Chapter 1

• The crisp, white envelope felt strangely heavy in Charlotte’s hands. The embossed lettering of “DeVille & Sons” shimmered under the soft light of her atelier, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within her. Inside, a formal invitation requested her presence at a meeting to discuss a commission, a bespoke necklace for Ms. Ester, fiancée of Damien.
• The name hit her like a physical blow, a phantom limb of a past she'd painstakingly buried. Damien. The very air seemed to thicken, the scent of her carefully cultivated jasmine and rose perfume suddenly cloying, a suffocating reminder of a time when her world had revolved around him, a time before the shattering silence of his absence.
• Years. It had been years since she’d last seen him. Now, this. A commission that felt less like a professional opportunity and more like a cruel twist of fate, a cosmic joke played with a heavy hand. The necklace, the very symbol of commitment and enduring love, felt like a mockery, a cruel reminder of the promise he’d broken, the life he'd abandoned.
• She traced the elegant script on the invitation again, her fingers lingering on the sharp edges of the letters, each stroke a painful prick to her carefully mended heart. The memory flickered: a stolen kiss under a Parisian sky, the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixing with the salty tang of the sea air, the electric spark that had ignited between them with such unexpected intensity. A fleeting, incandescent flame that had burned bright and then extinguished, leaving only ashes and the bitter taste of betrayal. He’d been a whirlwind, a force of nature, captivating and devastating in equal measure. And then, just as swiftly, he’d vanished, leaving her.
• Days turned into weeks, and the internal battle raged on whether she should accept or not.
• Finally, the allure of the challenge, the professional satisfaction of creating something truly extraordinary, and a strange, defiant need to face her past overcame her apprehension. She decided to accept the commission. It was a calculated risk, a leap of faith into the unknown. But deep down, a tiny spark of hope flickered – a hope that perhaps, just perhaps, this unexpected reunion could lead to some kind of resolution, a chance to reclaim a piece of her past, and maybe, just maybe, find a measure of peace.
• The initial meeting at DeVille & Sons was as tense as she’d anticipated. The opulent office, a testament to Damien’s staggering wealth, felt cold and impersonal, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of her own atelier.
• As Charlotte stepped into the sleek, polished interior of DeVille & Sons, her heart raced like a bird trapped in a cage. The walls, adorned with stunning pieces of art and lavish displays of jewelry, felt almost suffocating in their extravagance. She forced herself to breathe deeply, to collect her scattered thoughts. This was merely a business venture—a commission. Nothing more.
• Yet the moment she spotted Damien seated behind his expansive desk, the room blurred around the edges. He looked remarkably unchanged. The same tousled dark hair, the same piercing gaze that had once disarmed her with a simple glance. Time had chiseled him into something more refined, more formidable, but his presence sent a thrill down her spine—a mix of anticipation and dread.
• “Ms. Sinclair,” he greeted her, his voice smooth and even, though she could sense a slight tremor beneath the surface. He stood, extending a hand toward her, but there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes that he quickly masked, a subtle tension that rippled through his composed demeanor.
• Charlotte took his hand, the warmth of his skin igniting a cascade of memories—laughter, nights spent wrapped in each other’s arms, silent promises etched in their gazes. She forced a smile, reminding herself that she was here on business, that the past was behind her, even if a part of her longed to reach out and touch the heart of it once more.
• “Damien,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. “Thank you for inviting me.”
• He gestured for her to sit, the air thick with the unsaid as they both settled into their respective chairs. A few polite exchanges filled the silence, but she could feel the questions hanging in the space between them, unacknowledged yet palpable.