No Escaping Now

Ryan adjusted his cufflinks for the third time that evening, but no amount of straightening could steady his hands. His stomach twisted in knots, his mind racing through a hundred different excuses to get out of going to the Morelli auction.

"Sienna, do we really have to go tonight?" He tried to keep his voice even, casual, as he watched her slip on a pair of diamond earrings.

Sienna scoffed, rolling her eyes at his reflection in the mirror. "Ryan. It's one of the biggest nights in the industry. Everyone will be there."

That was exactly the problem.

Ryan swallowed hard. He had managed to stay out of Damien Cross's sight for years, always moving carefully, keeping his name under the radar. But tonight, there was no avoiding it. He had overheard the whispers—Damien was coming.

He tried again. "I just think we could sit this one out. It's only day one, Maybe—"

Sienna turned, her lips pressing together in annoyance. "You're acting weird. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," he lied quickly. "I'm just tired."

"Well, too bad. We're going." She grabbed her clutch and strode toward the door, not giving him a chance to argue further. "Now stop being dramatic and let's go."

Ryan forced himself to nod, even as dread settled heavily in his chest.

What would become of him when Damien finally gets his grip on him?

He wiped off a bead of sweat on his forehead and went after Sienna.

He always knew this day would come and there was no escaping it.

______

Damien leaned back in his car, his fingers drumming against his knee as he stared out at the passing huge buildings. His patience had stretched thin over the years, but tonight, it would finally pay off.

He scrolled through his phone in the back seat, there was a quiet intensity in the way his fingers tapped against the screen.

His eyes narrowed as the guest list for the auction loaded, name after name - CEOs, politicians, investors, and socialites.

And then he saw it….the name he'd been looking for.

Ryan Hastings.

The man who had stolen from him, who had dragged CrossCorp through the mud with his greed, who had slept with the only woman Damien once thought he loved. Ryan had been running for years, ducking behind the Bennett influence, hiding in the comfort of the wealth he didn't deserve. But no one outran him forever.

Not when he wanted them found.

"Interesting" he muttered, catching Ethan's attention in the passenger seat.

"Something caught your attention, sir," Ethan asked.

Damien let out a low chuckle, the sound deep and rich with delight. He tightened his hand around the phone as he leaned back, eyes gleaming with something almost predatory.

"Well?" Ethan prompted, sensing the shift in Damien's mood.

Damien turned the screen toward him, tapping Ryan's name. "He's here."

Ethan's brows lifted, "I figured he would be, his partner is obsessed with appearances, no way she'd miss this or let him."

Damien let out a devious smile which Ethan caught.

"What's the plan then? Whatever is in your head, not tonight Damien."

"All is well Graves, we'll see," Damien said sternly as he looked out the window.

The smile did not leave his lips as he imagined how this night would end. Would Ryan try to talk his way out of it? Would he pathetically beg for forgiveness? Or would he attempt to run again, as if there was anywhere left to hide?

He adjusted the cuffs of his suit, rubbing his palms together as the car pulled up to the Morelli Mansion. The moment he stepped inside, he knew Ryan would feel it—that impending, suffocating presence of knowing he was trapped.

It was about time. He was here. And so was his prey.

_____

The Morelli estate was alive with elegance and wealth. Crystal chandeliers hung from the grand hall in golden light, and champagne flowed freely between the most powerful figures in the city.

Chloe arrived with Noah, her arm loosely hooked around his as they moved through the crowd. She wasn't here to impress anyone, but even she had to admit that Noah made for good company. He was charming in a way that didn't demand attention but effortlessly held it.

"See? It's not so bad," Noah murmured as they passed a group of executives deep in conversation.

"I never said it would be bad," Chloe replied, her eyes scanning the room. It wasn't difficult to spot her father. The way he carried himself like he owned the place. His presence was daunting and Chloe hated that.

She didn't miss how tense he looked. His grip on his glass was tight, his gaze darting around the room as if waiting for something terrible to happen.

She shrugged it off, her dad never liked such events anyway. So she wasn't surprised how weird he was acting.

"This is impressive, isn't it?" Noah murmured, tilting his head toward the grandeur around them.

Chloe nodded in agreement. "It's extravagant."

"If you think this is extravagant, wait until you see the bids. Morelli doesn't do things halfway."

Chloe was only half-listening. She had attended auctions before, but tonight, she felt different. She was tense, her eyes glancing around the room as if she were looking for someone.

"Is there something you're looking for…or someone?" Noah asked noticing how distracted she was.

"No, I'm just taking it all in." She said, but her attention drifted when she caught sight of Damien across the room.

He wasn't alone, of course. Dressed in a sharp black suit, he exuded quiet dominance. 

Damien's presence commanded attention, he was in a small crowd of both men and women, talking his ears out, asking questions he had no plans of answering, he was distracted.

His gaze was blank as he surveyed the room, and for a brief moment, their eyes met.

Chloe held his stare, refusing to be the first to look away.

Damien smirked. Then, as if she were of no meaning, he nodded, turned and walked deeper into the auction.

She exhaled, shaking her head. "Unbelievable."

"What?" Noah asked.

"Nothing." She said quickly grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "Just watching the competition."

"Well, if you're searching for Damien Cross, he's already here."

Chloe shook slightly but masked it with a cool expression. "I bet he is."

Noah noticed the shift in her expression, turning to face her, he asked. "You sure you're okay?"

Her face looked flushed, and she let out a quiet sigh. "I just need some air," she said, handing her drink over to him as she walked away making her way through the crowd.

______

Ryan Hastings felt like a man walking toward his execution.

The weight of his sins clung to him as he adjusted his collar, his hands clammy despite the crisp evening air. He had tried, really tried to convince Sienna to skip this damn auction, throwing out excuse after excuse, but she had been relentless.

Now, as they stepped inside the opulent estate, his heart pounded in his chest.

Damien was here.

He knew it. He could feel it.

His gaze darted around, scanning the crowd, searching for the one man he had been desperate to avoid.

Sienna, oblivious to his inner turmoil, looped her arm through his and smiled. "Relax, Ryan. You look like you're walking into a battlefield.

He forced a chuckle. "Just not a fan of these events."

She rolled her eyes. "You'll survive. Now, let's get a drink."

He let her lead him further into the hall, but his mind was elsewhere. Escape routes. Blind spots. Anything that would keep him from crossing paths with Damien tonight.

But deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time.

As the crowd got larger each person began to settle into their seats ready to outbid one another. 

Ryan was looking for a way out, he wasn't here to outbid if anything he wanted to outrun but before he could make a move, he heard the clinking of a glass.

Vincent Morelli cleared his throat, tapping his glass lightly with a silver spoon.

The murmurs in the hall gradually died down as the guests turned their attention to the elevated platform where he stood, a glass of aged whiskey in hand and a practised smile on his lips.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to an evening of undeniable prestige and artistry. Tonight, you'll have the opportunity to bid on some of the finest works from history's most celebrated artists, as well as rare, one-of-a-kind primary estates that reflect the essence of wealth itself. The Morelli family has long believed that art is more than just beauty—it is power, legacy, and influence."

A wave of polite applause followed. Morelli let it settle before continuing.

"Before we begin, I would like to acknowledge the presence of a truly distinguished guest. Among them, is a man whose name needs no introduction. One of the most formidable figures in our industry. My friend - CEO and co-founder of CrossCorp, Damien Cross."

Another round of applause filled the hall as Damien stepped forward.

Chloe walked back into the hall just in time and froze mid-step, her eyes locking onto Damien as he made his way toward the platform.

Ryan couldn't move. His stomach twisted in knots.

His breath lodged itself in his throat as Damien ascended the platform. He approached Vincent Morelli with a firm handshake, a brief exchange of pleasantries passing between them. 

Damien reached for the microphone, his movements slow and calculated.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began smoothly, his deep voice resonating through the speakers.

As he spoke, his gaze drifted over the crowd. He took his time, letting his words carry through the hall as he addressed the room with confidence.

Then, suddenly his eyes found him.

Ryan.

For the first time all night, Damien stilled. It wasn't obvious—just a fraction of a pause, so slight that most wouldn't even notice. But Ryan did. He felt the shift like a storm rolling in, dark and inevitable.

A slow, devious look crept into Damien's eye.

Ryan's stomach twisted painfully. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The weight of that gaze settled over him like a death sentence.

He had spent years running.

But tonight, the past had finally caught up to him.

And there was no escaping now.