My Boss is My Ex's Brother

The Gala

*Chapter 5: The Gala*

The invitation landed on my desk at 9:03am. Thick cardstock. Gold embossing.

_Cole Enterprises Annual Gala_

_Black Tie. Plus One Optional._

_Grand Ballroom, Eko Hotel, Lagos. 8pm._

Optional. Right.

By 9:05am, Damien’s assistant dropped a garment bag on my chair.

“From Mr. Cole.” She didn’t make eye contact. “Wear it tonight.”

Inside: a midnight blue dress. Sleeveless. Silk. It fit like it was measured to me.

There was a note tucked in the pocket. Sharp, black ink.

_Wear this. -D_

No “please”. No “if you want”. Just a command.

I should’ve said no. I’m not his plus one. I’m his Strategy Lead.

I’m also the woman whose mom’s hospital bills he paid last week with “no strings attached”.

I texted him: _I don’t do galas._

He replied in 30 seconds: _You do tonight. 7:30. Car will pick you up._

Rule #1 was already dead. We just hadn’t buried it yet.

---

*Present: 7:55pm. Grand Ballroom, Eko Hotel.*

Crystal chandeliers. String quartet. 300 people who make more in a month than I made last year.

I stepped out of the car and immediately regretted the heels.

The dress hugged everywhere I didn’t want it to. The slit went too high.

“Ms. Monroe.”

Damien was waiting by the entrance. Tuxedo. No tie. Top two buttons undone. Hair perfectly messy like he’d been running his hands through it.

He looked at me once. From my heels to my eyes. His jaw ticked.

“You came.”

“You told me to.”

He offered his arm. “Then let’s get this over with.”

The second we walked in, the room shifted. Whispers. Phones.

_That’s Damien Cole._

_Who’s that with him?_

_Isn’t that the new Strategy Lead? The one who used to date his brother?_

I kept my eyes forward. Chin up. Like I belonged.

Damien led me to a table near the stage. Investors. Board members. All of them staring.

He pulled out my chair. Leaned down. His cologne hit me. Cedar and something darker.

“Smile,” he murmured, just for me. “They’re already talking. Don’t give them more.”

So I smiled.

For two hours we worked the room. He introduced me as “Our Strategy Lead. The reason we’re still in business.”

Not “Ava”. Not “my employee”.

_Ours._

I gave numbers. I shook hands. I laughed at jokes that weren’t funny.

And the whole time, I felt him. A step behind me. A hand that almost touched my back when someone got too close.

At 9:47pm I went to the bar for water. My feet hurt. My face hurt from smiling.

“Ava.”

I knew that voice before I turned.

Tyler.

Gray tux. Perfect hair. That same smile he used when he wanted to sell me something.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. Kept my voice low.

“I’m a Cole,” he said, like that answered everything. “I go where I want.” He looked me up and down. “You look... different. Richer.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Notice you?” He stepped closer. “Come on. We were good. Before you ghosted me.”

The ballroom was loud. No one was watching.

But across the room, Damien had stopped talking mid-sentence. His eyes were on us.

“I didn’t ghost you,” I said. “I left because you cheated.”

His smile dropped. “That was two years ago. People change.”

“Do they?”

He reached for my arm. “Let me explain. Please. For old times’ sake.”

I pulled back. “There are no old times.”

---

*Flashback: 2 Years Ago. Tyler’s Apartment. 1:47am.*

I had a key.

He’d texted: _Sick. Can you bring soup?_

The door was unlocked.

Music was playing. Low.

And in his bed, tangled in his sheets, was a girl with red lipstick and my boyfriend’s shirt.

She saw me first. Her eyes went wide.

Tyler sat up too fast. “Ava? What are you—”

“Don’t say my name.” My voice broke. The soup container slipped from my hands. Tomato and noodles all over his white rug.

“Ava, it’s not what it looks like—”

“Then what does it look like?” I laughed. It sounded wrong. “Because it looks like you lied.”

He followed me to the hallway. Barefoot. “She meant nothing. We were fighting. You were always working—”

“Don’t you dare blame me.”

I grabbed my bag. Walked out.

He called 14 times that night.

Damien texted once: _Is he okay?_

I never answered.

---

*Present: 9:49pm. The Gala.*

Tyler’s fingers brushed my wrist.

A hand caught his before he could close them.

Damien.

“Don’t touch her.”

The word wasn’t loud. But the entire ballroom heard it. The quartet actually missed a note.

Tyler yanked his arm back. “Relax, big brother. We’re just catching up.”

“We’re done catching up.” Damien didn’t look at me. His eyes were locked on Tyler. Dark. Flat. “You’re not on the guest list.”

“I’m family.”

“Not tonight.” Damien finally glanced at me. Just a second. Checking. “Security.”

Two guards appeared like they’d been waiting.

Tyler looked at me, desperate now. “Ava. Tell him. Tell him we can talk this out.”

I met his eyes. Then Damien’s.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said. Clear. Steady. “Leave.”

Security took his arm. Tyler tried one last time. “You’re making a mistake—”

The doors closed behind him.

Silence. Then the music started again.

Damien turned to me.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“I’m working on it.”

He exhaled. Ran a hand through his hair. For a second he looked tired. Not CEO tired. Brother tired.

“Dance with me.”

“What?”

“Dance. With me.”

It wasn’t a question.

He took my hand. Led me to the floor. The first song was slow. His hand settled on my back. Low. Warm. The other held mine.

We weren’t talking. 200 people were watching.

But all I could feel was him. The way his thumb moved against my knuckles. The way he kept exactly one inch of space between us.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I whispered.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because Rule #1 is gone, Ava.” His voice was low, only for me. “And I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to break every other rule too.”

My breath caught.

“Damien—”

“Not here.” He pulled me a fraction closer. “Not with cameras.”

We danced through two more songs.

When it ended, he dropped my hand like he’d been burned. The mask slid back on.

“Go home,” he said. “Car’s waiting.”

He walked away before I could answer.

---

*Flashback: 1 Week After I Left Tyler.*

I was at a coffee shop in Yaba. Crying into a 500 naira latte.

Someone sat down across from me.

Damien. In jeans and a hoodie. No suit. No CEO.

He didn’t say anything for 10 minutes. Just pushed a croissant toward me.

“Why are you here?” I finally asked.

“Because my brother’s an idiot.” He shrugged. “And because you looked like you needed someone who wouldn’t ask questions.”

“Did Tyler send you?”

“No.” He looked at me then. Really looked. “I came because I wanted to.”

He walked me to my car. Didn’t ask for my number. Didn’t ask what happened.

That was the last time I saw him before Cole Enterprises.

I’d forgotten about it until now.

---

*Present: 11:30pm. My Apartment.*

I kicked off the heels. The dress went on the chair.

My phone buzzed.

Damien: _You handled that well._

Me: _Thank you. For... stepping in._

Damien: _I would’ve done it if 300 people weren’t watching._

Me: _What does that mean?_

Damien: _It means I’m coming over._

Me: _What? No. Rule—_

Damien: _Rule #1 is gone. New rule: We talk. Face to face. 15 minutes._

My heart was pounding.

Me: _Damien, don’t._

Damien: _Too late. I’m already in the car._

20 minutes later there was a knock.

I opened the door. He was still in the tux. Hair damp from the rain. Holding two cups of coffee. Black. Mine.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I know.” He stepped inside. Closed the door. “Can I sit?”

We ended up on my couch. Not touching. The coffee between us.

“For two years I told myself I hated you,” he said. Staring at the floor. “Because you were with him. Because you left and he fell apart and I had to pick up the pieces.”

“I didn’t know—”

“I know.” He looked up. “Then I hired you. And Rule #1 was supposed to keep me safe.”

“And?”

“And it’s the stupidest rule I’ve ever made.”

The room was quiet except for the rain.

“Ava,” he said. My name sounded different in his mouth. “I don’t want to be your boss tonight. I don’t want to be Tyler’s brother tonight. I just want to be the guy who brought you coffee because you looked tired.”

I nodded. Couldn’t speak.

He set his cup down. Moved closer. Not touching. Just... close.

“Can I kiss you?”

The question wrecked me. Because he asked.

“Yes.”

His hand came up. Cupped my jaw. His thumb brushed my cheek. The same way he did in the hotel.

Then he kissed me.

It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t angry.

It was careful. Like he’d been thinking about it for 2 years and was terrified of getting it wrong.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.

“Rule #1 is officially dead,” he whispered.

“Good,” I whispered back. “Because I was terrible at following it.”

He laughed. Soft. Real.

“Stay,” I said before I could think.

He nodded.

We didn’t sleep. We talked. About Tyler. About his mom. About the merger. About how he noticed I drink black coffee on day 1.

At 4am he left. Kissed my forehead at the door.

“9am. My office. We figure this out.”

I closed the door and pressed my back to it.

My hands were shaking.

Rule #1 was dead.

And I had no idea what came next.

---

Coming next

*Chapter 6: 9am*?