Where It All Began
POV: Kate (Flashback)
New York in spring was the kind of beautiful that lied to you. Blossoms masked heartbreak. Sunshine danced on glass towers like nothing could break. That day, Kate Monroe believed in all of it.
She had just stepped out of a buyers' conference, portfolio pressed tightly under her arm, heels clicking softly against the marble floor of the Waldorf lobby. Her mind was on glittering handbags and luxury labels, not men💔. Not anymore.
Until Dan Alexander stood by the stunning revolving doors.
He wasn't wearing a suit, but he still looked like power wrapped in ease. Casual black jeans, fitted charcoal turtleneck, aviators pushed up into thick dark hair. Women turned to admire him. Men straightened when he passed.
He noticed her.
"Kate Monroe," he said, blocking her path like a movie scene. "Fi…nally☺️."
She blinked, taken aback. "Do I know you?"
"Not yet. But I know you. Fashion buyer, Paris-trained. You turned down Cartier for independent freedom. That takes guts."
Kate felt her heart falter. Who researched someone before meeting them?
"Sounds like you Googled me."
"No," he replied smoothly. "Sounds like I was interested. There's a big difference, you know?"
She should have walked away. Should have rolled her eyes. Instead, her lips betrayed her with talks.
"And what exactly do you want, Mr…?"
"Dan. Alexander. Media baron. Occasional risk-taker. I want coffee. With you."
"You tracked me down for coffee?"
"Some women are worth finding twice."
Two Days Later
Kate found herself sitting across from him in a quiet corner of The Modern, all clean lines, warm light, and soft jazz whispering through air scented with vanilla and roasted espresso. The world outside buzzed, but here it was calm but dangerously so.
Dan stirred his coffee with the ease of a man used to controlling rooms, not nerves.
"You always this couragous?" she asked, wrapping her fingers around the warm ceramic cup, her palms damp with uncertainty.
"Only when I want something real."
"You don't even know me."
"I know how you look when you think no one is watching," he said. "Like the world isn't enough, but you're trying to make it work anyway."
Kate stilled. The comment shouldn't have hit her that hard. But it did.
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, gaze never dropping. "You remind me of someone I once lost. Not because she left, but because I didn't understand her in time."
Her throat tightened, but she covered it with a sip.
Outside, the city sparkled. Inside, something unspoken passed between them, a fragile thread neither of them dared name.
Two Weeks Later
They were on his yacht now. The Hudson stretched out around them like a silver ribbon, the city lights shimmering behind them.
Kate stood barefoot on the polished deck, her simple navy dress fluttering in the wind. Her toes curled against the wood as she gripped the rail, unsure if she feared the noisy water or the way Dan was looking at her.
"I'm not a fan of... this," she muttered. "Playing…Gaming…. partying….infact anything in water."
Dan handed her a glass, his fingers brushing hers with slow softness.
"Afraid?"
"Cautious⚠️."
"That's not the same thing."
He sipped his drink and leaned back against the railing, watching her.
"You don't like men like me."
"I don't like people who think they can own things they don't understand."
"And yet here you are."
"Don't get ahead of yourself."
A slow smile crossed his lips. "Tell me something real, Kate. Something that isn't on your LinkedIn."
She hesitated. Then, with a sigh, she sat beside him, legs curled under her.
"My father was a drunk. My mother left when I was ten. I learned how to curate beauty in a world that gave me nothing soft. Fashion became my armor."
Dan turned slightly, the wind teasing his hair.
"I was terrified of being average. My father built a business empire from scratch, and I was the boy who kept failing at everything that wasn't money. The first time I cried was when my dog died. I was twelve. I haven't cried since."
Kate looked at him. Really looked.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because sometimes we have to show our scars to someone else knows how deep the cut went."
Her breath hitched. Their pain sat side-by-side like twin anchors.
He reached out, slowly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You make silence feel like a conversation," he whispered.
She laughed, but it was soft. Shaky.
"You say things that should scare me. But they don't."
The air shifted. Their eyes locked.
Dan slowly leaned in on Kate but she didn't move away.
Her chest rested up closes and herr lips parted, not in invitation, but in awe.
He slowly sipped her lower lip like a new born,with time he adjusted to her upper lip and licked it like a slippery fruit.
His left hand crossed her shoulder, parting her back with ease.
Kate's hand found the edge of his jaw. His fingers slowly curled around the nape of her neck.
His right fingers rubbing her chest, slowly to get b**bs, cuddled down her navel.
They kissed💋like it could never end.
It was like two truths finally learning the same language.
The kiss was warm and slow, a quiet promise whispered against trembling skin.
Later that night, Kate stood alone on the lower deck.
The water whispered against the hull. Her lips still tingled from the kiss. Her heart felt both anchored and unmoored.
She had laughed with him. Felt seen. Like maybe the loneliness she carried wasn't a life sentence after all.
Then she heard it.
Dan.
Upstairs.
Talking on the phone.
She paid a rapt attention.
His voice was low. Intimate. Calculating.
"Yeah... No, she doesn't know yet. But she's perfect for it. We'll ease her in. She trusts me. Just a matter of time."
Each word slammed into her like cold waves.
She took one step up. Then another. Her heart clawed at her ribs. Her mind raced.
She doesn't know yet.
Perfect for it.
"She trusts me"..."She trust me"..."She trust me".....
Kate pressed her back to the wall, stomach churning. Her legs felt hollow.
Was it all a lie?
The gentle smiles. The vulnerable stories. The kiss?
Was she the plan?
A pawn in something bigger?
Tears didn't fall. Not yet. Only silence. Only betrayal sinking into her like ice.
When Dan reappeared minutes later, there was no guilt in his eyes.
Just that same charming smile.
She returned it. Sat beside hi
m. Let him refill her wine.
But something dark stirred within her.
Something silent.
Something dangerous.
If you're going to break me, Dan Alexander, you better pray I don't heal.