Happy Monday, my lovely mischief-makers and sass-takers. I hope you take today to appreciate your favorite person, from mothers and brothers to the sassy friend who thinks your ex deserves to bite the big one. And by big one, we mean your uncle’s hairy big toe. The chapters on this one will be around 500 words or more short, but—hey— enjoy!

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Chapter One:

by Roxanne Rene

Rowan Hart had three steadfast rules when it came to survival in the unpredictable world of adulthood:

1. Avoid all exes like the plague.
2. Never trust a job description that includes the phrase “like family” (because that usually meant unpaid overtime, endless group texts about Brenda’s obnoxious cat, and way too many awkward team-building exercises).
3. If all else fails, run—with everything you’ve got.

So, when she stepped into the towering glass headquarters of Cross Innovations for her first day as an executive assistant, the last thing she expected was to shatter all three rules in under five minutes.

“Mommy, that’s my daddy.”

Rowan’s heart plummeted to her stomach, the rush of blood echoing in her ears.

Her five-year-old daughter, Nessa, was pointing a chubby finger as though it were an arrow aimed directly at the man standing across the expansive lobby. The man she hadn’t seen in five long years. The man whose very existence she had kept hidden from her daughter, because revealing the truth seemed far too complicated.

Damien Cross.

With his tousled blond hair, broad shoulders, and piercing brown eyes, he was everything she had tried to forget—and everything she couldn’t escape. And he was absolutely, positively not supposed to be here.

Except, of course, he owned the damn company.

Oh my god. Just kill me now.

Rowan had about three precious seconds to process the situation before Damien turned his head. His gaze swept across the room, confident and unflappable—until it locked onto her. The atmosphere crackled with the inevitable confrontation, thickening with tension.

Instinctively, Rowan did what any sane woman would do in a crisis like this.

She grabbed Nessa, whirled around, and prepared to flee, her heart racing like a wild animal caught in a trap. It was a classic “run for your life” moment—except this time, she had a stubborn five-year-old in tow.

Unfortunately, she had forgotten that Nessa had inherited her father’s steely determination.

“Mommy! You said running is for emergencies!” Nessa protested, her voice high and forceful, not at all helping Rowan’s frantic escape.

“This is an emergency, kid!” Rowan hissed, desperately trying to guide them toward the exit.

But it was already too late.

“Rowan?”

His voice was smooth and rich, sliding down her spine like warm honey, igniting memories she had tried to bury.

Rowan turned slowly, feeling like a soldier facing a firing squad.

Damien stood mere feet away, towering and commanding in a perfectly tailored suit that probably cost more than her entire annual salary. He hadn’t changed at all; no—if anything, he had grown more captivating, more formidable.

His piercing gaze traveled from her to Nessa and then back to her, processing the weight of what he had just heard.

Rowan cleared her throat, the sound echoing nervously in the silence. “So! Crazy seeing you here. In your own company. Where you are very much the CEO. And my boss. Which I definitely knew beforehand… totally.”

Damien’s brows knit together, his expression shifting from surprise to suspicion. “You work here?”

A long, charged moment of silence followed.

Rowan nodded far too quickly. “Yup! Just started today. Super exciting stuff, really. So, um, how’s life treating you?”

Damien’s silence was heavy. His gaze had shifted back to Nessa, who was gazing up at him with a mixture of wonder and curiosity. His eyes narrowed, a tempest brewing in their depths, the weight of unspoken emotions heavy in the air.

He took a deliberate step closer, his demeanor tightening. “That girl… she—”

Rowan let out a nervous laugh, attempting to defuse the tension, though it sounded far from convincing. “Kids say the wildest things, don’t they?”

Damien’s jaw tightened, the air between them thick with unresolved questions. “Rowan.”

“Ha-ha, what?” she responded, feigning nonchalance.

“Office. Now.”

Rowan groaned internally, the last vestiges of her composure threatening to unravel. “I’d really love to, but I just remembered—I left my car running, my oven is on, and possibly my taxes are still unpaid, so I really should—”

Without waiting for her to finish, he turned sharply and strode toward the elevators, his authority palpable.

Rowan hesitated for a moment, torn between following him and making a break for it.

Nessa beamed up at her, undeterred by the looming storm. “He’s bossy. I like him.”

With a resigned sigh, Rowan took her daughter’s tiny hand and followed her annoyed boss upstairs.

This was shaping up to be a disaster of epic proportions.

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Let’s keep this romance rolling.

—> Continue to Chapter 2?