Liam was standing by his office window when Grace walked in. The city sprawled behind him in gleaming angles and glass, but he only saw her.
"You didn't have to wait," she said, gently closing the door behind her
"I wasn't going to leave without seeing you again"
She crossed the room slowly. "Your sister… she's great."
"She likes you" he said, softer now. "That doesn't happen often."
"Smart girl, then" Elena teased, but her voice wavered on the edges. Too much had been said. Too much hadn't "how old is she"
"Eighteen, she was just born when my father passed away and then the time she turned Eight that's when my mother died as well"
"She most certainly got a rough childhood"
" yeah she did but still she always smiles reminding me of how great of a leader brother I was to her and that made me work harder to support her in every way possible"
" I wish I had a sibling who will adore me that way"
Damien turned toward her. His tie was loosened, shirt sleeves rolled back. He looked less like a tech titan, and more like a man carrying too many thoughts. Too much want.
"I meant what I said yesterday," he murmured. "I'm done pretending. I'm not going to play nice or keep my distance to make this easier for you."
"I don't need it to be easy," she said. "I just need it to be real "
Liam stepped forward, his hand grazing her waist with hesitation like he was giving her one last chance to pull away.
She didn't
"Grace " His voice was low, reverent. "You undo me."
Her breath caught as he leaned in not a kiss this time, not at first. Just his forehead against hers. Like he needed to feel her there to believe she was real.
She let her hands curl into his shirt, steadying herself. "I've spent years building a name. An identity. Something separate from my father, from politics. You're the only person who ever saw it and challenged it."
"I didn't want to," Liam whispered. "I couldn't help it."
Their lips met, slow and searching, with none of the fire from that first kiss in the car but all the heat of something deeper. His hand cupped her cheek, her fingers tightening in his shirt. It wasn't dominance. It was surrender, from both sides.
When he pulled back, his eyes were darker. "Come home with me."
Grace hesitated.
"I don't mean" he paused, adjusting. "Not for that. Just... come home. Let me make dinner. Let's just be, without politics or projects or power plays."
She studied him for a beat. Then she smiled.
"Only if I get to pick the wine."
A relieved grin broke across his face. "Deal."
He reached for her hand not in a grand gesture, just quietly, like it had always been meant to fit there. She laced her fingers through his