I wiped my face, leaning my head back against the headrest as Maya kept going, firing off dry, ridiculous insults about Gavin’s wardrobe and Chloe’s terrible posture until my crying turned entirely into breathless giggles.

“God, I love you,” I mumbled, scrubbing the mascara from under my eyes.

“I know you do. Now stop crying over garbage,” Maya smiled, merging the car onto the grand, open lanes of the I-90 highway. The rain was coming down sideways now, lightning flashing pale purple across the heavy clouds above us.

We were cruising down the slick asphalt when a violent, metallic BANG echoed from beneath the floorboards.

The rear passenger side of the car dropped instantly. The steering wheel jerked violently in Maya’s hands, the hatchback sliding sideways across the rain-drenched lane with a horrific screech of rubber against wet concrete.

“Holy shit!” Maya yelled, gripping the wheel with white knuckles, wrestling the fishtailing car back into line before we could smash into the concrete median. She slammed her foot onto the brake, forcing the car onto the narrow gravel shoulder of the highway.

The engine sputtered and died. Smoke billowed out from under the hood, instantly washed away by the torrential rain.

Silence settled over the car, save for the violent thumping of the rain on the roof and the hazard lights blinking a dull, rhythmic orange.

Maya and I sat frozen, wide-eyed, staring at each other in the dim light.

Slowly, we unbuckled and cracked our doors open, stepping out onto the flooded shoulder, shielding our eyes with our hands as water instantly soaked through my red dress and Maya’s leather pants.

I leaned over to look at the back wheel. The tire wasn't just flat, it was completely shredded to pieces, jammed awkwardly against a broken axle.

I stood up straight in the pouring rain, water streaming down my face, ruining my hair, and soaking me to the bone. I looked up at the dark, storm-filled sky and let out a dry, hysterical laugh.

“Fantastic,” I yelled over the thunder. “As if this day couldn't get any fucking better!”

Highway Strangers

Valerie’s POV

“Yeah, that tire is completely fucked,” Maya wiped rain out of her eyes, kicking the mangled rubber of her rear wheel. “I’m gonna have to call a tow truck. Ugh.”

Water was currently pooling inside my designer heels, my red dress glued to my skin like a second layer of frozen wrap. “Call Jules,” I yelled over the roaring downpour. “Maybe he can pick us up.”

“On a Friday night? Girl, please,” Maya scoffed, pulling her phone out of her leather jumpsuit. Her screen was flickering violently, half-drowned by the storm. “Jules is probably three cocktails deep in the club by now. He’s definitely not answering.”

She tapped out the call anyway, holding the phone to her ear. Five seconds later, she pulled it away, glaring at the screen. “Straight to voicemail.”

“Told you,” she muttered.

I was shivering so violently my teeth were practically clicking together. “What else are we supposed to do? Walk down I-90 in six-inch heels?”

Before Maya could launch into another rant, blinding headlights cut through the heavy gray curtain of rain behind us.

A sleek, black Maybach SUV, at least what I thought it was, pulled onto the shoulder, smoothly gliding to a stop just a few feet in front of Maya’s smoking hatchback. The engine purred with silent, terrifying precision.

Maya and I locked eyes instantly, a shared, silent look communicating- who the hell is pulling over right now?

The driver-side glass rolled down silently, revealing a sharp, shadowed profile.

“Looks like you two are stuck,” a voice cut through the sound of the rain. It was deep, smooth as velvet, and carried an effortless, commanding gravel that sent an electric shiver straight down my spine. “Mind taking a ride?”

Maya and I stepped closer to the window, shielding our eyes from the headlights to catch a glimpse of the driver.

My breath instantly caught in my throat. My brain hit a complete, screeching halt.

Carved jawline. Cold, striking features. Piercing, icy-blue eyes that could freeze water.

Damon Blackwood.

The Damon Blackwood. The untouchable, brutal billionaire CEO of Blackwood Corp.

Beside me, Maya’s hand grabbed my thigh in a vice-like grip, her long nails digging into my red dress as she frantically tugged at my leg under the rain. Her wide eyes were practically screaming, Girl, are you seeing what the actual fuck I’m seeing?!

I pinched her wrist right back, signaling a hard, silent play it fucking cool.

Neither of us said a word about who he was. Out in the real world, we were just two drenched women stranded on the highway, inside Blackwood HQ, we were workers on floor fifteen and twenty-two who had only ever seen his face on corporate press releases and high-floor elevator screens.

“We.….. yeah, we would really appreciate a ride,” Maya said, finding her voice first and putting on a smooth smile. “Except I can’t just leave my car stranded here.”

“Don’t worry about the car, I’ll handle that” Damon said smoothly, his icy gaze flickering to me for a fraction of a second before unlocking the rear passenger doors. “Hop in out of the rain, and give me your keys.”

We didn't hesitate. Maya scrambled in first, sliding across the wide, plush leather bench of the back seat, and I tumbled in right behind her, slamming the heavy door shut against the howling storm.

The sound of the torrential rain instantly vanished, replaced by the quiet, hummed purr of the custom engine. The cabin smelled suffocatingly expensive.

Maya fumbled with her dripping purse, her hands shaking so violently from the cold that her keys clattered against her designer clutch before she managed to pass the ring up to the front console.

By the time Damon picked them up, a black Range Rover serving as an escort vehicle had pulled over behind the Maybach and parked along the gravel. A towering security guard in a dark suit stepped out into the rain, marching directly to Damon’s window.

Damon rolled his window down two inches, handing Maya’s keys through the gap to the guard without even turning his head.

“Stay behind,” Damon instructed, his deep voice carrying effortless command over the storm. “Get this car towed to the corporate garage. Have Miller’s team fix it tonight and charge it to my account. Make sure it’s fully repaired. I’ll text you the address and have it parked out front by morning.”

“Understood, sir.”

The guard took the key and stepped back into the rain.

Damon rolled the window back up, draping his long, suit-clad arm over the back of the passenger seat as he smoothly checked his side mirror. He shifted the Maybach into drive, pulling us seamlessly back onto the slick, dark road.

“Give me your addresses,” he commanded softly, his eyes lifting to the rearview mirror.

For a moment, neither Maya nor I said anything. We still hadn’t fully processed what was happening. Just minutes ago, we’d been stranded trying to figure out what to do. Now we were sitting in THE Damon Blackwood’s Maybach, and somehow he was driving us home.

Maya blurted hers out first. I gave mine right after, my voice sounding impossibly small against the low hum of the engine.

Damon pulled out his phone with one hand and sent Maya’s address to his bodyguard before setting it back down.

“Your car will be at your house by morning,” he said, his gaze flicking toward Maya through the mirror.

Maya blinked. “Thank you so much.”

I swallowed. “Thank you.” His eyes lingered on us for a moment before his expression hardened with something more serious.

“Are you two alright?” he asked.

His gaze caught mine in the glass, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. His eyes were an ungodly, razor-sharp blue.

“Oh, we’re totally fine,” Maya piped up instantly, her loud mouth running at absolute warp speed. “Well, if you don’t count the fact that my best friend Valerie here just caught her scumbag boyfriend actively fucking her stepsister !”

“Maya! Ugh!” I groaned, delivering a sharp, furious slap to her arm that made her leather jumpsuit react with a loud thwack. My face instantly ignited in absolute, searing mortification.

Damon’s dark brows twitched upward in the rearview mirror. His eyes locked onto mine through the glass, holding my gaze with a heavy, suffocating intensity that made my lungs freeze.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he murmured.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” I muttered, grabbing my dripping hair and pulling it over one shoulder just to have something to do with my hands.

As I glanced back up, I caught him. His eyes weren't on my face anymore. They dipped lower, slowly and deliberately tracking the sheer, wet fabric of my off-shoulder red dress, lingering on my boobs, and the outline of my chest where the rain had made my dress cling like liquid latex. The sheer heat in his gaze was so heavy it practically scorched my skin through the glass.

My breath hitched violently in my throat. I smoothed down the wet fabric of my dress, forcing my eyes toward the blurred city lights outside the window.

“No, it’s not fine!” Maya insisted, completely oblivious to the thick, suffocating air filling the back seat. “Gavin is an absolute douchebag, and Chloe is the literal devil. I should’ve pulled out more of her extensions.”

“I assume Gavin is the boyfriend?” Damon asked, his tone smooth, dangerously calm, and entirely unbothered.

“Ex-boyfriend,” I corrected sharply, my chest heaving as I looked back at the mirror. “You mean ex.”

A small, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of Damon’s sharp, sculpted lips.

“Well,” Damon murmured, his deep voice dropping an octave into something low, and lethal. “For what it’s worth... Any man would have to be a complete fool to cheat on a woman like you”

The sentence hit the dark cabin like a live wire, sending an electric shock straight down my spine. My mouth went completely, hopelessly dry.

The rest of the drive passed in a thick silence that felt heavier than the rain outside. By the time the Maybach pulled up to the curb outside Maya’s high-rise apartment building, the storm had finally died down to a soft, misty drizzle.

“This is me,” Maya said, gathering her wet clutch. “Thank you so much. Seriously, you’re a total lifesaver.”

As she unbuckled her seatbelt, Maya leaned across the leather seat, pretending to pull me into a goodbye hug. She lowered her head straight to my ear, whispering at a frantic, borderline-violent speed.

“Girl… he is DEFINITELY checking you out! The fucking Damon Blackwood! If he’s trying to get laid tonight, you should let it play out so you can take your mind off stupid-ass Gavin!”

My eyes widened. “Maya,” I hissed, barely managing to keep my voice down.

Before I could choke out anything else or smack her across the face, she pulled back, flashed me a manic, unhinged grin, and made a quick hand gesture telling me to call her. Then she wiggled her eyebrows up and down in absolute, shameless teasing.

I rolled my eyes. “Bye, Maya.”

“Call me,” she mouthed, pointing at me one last time.

I shook my head, fighting the urge to laugh despite myself. “Yeah, yeah. Go.”

Maya opened the door and stepped out into the night, slamming it shut behind her.

And just like that, I was completely alone in the quiet darkness of the back seat with the most ruthless billionaire in Chicago.

Valerie’s POV

The silence in the car was deafening the second Maya’s apartment building disappeared behind us.

Without Maya’s constant stream of consciousness filling the cabin, the air felt ridiculously thick, filled only by the low hum of the engine and the faint, woodsy scent of Damon’s expensive cologne.

I sank back against the leather seat, staring out the window as we glided through the West Loop. Every few seconds, I felt it, a subtle shift in the air, the unmistakable weight of his gaze.

Whenever I dared to glance at the rearview mirror, Damon was already looking at me. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. His icy blue eyes held mine for a beat, cool and calculating, before returning to the road.

It felt like he wanted to say something, but his reputation preceded him. Damon Blackwood was a wall of cold, untouchable steel. If corporate rumors were anything to go by, he didn’t do casual conversation, and he certainly didn’t do small talk.

“Take a left at the next light on Fulton,” I said, my voice cutting through the quiet cabin.

Damon smoothly signaled, sweeping the Maybach onto my street before bringing it to a stop outside my apartment building.

It wasn’t a sleek glass high-rise or some ridiculous luxury penthouse. My West Loop apartment was modest, comfortable, and completely funded by my own salary, a place I’d rented specifically so I wouldn’t have to live under my stepmother’s roof.

“Here we are,” I murmured, unbuckling my seatbelt and reaching for the door handle.

Before my fingers could even touch the latch, the driver-side door opened.

I blinked, watching through the dark glass as Damon stepped out into the misty night. He walked around the hood with long, deliberate strides, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he reached the back door and pulled it open for me.

My breath hitched in my throat. I just stared at him for a second, thoroughly thrown off.

Is this actually happening?

This was the same man corporate legend painted as a ruthless, unfeeling mons. A billionaire CEO who supposedly fired department heads over miscalculated decimals and was allegedly incapable of maintaining a romantic relationship because he ran his personal life like a hostile takeover.

Yet here he was, holding open a car door for a low-level analyst. For me!!.

“Thank you,” I said, stepping onto the wet pavement.

My red dress was still damp, clinging to my frame as the cool night breeze brushed against my skin.

Damon stood tall beside me, easily towering over me at six-foot-three, his broad shoulders blocking out the yellow streetlights behind him.

He didn't immediately step back. His icy gaze lingered on my face, dropping to my lips for a split second before returning to my eyes

“I hope you don’t spend the rest of the night overthinking a scumbag,” Damon said softly, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated straight through me. “You deserve significantly better than what happened back there.”

My jaw almost dropped. My heart did a sudden, violent flip in my chest. Is Damon Blackwood actually flirting with me?

I forced myself to swallow, squeezing my clutch so tightly my knuckles turned white.

“I….. thank you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Valerie.”

Hearing my name roll off his tongue in that deep, velvet tone sent an electric surge straight down my spine.

I turned sharply on my heel and hurried toward the lobby doors. But even as I pulled out my key fob, I could feel his eyes on me, following me until I disappeared inside.

I practically sprinted into the elevator and rested my forehead against the cool metallic wall as the doors slid shut.

The second I stepped inside my apartment, I kicked off my soaked heels, locked the deadbolt, and unhooked my bra, ripping it off with a heavy sigh of relief. The underwire had been digging into my ribs for hours.

I walked straight into the bathroom, stripped off my dress, and stepped beneath a scalding-hot shower.

The water hit my skin, washing away the smell of smoke, cheap alcohol, and rain.

Standing beneath the stream with my hands braced against the wet tile, a single hot tear slipped down my cheek. I scrubbed angrily at my face and let out a shaky breath.

It wasn't just about Gavin cheating. It was the absolute waste of three years. My father had trusted Gavin. Before Dad passed away, he’d literally given Gavin a job at Sinclair Dynamics, shaking his hand and giving us his blessing. I had genuinely thought Gavin was my future, the one stable thing left in my chaotic life. And in less than ten minutes, it had all turned out to be a pathetic, humiliating lie.

I shut off the water, wrapped myself in a plush towel, and slipped into a silk nightie.

Tumbling onto my bed, my phone buzzed. I picked it up. Three unread messages from Gavin, Two from Maya.

I swiped past Gavin’s name without a second thought, ignoring the pathetic Val, please let me explain preview, and opened Maya’s chat.

Maya: GIRL. I am in my apartment staring at my dry-cleaned carpet. I STILL CANNOT BELIEVE THE DAMON BLACKWOOD DROPPED US OFF.

Maya: Give me an update right now. Did he follow you inside?? Did you guys make out in the Maybach?? TELL ME.

I snorted, my thumb flying across the keyboard.

Me: No, Maya. He opened my door, said goodnight, and drove away. Nothing happened, okay?

Maya: Boringgg! What a wasted opportunity for revenge dick.

A laugh burst out of me, heavy and tired.

Maya: In all seriousness though… fuck Gavin. And double fuck Chloe. Don’t waste your tears on that spineless bitch. You’re that girl, Val. I’m here whenever you need me. Ride or die.

Me: Love you. Thanks for tonight, seriously.

I plugged my phone into the charger, tossed it onto the nightstand, and collapsed against the pillows.

My mind drifted right back to Damon. His sharp jaw, the way his dark suit fit his broad frame, the intense, dangerous look in his eyes in the rearview mirror.….. I shuddered, pulling the duvet over my shoulders. God, I hope he doesn't recognize me at the office.

The odds were low. Blackwood HQ had over two thousand employees. I was a Marketing Analyst on floor fifteen; he inhabited the cold, god-like ether of the 60th-floor executive suite. We lived in completely different universes. I’d barely ever seen him in person before tonight, so there was no reason our paths would ever cross again.

I let out a long breath, finally letting exhaustion take over, and drifted into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

~~The next morning, a pounding ache throbbed behind my eyes as my alarm went off.

I groaned, rolling over to hit snooze, but the loud ding of an incoming priority email shattered the silence. I dragged my phone to my face, squinting through the morning sunlight filtering into my bedroom.

The sender made my stomach drop- Vance & Associates. My stepmother’s lawyers. I opened the email.

I barely made it past the subject line before the remnants of sleep vanished completely.

Emergency Board Meeting — Sinclair Dynamics.

My eyes raced over the details beneath it.

Saturday, Noon, Sinclair Dynamics headquarters.

And the words Estate Trust Audit & Executive Board Restructuring jumped out at me.

I sat upright so quickly the room spun. An emergency board meeting? Today?

My pulse began hammering against my ribs as I reread the notification, searching for some explanation that wasn’t there. The fog in my head disappeared, replaced by a surge of cold adrenaline.

I stared at the screen, my fingers tightening around my phone.

“What the fuck is she up to now?” I whispered to the empty room.