The One She Hurt the Most

It started with a call.

A crisp, calculated voice from her assistant:

"The board has called an emergency meeting. Noon today. No agenda. No notice."

Elara didn't flinch.

But Jace saw it.

The flicker of doubt. The storm she was trying to keep inside her chest.

He moved behind her, resting a hand gently on her waist. "It's time, isn't it?"

She didn't answer.

Because they both knew — Raymond pulled the trigger.

The conference room at Quinn Holdings was filled with vultures.

Men in suits. Women in heels. All perfectly polite and deadly behind their smiles. Some loyal. Most not.

Elara walked in like a queen returning to claim her throne.

Black blazer. Crimson silk blouse. Heels that echoed like war drums. She didn't wait to be seated. She stood at the head of the table and looked each of them in the eye.

"I know why we're here," she said. "Let's not waste time pretending otherwise."

An older man leaned forward. Mr. Kerrigan. Conservative. Bitter. Opportunistic.

"There's been talk," he said.

"Talk," she repeated.

"Yes. Of betrayal. Of a scandal buried. Of our company being founded on lies and romantic deception."

Another voice. "There's an article—"

"I've read it," Elara cut in. "Twice."

"And?" Kerrigan challenged. "Is it true?"

Her jaw tightened.

"I won't defend what I did," she said. "Because I did it. I used what I had to save this empire when no one else would lift a damn finger."

Gasps. A few exchanged looks.

"I sacrificed something personal to protect something larger than myself. That's what leaders do. That's what my father did. That's what none of you had the stomach for when we were drowning."

"Still," Kerrigan said, "you seduced the heir of a rival company. You exploited his trust. You leaked confidential information—"

"Which led to exposing embezzlement, tax fraud, and three criminal indictments," she snapped. "And saved this board from being bought out and gutted."

"But you manipulated him."

Elara's voice dropped to a whisper.

"I loved him."

Silence.

Complete and total.

And then…

Another voice.

Not from the board.

"So did I."

The doors opened.

And he walked in.

Dorian Thorne.

The man she'd kissed in every photo. The man she destroyed. The man she hadn't seen in six years.

He looked the same—older, harder, sharper—but the same storm in his eyes.

Elara froze.

"Dorian—"

He held up a hand.

"I'm not here to accuse you. Or sue you. Or make a scene."

"Then why are you here?" Jace asked from the back, voice cold.

Everyone turned.

Some startled. Some confused.

But Elara's gaze never left Dorian.

"Because I read the article. And I wanted to see if you'd admit it."

She stood taller. "I did."

He nodded.

Then walked to the table and placed something down.

A letter.

Signed.

Stamped.

"I'm not pressing charges. I never planned to. And I'm not interested in retribution. I'm here to close a chapter."

A pause.

Then he looked her in the eye.

"I loved you. I don't anymore. But I needed to hear you say it."

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

He gave her a sad smile. "I know."

And then he walked out.

Just like that.

The room was stunned.

The board sat in silence.

Elara turned to them, voice steady. "Are we done?"

Someone nodded.

Another murmured, "We support you."

Kerrigan scowled but said nothing.

Meeting adjourned.

Just like that.

Back in the car, she collapsed into the seat.

Didn't speak.

Didn't move.

Jace drove in silence, gripping the wheel like he wanted to crush it.

He didn't take her home.

He took her out of the city.

"Where are we going?" she asked quietly.

"Somewhere with no walls."

Thirty minutes later, they reached a secluded lake house outside Manhattan. He'd rented it that morning.

No neighbors.

No cameras.

Just water, trees, and silence.

Elara stepped out of the car like she was waking from a dream.

Inside, she found the fireplace already lit.

A bottle of wine opened.

And silence thick enough to suffocate.

"I can't believe he came," she murmured.

"He wanted closure," Jace said. "And so did you."

She turned to him.

Eyes unreadable.

"Why did you bring me here?"

He moved toward her.

"Because you just stood in front of a boardroom full of men who would love to destroy you… and you didn't flinch. You faced the man you once betrayed. And you didn't lie."

He cupped her face gently.

"I needed to see that fire again. Not the mask. You."

She closed her eyes.

Whispered—

"I'm tired of pretending."

"Then stop."

"I don't know how to be touched without consequence."

"I'll take the consequences."

"You'll burn."

He smiled.

"Then burn me."

She kissed him like she wanted to destroy something.

And he let her.

They didn't make it to the bedroom.

He pushed her gently against the glass wall overlooking the lake, kissed her breathless as her blazer hit the floor.

She tugged his shirt off with impatient fingers. He grabbed her thighs, lifted her up, and she wrapped around him like she belonged there.

Like she always had.

His mouth found her neck, then her chest, trailing fire down her skin. She moaned when he slid a hand between her thighs, already wet, already his.

"No more walls," he growled. "No more lies."

"Yes," she gasped. "Yes, Jace—please—"

He slid into her in one hard, deep thrust.

And everything shattered.

They moved like a storm and a wildfire—violent, desperate, inevitable.

She clawed his back.

He slammed into her harder.

Faster.

Her head fell back, mouth open in a soundless cry as she shattered around him.

And when he came, it was with a groan against her mouth, as if branding her from the inside out.

They collapsed onto the floor, tangled in skin and sweat and breath.

Silence.

Except for her heartbeat.

And the three words she whispered before sleep stole her.

"I trust you now."