THE CEO'S FORGOTTEN NIGHT

Chapter 1 The scent of burnt coffee and dish soap clung to Ariella Johnson’s apron as she pushed through the back door of Lola’s Diner. The lunch rush had ended, but her feet still ached, and her head throbbed from the relentless clatter of plates and forced smiles. She pulled her phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen—no messages. Just like every other day. Her heart sank for a brief moment, then she shook it off. She had no room for disappointment, not when she had a five-year-old waiting at daycare and a pile of unpaid bills on her nightstand. “Ariella!” her manager barked from behind the counter. “Table three didn’t leave a tip. Again. Try smiling next time, maybe?” She bit her tongue and nodded. Smiling didn’t pay the bills. Not when you were serving people who barely looked at you. By the time her shift ended, the clouds outside had turned an angry gray, the promise of a storm heavy in the air. She slipped on her hoodie, zipped it up to her chin, and bolted out the door with her backpack slung over one shoulder. The streets buzzed with the usual chaos of the city, but she moved quickly, weaving past people, lost in her thoughts. She hadn’t planned on being a single mother at twenty-two. She hadn’t planned on raising a child alone with no family support. And she definitely hadn’t planned on that one night five years ago—the one night that changed everything. A drunken mistake. A pair of stormy gray eyes. A whispered name that never made it past his lips. She shook the memory away like a cold breeze and kept walking. --- The elevator chimed softly as she adjusted her skirt and clutched the resume in her hand. The building was too polished, too perfect, the kind of place people like her didn’t belong in. The kind of place where billionaires built empires and girls like her got ignored. But this interview was her last shot at a decent job. One that didn’t involve scrubbing floors or smiling through insults. Her friend from the diner had slipped her name into the applicant list for a personal assistant role at Blackwood Enterprises. The elevator doors opened to reveal a sleek marble lobby. A woman in a pencil skirt and blood-red lipstick glanced up from the reception desk. “Name?” she asked, already typing. “Ariella Johnson. I have a 3:30 interview.” “Take a seat. Mr. Blackwood will see you shortly.” Ariella’s heart skipped. Mr. Blackwood. She had heard that name somewhere. On business articles, on gossip blogs—the cold-hearted billionaire with a reputation for chewing up assistants and spitting them out. The thought of facing him made her palms sweat, but she held her chin up and walked to the empty leather chair in the corner. Minutes passed. Then the receptionist’s phone buzzed. “He’ll see you now.” She stood, legs shaking, and walked toward the frosted glass door. One step inside and the chill in the air wrapped around her like ice. The office was huge—floor-to-ceiling windows, dark furniture, and a towering desk at the far end. And behind it sat a man with his back turned, speaking into his phone. His voice was deep, smooth, commanding. It sent a shiver down her spine. “Send the contract to legal. If they stall again, we walk.” He ended the call and finally turned around. Ariella froze. Those eyes. Stormy gray. Sharp. Unforgettable. It couldn’t be. He stared at her, no recognition in his expression, just mild annoyance. “You’re the applicant?” She nodded slowly, every nerve in her body on fire. Her legs wanted to run, but her heart stayed still. “I’m Damien Blackwood,” he said coolly. “Let’s make this quick. I don’t have time for long interviews.” He didn’t remember her. Of course he didn’t. To him, that night had been nothing. Just another blur in his rich, powerful life. But to her, it had been everything. The start of her biggest blessing—and her biggest secret. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood. I’m ready.”