I Write Songs About You - Braden Bales; Meet You At The Graveyard - Cleffy
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Chapter Twenty-Eight
Diane Dalton adjusted her seat on the private jet, glancing down at the city shrinking beneath the clouds. The hum of the engines was oddly soothing, a stark contrast to the whirlwind her mind had become over the past twenty-four hours. Business overseas was meant to be a distraction, a focus on expansion, client meetings, and strategy, but her thoughts refused to cooperate.
Chelsea's message pinged almost immediately after takeoff: "Diane… you need to see this. Jeffrey & Alexander. Too comfortable. I repeat: TOO comfortable."
Diane's heart skipped a beat, and she stared at the image Chelsea had attached. Jeffrey, effortlessly charming as always, laughing with Alexander at a private event in the city. The ease between them was unmistakable, the familiarity almost intimate. Diane's chest tightened, an unfamiliar combination of jealousy and disbelief twisting inside her.
She shoved the phone aside, trying to breathe. Focus on work. Focus on work. Focus on work.
The meetings began in earnest. Diane moved from client to client, meticulously reviewing plans, approving designs, and negotiating deals that would expand her fashion empire into new international markets. Each handshake, each decision, was deliberate, professional, polished. But in the back of her mind, the image of Jeffrey laughing with Alexander lingered.
Every time her phone buzzed, her pulse raced, anticipating a message or a call from him. And every time it wasn't Jeffrey, her chest tightened further.
By the time the luncheon ended, Diane found herself retreating to a quiet corner of the hotel, sipping tea while reviewing contracts. Chelsea, thankfully, was always on top of the details, sending notes and gentle reminders. But even Chelsea's presence couldn't completely anchor Diane.
Her thoughts kept returning to Jeffrey, the intensity in his gaze, the effortless command he carried, the subtle ways he had always tested her limits. He wouldn't need to speak, Diane thought bitterly. He could make me doubt myself with a single look.
Meanwhile, halfway across the world, Jeffrey Black was pacing in his penthouse, phone in hand, staring at Alexander's messages confirming the details of a joint venture he'd arranged for the week. Jason had left him with a sly grin after their last conversation, teasing relentlessly about how Diane was probably stewing over lunch with Alexander.
Jeffrey ran a hand through his hair, a growl escaping him as he considered the image Chelsea might have sent Diane if she were in the country. He refused to call, to text, to admit that the thought of Diane Dalton possibly entertaining Alexander Pierce in any way, shape, or form unsettled him far more than it should.
She's not mine, he muttered to himself, though every instinct screamed otherwise. And yet… I can't stop thinking about her.
Back on the jet, Diane finally allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes as the hum of the engines filled the space. Why am I letting him, Jeffrey Black, get to me like this? she thought. She had always been in control, always calculated, always prepared. And yet, here she was, hundreds of miles away, still tangled in a game she didn't want to play but couldn't help participating in.
The flight attendants brought refreshments, but Diane barely noticed. Instead, she reviewed the upcoming itinerary, preparing for the gala she was scheduled to host in the city. Her mind was sharp, but her emotions were fraying at the edges. Alexander Pierce had been charming, capable, tempting, but he wasn't Jeffrey. And that reality made her stomach twist.
Chelsea, ever vigilant, leaned over in the small executive cabin. "Diane, you're staring into the clouds again. Come back to reality. We've got work to do, and you can't let your mind wander."
"I know," Diane admitted quietly, forcing a smile. "It's just… complicated."
Chelsea smirked knowingly. "Complicated? Diane Dalton, you're talking about Jeffrey Black, right?"
Diane's jaw tightened, but she didn't answer. Chelsea's knowing grin was infuriating and comforting all at once.
Meanwhile, in the city, Alexander Pierce reviewed the contracts from their meeting, completely unaware of the tension he had unintentionally stirred. He had been careful to remain respectful, professional, and charming, but his casual ease with Diane had been enough to ignite sparks of jealousy across continents.
At the same time, Jeffrey sat down with Damon and Jason in the Black family study, swirling his glass of whiskey. "I don't like this," he admitted quietly, voice taut. "Seeing her with him… it's ridiculous, but I can't shake it."
Jason grinned, raising an eyebrow. "You're in too deep, brother. Admit it."
Jeffrey scowled, slamming the glass down. "I am not… I can't....she's just… she's…" He trailed off, frustration evident in the tight set of his jaw.
Damon, ever the observer, leaned back, arms crossed. "Relax. She's Diane Dalton. She evaluates everything and everyone. If Alexander can hold her attention for five minutes, it won't matter. But you need to remember, she's not yours. Not yet."
Jeffrey's glare was sharp. "Not mine? She doesn't belong to anyone. But right now… I don't want anyone else to get close."
Diane, on the other side of the world, finally forced herself to concentrate. She reviewed designs, approved shipments, and called in teams to oversee international contracts. Yet every glance at her phone, every ping, made her wonder what Jeffrey was doing, whether he was thinking of her, or if he even cared.
The flight touched down as the evening city lights flickered to life below. Diane adjusted her blazer, smoothing her hair. Chelsea was next to her, tablet in hand. "You ready for the gala?" she asked.
Diane took a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Chelsea smirked. "And you'll be fabulous. Just… keep an eye on him."
Diane rolled her eyes, but the warning didn't go unheard. She knew that tonight, at the gala, the delicate balance of desire, ambition, and rivalry would shift again. Alexander Pierce had proven himself tempting; Jeffrey Black remained an unpredictable storm. And Diane Dalton, as always, would have to navigate it all with precision, poise, and the tiniest hint of danger.
As they exited the jet, Diane Dalton allowed herself a final, private thought. I can handle this. I've handled bigger storms. But… Jeffrey Black is different. And I don't know if I'm ready for the way he makes me feel.
The night stretched ahead like a promise, and a warning... mostly a warning
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