Page 17

ARIEL

The next morning, I woke up expecting to find Sterling beside me, but I rolled over to find cold sheets. A note rested on his pillow, scribbled in his sharp jagged handwriting.

Gone for a run. Don’t start the coffee without me. —S

I smiled, tracing the letters with my finger, imagining him scowling as he wrote it, as if the mere idea of me brewing my own cup without him was some unforgivable betrayal.

Even now, after the danger, the late-night confessions, the way he had slowly let me in, he was still Sterling.

Grumpy. Disciplined. Impossibly, infuriatingly endearing.

My phone rang on the nightstand. Martha, my agent’s name, flashed across the screen, and I snatched it up before the third ring.

“Ariel,” she said, her voice crackling with the kind of excitement that usually preceded either very good or very bad news. “Tell me you’re sitting down.”

I sat up straighter, the sheets pooling around my waist. “Why?”

“Because,” she said, drawing the word out like she was savoring it, “I just got off the phone with three publishers who are begging for a meeting after reading your draft. That biography on Sterling? They’re drooling over it. No ghostwriting bullshit, Ariel. Your name. On the cover. Your story.”

The room tilted. My throat tightened. “You’re joking.”

“Do I sound like I’m joking?” Martha laughed. “Ariel, this is it. Your break. They want you.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The morning light suddenly too sharp, too real. They want me. Not just my polished sentences slipped into someone else’s memoir, not just my invisible fixes. Me. My words. My name.

All those years of rejections, of barely scraping by, of wondering if I’d ever be more than a ghost behind someone else’s story.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, my eyes stinging with tears.

And now, here I was, in Sterling’s penthouse, my name on the lips of publishers who’d once dismissed me.

It felt surreal, like I’d stepped into someone else’s life.

Sterling would be back soon, sweaty and breathing hard from his run, and I’d tell him, watch his face do that thing where he tried not to look too excited and fail miserably.

But for now, I just sat there, phone clutched in my hand, staring at the empty space beside me and wondering how the hell my life had changed so completely in the span of a single morning.

“Ariel? You still there?”

“Yeah,” I managed, wiping at my cheeks. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good. Because we’ve got meetings to schedule. And, Ariel?” She paused. “I’m proud of you.”

I hung up, clutching the phone to my chest. The penthouse was silent except for the steady rhythm of my own heartbeat.

The sound of the espresso machine hissing in the kitchen pulled me from my thoughts.

I glanced toward the doorway, a smile tugging at my lips.

Sterling was back from his run, and the scent of coffee was already filling the penthouse.

I padded barefoot across the cool floor, the excitement of this morning’s news still buzzing in my chest like champagne bubbles.

I found Sterling in the kitchen, shirt damp from his run, his dark hair tousled. He was scowling at the espresso machine like it had personally offended him.

“You’re supposed to wait for me to make the coffee,” I said, leaning against the doorway.

He turned, his scowl softening when he saw me. “You were sleeping. And this thing is a menace.”

I crossed the room and nudged him aside with my hip. “Move over, billionaire. Let the professional handle it.”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Professional? Last time I checked, you burned toast.”

I shot him a mock glare. Holding his gaze, I pressed the espresso button with exaggerated precision. “That was one time. And it was your fault for distracting me.”

His laugh was low and warm. His hands settled on my hips as he leaned in. “Guilty as charged.”

I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face. “Martha called. Publishers want my book. My name, my words.”

Sterling went still. Then, in one swift motion, he spun me around and lifted me onto the counter with his hands framing my hips. His eyes burned with pride. “About damn time.”

“I know,” I breathed, my fingers curling into his damp shirt.

The kiss that followed stole my breath and my sanity. It was hard, possessive, joyous. We were both breathless before he pulled back just enough to press his forehead to mine. “I told you they would see how brilliant you are.”

I laughed, giddy. “Took them long enough.”

His lips found mine again, slower this time, lingering with promise. “Their loss. I’ve known for months.”

The espresso machine hissed, breaking the moment. Sterling reached behind me to turn it off, his chest brushing mine. “Breakfast first. Then we celebrate.”

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of laughter and stolen kisses, the anxiety of the past few weeks melting away.

Later, as we ate, the news played on the penthouse’s massive television screen.

Sterling’s press conference dominated every channel, his face splashed across every news and entertainment channel.

Nightfang Heir Denounces Family Empire, Pledges Fortune to Charity

Billionaire’s Bold Move: Sterling Nightfang’s Redemption

FBI Raids Nightfang Compound: Matriarch Violet Nightfang in Custody

Sterling’s fork clattered against his plate.

On the screen, footage showed federal agents swarming the Nightfang estate, and Violet being led away in handcuffs, her once-impeccable coif disheveled.

Even then, she stared defiantly at the camera, her face a cold mask.

The reporter’s voiceover rattled off the charges one by one, racketeering, money laundering, human trafficking, each word a hammer blow to the family’s legacy.

I reached for Sterling’s hand, my fingers threading through his. He didn’t speak, his gaze fixed on the screen, his jaw tight.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

He exhaled, long and slow, before turning to me.

“Yeah. It’s just strange. Seeing it all come crashing down like this.

I hated what she stood for, what she did, but she’s still my mother.

And now she’s gone.” He looked at me, his eyes searching mine for understanding.

“Does that make me weak? To feel this way?”

I shook my head, my heart aching for him. “No.It makes you human. You’re allowed to grieve the mother you deserved, even if she wasn’t the one you had.”

I squeezed his hand, my thumb brushing over his knuckles. “It’s over. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I know,” he said. “It’s just, I spent so much of my life running from her, from all of it. And now…”

“Now you’re free,” I finished for him.

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw the weight of everything he’d carried. The guilt, the fear, the anger. But then he smiled, slowly but genuinely. “Yeah. I am.”

The rest of the day was quiet, the two of us wrapped in our bubble, safe from the chaos outside.

But that evening, Sterling surprised me with a reservation at Elysium.

The ma?tre d’ led us to a private table by the window, and as Sterling pulled out my chair, I caught the faintest smirk on the man’s face before he discreetly slipped away.

The meal was exquisite, each course a deliciously crafted piece of art. But it wasn’t the food or the shimmering city view that made the night unforgettable. It was the way Sterling looked at me, like I was the only thing in the room that mattered.

When the dessert plates were cleared, he stood, holding out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Here?”

He grinned, pulling me to my feet. “Why not?”

The restaurant’s soft music swelled as he led me to the small dance floor.

His arms wrapped around me. The violin’s melody wrapped around us, the scent of roses from the centerpiece mingling with his scent.

His hand was warm against the small of my back, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. I rested my head against his chest.

“I never thought I’d have this,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. “A life that’s mine. A future I can be proud of. You.” His lips brushed my temple. “I love you, Ariel. More than I ever thought possible.”

I tilted my head back to look at him, my throat tight. “I love you too,” I whispered. “Always.”

His hand cupped my cheek. “You didn’t just remind me of who I could be,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You showed me how to get there. Every step of the way, you were there, pushing me, believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

I smiled, my heart swelling. “You did the hard part, Sterling. I just held your hand.”

He shook his head, his gaze unwavering. “No.You gave me the courage to take the first step.”

He hesitated for a moment, his grip tightening slightly around me.

“When I was a kid, I used to sneak onto the roof of our estate and pretend I could see the whole city,” he admitted.

“I’d imagine a life where I wasn’t a Nightfang, where I could just be me.

But I never thought it would actually happen.

” He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. “And then you came along.”

I smiled, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips. “And now you have it all.”

“No,” he corrected, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Now I have you. That’s everything.”

The music faded, but we stayed on the dance floor, wrapped in each other’s arms. I wasn’t just surviving anymore either.

The girl who’d once been afraid to dream too big was gone.

In her place was a woman who’d found her voice, her strength, and her place in the world.

It was right here, in Sterling’s arms. Together, we weren’t just thriving. We were unstoppable.