Everyone who knows Damian Cross knows he treated me like a princess. I once casually mentioned I wanted a star, and the next day, there was a certificate on my nightstand naming a celestial body "Sloane." Everyone thought he was hopelessly in love with me. I almost believed it myself. Until one day, I overheard him talking to his friends. "In love with Sloane? Don't make me laugh. She’s just a placeholder. A pastime to keep me entertained until Audrey gets back from Paris. Now that she’s returning, it’s time to cut Sloane loose." Hearing Damian’s words didn't break my heart. Actually, I let out a sigh of relief. Sleeping with the same man for two months is like eating the same meal every night. I was starving for something new. I immediately turned around and gifted the ten-thousand-dollar "breakup watch" I’d bought him to a gorgeous, obedient college student who knows exactly how to call me "Ma'am." 1 It was eleven at night when I got back to Damian’s penthouse. I kicked off my heels in the foyer and realized, a beat too late, that the living room wasn't empty. Damian was sitting in the dark on the leather sofa. He radiated an aura of "don't mess with me." His side profile was undeniably perfect. Sharp jawline, brooding eyes. That’s what attracted me in the first place. It’s just a shame... Even filet mignon gets boring if you have it every day. Thinking about how he planned to dump me made me hum a little tune. I walked past him, unbothered. He finally spoke, his voice low and laced with suppressed anger. "Where were you?" "Drinks with a friend." I finally noticed the dining table. The plating was exquisite, but the steak was stone cold. The tapered candles had burned down to awkward nubs. Rose petals were scattered across the mahogany, looking wilting and sad. I raised an eyebrow. "You did this?" His eyes were dark with possessiveness. "Why didn't you text back? Who were you with for this long?" I glanced at my phone. I remembered chatting with Leo, the young guy I’d met. My phone had been blowing up with notifications, so I’d checked it. Leo had looked up at me with those big, puppy-dog eyes, his voice dripping with playful jealousy. "You’re so busy, Sloane. I finally get a moment with you, and you’re talking to someone else? If you're busy, it’s okay... I’m just happy to sit next to you." He was handsome, young, and sweet. How could I not be charmed? So, I silenced my phone. Which meant I missed Damian’s texts telling me to come home early. I’d left him waiting all night. "Sorry," I said, sounding sincere enough. "Something important came up." Suddenly, rows of floating text appeared in the air in front of me. It was The Commentary. The toxic peanut gallery of the universe. [So the heroine’s 'important business' is cheating? Disgusting.] [What kind of romance heroine stays out until midnight? She should be waiting at home!] [She needs to learn her place. She only matters because the hero chose her!] [If a man stays out late, it’s business. If a woman does it, she’s loose. She deserves whatever happens to her.] [The hero cooked for the first time! He burned his hand for her! And she’s out flirting?] [She deserves it when he goes back to his true love, Audrey. She needs to be humbled.] I rolled my eyes at the invisible text. The double standards were exhausting. "Something important" meant networking. And Leo. Technically, we hadn't done anything but talk. Yet. 2 Still, I felt a twinge of guilt about the wasted steak. "You haven't eaten, right? Should I... order you a pizza?" "No," Damian said coldly. I nodded and headed for the shower. "I'll have my assistant book you a hotel tomorrow," Damian said to my back. "You’re moving out." I turned around, crossing my arms. "Is this the breakup?" I was about to say, Great, deal, when he cut me off. His gaze raked over me. "Were we ever really together?" I mentally kicked myself. Damn it. I should have used that line first. Imagine how satisfying that would have been. Damian saw the annoyance on my face and misinterpreted it as pain. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. His mood instantly lifted. "I have other properties," he said casually. "You can pick one. If I have time... I might visit." [See? He still loves her. He can’t let her go.] The Commentary floated by. I saw it for what it was. He wanted to keep me as a side piece while he pursued his "White Moonlight," Audrey. I’m the heiress to a fortune. I don’t do "side piece." "No thanks," I said. "I can afford a hotel." "Oh, right." I walked over to the sofa, grabbed my bag, and pulled out a stack of cash. Ten grand. I threw it onto the coffee table. "Consider this rent for the last two months. I don't want you to feel used. I'll stay tonight since it's late, but I'm gone in the morning." He frowned, disbelief written all over his face. "You’re treating my home like a motel?" I yawned, covering my mouth. "Isn't it?" I turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist. His eyes were intense. "Then who is your home, Sloane?" I ripped my hand away. "None of your business. You’re the one ending things. What, are you gonna miss me now?" His pupils constricted. He looked at me like I was radioactive. "Of course not." "Good," I smirked. "We were just having fun. It would be embarrassing if one of us caught feelings." Damian’s face turned black. "Whoever catches feelings is a dog." I went to the bedroom to grab my pajamas. The room was set up for seduction. Scented candles, fresh roses, and a box of strawberry condoms on the nightstand. A single rose petal had fallen right on the box. I suddenly felt nauseous. Thank god I stood him up. Eating the same meat every day really does ruin your appetite. The next morning, I checked into the Four Seasons. My phone buzzed. Damian: Where are you? I replied: Moved out. Thanks for the hospitality. Damian: Did you forget something? [She’s playing hard to get! He’s hooked!] The Commentary cheered. [She forgot her heart! She forgot HIM!] I thought for a second. Actually, I did. I Venmo’d him $500. Forgot to pay for last night’s stay. Thanks. Damian: You are unbelievable. Men are so contradictory. He wanted to break up, but now he’s mad I’m gone. 3 I saw Damian again a week later at a private charity auction. I brought Leo. And I gave him a title. Since we’d crossed the line from friends to lovers, Leo had been insatiable. Between breathless moments, he’d bite my ear and whisper, "Sloane, you have my body now. Give me a title. Call me your boyfriend." I was weak for him. So, there we were. And there was Damian, with Audrey, his "White Moonlight" who had just returned from France. Audrey was beautiful—elegant, poised, classic. We sat in the front row. Damian and Audrey sat directly behind us. Leo interlaced his fingers with mine. I felt a burning gaze boring into the back of my hand. A friend of Leo’s walked by and laughed. "Leo, you player. Your ex is staring daggers at you. Did you hire someone to make her jealous?" The burning gaze vanished. I heard Damian scoff behind me. I ignored him. The auction was boring until a vintage, limited-edition Patek Philippe watch came up. "That watch looks nice," Audrey whispered. "If you like it, it's yours," Damian declared. A few days ago, I had been looking at the auction catalog on Damian’s couch. He had asked what I liked. "Just the watch," I’d said. He knew. He was doing this on purpose. But I hadn't told him why I liked it. The moment I saw it, I knew it would look perfect on Leo’s strong, veiny wrist. 4 The bidding started at $100,000. I waited until the crowd thinned out. "Two hundred and fifty thousand," I said, raising my paddle. "Two hundred and thirty thousand," Damian said simultaneously. [Why is she bidding against him? It makes him look bad!] [She’s just jealous. She doesn't want him buying it for Audrey.] [She’s wasting money to get his attention. Pathetic.] "Three hundred thousand," Damian drawled. "Three hundred thousand and one dollar," I countered. "Three fifty." "Three fifty... and one dollar." By the time we hit six hundred thousand, it was just the two of us. Damian’s friend leaned over. "Dude, just ask her for it. She’ll give it to you." Damian apparently believed this delusion. I won the watch for $650,001. When the staff brought it over, Damian spoke up, cool and arrogant. "Audrey really likes that watch, Sloane. Let her have it." [She has to give it up! He asked!] I laughed. Loudly. "You’re generous with other people’s property, Damian. If you like giving things away so much, why don't you give me your CEO position?" I turned to Audrey. "Ms. Wu, be careful. A man who gives up on things you like this easily... isn't reliable." Damian looked ready to explode. I turned to Leo and handed him the box. "For you." I smiled. "I saw it in the catalog and knew it belonged on your wrist." Leo beamed. "Put it on for me?" I obliged. As I fastened the clasp, I glanced back. Damian was gripping Audrey’s arm so hard his knuckles were white. "Ouch! Damian!" Audrey cried out. He snapped out of his trance. "Sorry. I... I was distracted."
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