Chapter Fourteen: The Confession

The storm had passed, but not the storm inside Lia.

Rain pattered softly against the window panes of her mother's modest home. It was a familiar sound; comforting, even, but tonight it felt like a soundtrack to her emotional chaos. Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced the rim of her mug of now-cold tea.

It had been two weeks since Damien showed up at her doorstep, vulnerable and real, asking her not to give up on them. Two weeks of tentative texts, short calls, and long silences. She wanted more, not out of entitlement, but because her heart refused to let go.

She was falling. Maybe she already had.

And now, it was unbearable to hold it all in.

Lia grabbed her phone and typed a message to Damien: Can we talk? In person.

She hesitated. Her thumb hovered over the screen. Then, she hit send.

The reply came quicker than she expected: Come over. I'll be waiting.

Damien stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse, the city lights below casting a warm glow across the hardwood floors. He'd been running numbers all day, but not business figures. Just her name.

Lia.

He hadn't stopped thinking about the way she left, about the way it had felt to stand in a house too quiet, to eat meals alone again. She had brought life to his solitude, and now her absence haunted every inch of his space.

The doorbell echoed through the apartment, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned and walked briskly to open it.

There she was.

Rain speckled her coat, her damp curls clinging to her face. But her eyes held a storm fiercer than any rain could match.

"Come in," he said softly, stepping aside.

She nodded and walked in, shedding her coat and placing it neatly on the armchair. Gloria was nowhere in sight, perhaps Damien had asked for privacy tonight.

They stood in the living room, a few feet apart.

"I needed to say this in person," Lia started, her voice tight with nerves. "Because if I say it over the phone or in a message, I might pretend it didn't happen."

Damien didn't speak. He watched her, sensing the weight of whatever was about to break free.

"I tried to stop it," she said. "I told myself it was fake. That this whole thing was just a contract. A means to an end. But then you got sick, and I saw you; really saw you, and everything changed."

He stiffened slightly, but didn't interrupt.

"You let your walls down. Even for a moment. And that moment was enough for me to see that you're more than the ruthless businessman, more than the cold boss." Her eyes shone now. "You're someone who's lonely. Someone who's been hurt. Someone who cares more than you let on."

Damien turned away, as though her words were too much to absorb. Lia stepped closer.

"I'm in love with you, Damien."

The words landed in the room like thunder.

He didn't turn back to her.

"I know that wasn't part of the plan," she added quietly. "I just needed you to know."

Damien inhaled deeply, gripping the back of the couch like it anchored him.

"You think love is easy for me?" he finally said, his voice rough. "You think I don't want to believe you?"

Lia blinked, startled.

He turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

"Every time I get close to someone, they leave. Or they lie. Or they want something from me." His jaw tightened. "My own father sold company secrets to the highest bidder. My mother left when I was ten and never looked back. And Vanessa... she saw me as a brand, not a man."

Lia took a tentative step closer.

"I'm not them."

Damien looked at her, something flickering in his eyes.

"But how do I know that?" he asked. "How do I trust that what you feel is real and not just gratitude, or... sympathy?"

Lia's lips parted in quiet disbelief.

"Gratitude?" she echoed. "Damien, I walked away from money, luxury, and security because I couldn't stand the way you shut me out. I chose my peace over all of that. Does that sound like someone who pities you?"

He didn't answer, but he didn't look away either.

"I fell for you in the silences, Damien. In the way you watched me when you thought I wasn't looking. In the way you argued with Ethan when he made a snide remark about me. In the way you kept my mother's rent paid when I wasn't even speaking to you."

His breath hitched.

"I found the receipts," she said softly. "You did it anonymously. But I know it was you."

Damien ran a hand through his hair, tension visibly draining from his shoulders.

"I did it because I didn't want you to worry," he admitted. "Because I know how much you've sacrificed."

"And I'd do it again," she whispered. "But I won't keep chasing you if you won't let me in."

Silence stretched between them.

Then Damien crossed the space in two long strides and pulled her into his arms.

"I'm in love with you too," he murmured into her hair. "I've been falling since the moment you challenged me in that boardroom. But I didn't know how to fight for it. I didn't know how to be someone worthy of you."

She held him tightly, her heart pounding in his embrace.

"You already are," she said.

They stood like that for a long time, the rain now a soft lullaby beyond the windows.

When they finally pulled apart, Damien touched her cheek gently.

"No more lies," he said.

"No more walls," she agreed.

They kissed, not tentative, not forced. Just real. The kind of kiss that needed no translation.

The contract might have started it all.

But love... love had rewritten the terms entirely.