Chapter 2
1315 Words
The jet cut through the clouds as New York City came into view, glittering beneath a gray morning sky. The familiar skyline should have grounded Ethan Rossi, but his mind was still thousands of miles away in a velvet-draped booth in Paris, with a kiss he couldn’t forget even if he tried.
Marco unbuckled his belt dramatically. “Home sweet home. Land of stress, skyscrapers, and people who pretend they don’t know who we are.”
“Speak for yourself,” Liam said. “My neighbor still thinks I’m a plumber.”
Ethan didn’t laugh. He stood by the airplane window, jaw tight.
Marco nudged him. “Still thinking about Mystery Lips?”
Ethan didn’t bother denying it. “Drop it.”
“Oh, he’s broken,” Liam whispered to Marco. “We should bury him in the backyard.”
“Shut up,” Ethan muttered, grabbing his coat as the plane touched down.
Paris had been fun until it wasn’t. The moment that kiss happened, everything else—the parties, the nightlife, the noise all felt dull. When he couldn’t find the girl, irritation turned to frustration, and frustration to something dangerously close to longing.
And he didn’t long.
Not since he was a boy who watched doctors fail to save the only woman who ever truly loved him.
But that kiss…
He shook the thought off as he exited the plane and entered the private terminal where his driver waited.
“Sir,” the driver greeted. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks, James,” Ethan said, sliding into the back seat.
Liam followed, plopping beside him. “So, back to CEO life. Are you ready to dive into sixteen hours of screaming board members?”
“No,” Ethan said honestly.
Marco leaned forward. “Also just a tiny reminder...your girlfriend is waiting.”
Ethan froze. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
Liam coughed. “Arranged partner? Daddy’s diplomatic offering? Corporate merger with legs?”
Ethan glared. “Her name is Caitlyn Harrington, and she’s..”
“Obsessed with you?” Marco offered.
“Annoying?” Liam added.
“Determined,” Ethan corrected through clenched teeth. “Our fathers think a marriage would ‘stabilize the company’s image.’”
“It’s 2025,” Liam said. “Who still arranges marriages?”
“Billionaires with too much time,” Marco answered.
Ethan leaned his head back against the seat. Caitlyn wasn’t bad, technically. She was beautiful, polished, and graceful but she had the emotional subtlety of a bulldozer. She clung to him like a spider on a windshield and acted like his entire existence was a love letter written for her.
The driver interrupted gently. “Sir, Ms. Harrington has already arrived at your penthouse. She insisted.”
Of course she did.
Caitlyn Harrington didn’t believe in boundaries. Or privacy. Or space.
Ethan exhaled a long breath, bracing himself.
The moment he stepped into the penthouse, he heard her.
“Ethan! Baby! You didn’t tell me you landed early!”
She practically launched herself across the room, arms wrapping around him before he even dropped his suitcase.
Ethan stiffened. “Caitlyn..air.”
She didn’t let go. “You were gone for two whole days. Do you know how awful that was for me?”
Liam whispered to Marco, “Two days… tragic.”
Marco nodded solemnly. “Romeo and Juliet could never.”
Ethan shot them a warning look and peeled Caitlyn off him. “I had a business event.”
“In Paris?” she frowned. “Your father said it was a networking gala.”
“Something like that,” Ethan muttered.
Marco coughed, muttering, “If by networking you mean kissing random masked women…”
Ethan elbowed him sharply.
Caitlyn glanced between them suspiciously. “What did you say?”
“Jet-lag,” Marco lied. “Makes us delirious.”
Caitlyn returned her attention to Ethan. “Well, I planned a dinner for us. Just the two of us. Very intimate, Candlelight, oysters, rose petals on your bed..”
“Cancel it,” Ethan said immediately.
Her smile faltered. “What?”
“I have work,” he said, walking past her.
She followed like a shadow. “But Ethan..”
“It’s final.”he said with his face straightened.
Her lips trembled theatrically before she reset her perfect smile. “Then I’ll help! I can sit in your office while you work.”
“No,” Ethan said flatly.
She blinked. “You’re so funny.”
Ethan didn’t reply. He headed toward the elevator that led to the upper bedroom floors. He needed space, air, and Silence. Something to drown out the suffocating cling of Caitlyn and the echoing memory of a kiss that had ruined him.
Meanwhile, across the city, Talia Beaumont clutched a small backpack to her chest as she sat in the back of a cab.
Her heart thumped nervously.
New city.
New country.
New life.
She left Paris only two weeks after the carnival disaster. She couldn’t stay, not with a stepfather who used fear like a weapon, not with a mother who pretended not to see the bruises. Talia was done shrinking, done hoping, and done waiting for someone to help her when she could help herself.
So she got on a flight to New York with a tourist visa and a job offer she found through a domestic-worker agency.
A live-in housekeeper position.
Stable pay.
Safe environment.
Her only wish was to disappear into a quiet, normal routine.
The cab pulled up to a tall glass building in Manhattan.
Talia stepped out, nervous but determined.
She was five minutes early for her first day.
The agency’s email said:
“Report to the residence of Ethan Rossi.”
She didn’t know who that was and didn’t care because all she wanted was peace.
Back in the penthouse, Ethan headed downstairs after a quick shower. His phone buzzed—his father again. He ignored it.
Then James, the head butler, approached. “Sir, your new housekeeper is arriving today. The agency assigned her this morning. I believe she’s in the lobby now.”
Ethan frowned. “Housekeeper? Already?”
“Yes. We were short-staffed. Your father approved it.”
“Of course he did,” Ethan muttered. “Fine. Bring her up.”
Minutes later, the elevator dinged.
James stepped out first. And behind him…
A girl emerged.
Small, soft features. A gentle posture. Dark eyes that looked like they carried stories she never told. Her hair fell in loose waves, and she clutched her bag with both hands.
Ethan paused.
Something stirred in his chest.
James gestured. “Sir, this is Ms. Beaumont. Your new…”.
But Ethan didn’t hear the rest because something warm, electric pricked the back of his mind.
Something familiar.
No.
Impossible.
He studied her face. Something tugged at him like a half-forgotten dream.
She looked up shyly, polite and their eyes met.
Talia felt a jolt in her chest.
Why… why did her breath catch like that?
Why did her lips tingle like they had touched his before?
Her heartbeat raced strangely.
Unfamiliar.
Uncomfortable.
But she looked away quickly.
There was no reason to feel anything.
She had never met him.
And Ethan?
He dismissed the strange pull, shaking it off.
No way.
It couldn’t be her.
He would know.
Wouldn’t he?
James cleared his throat. “Shall I show her to her room?”
“Yes,” Ethan said distractedly.
Talia followed James through the hallway, hands trembling.
She didn’t know why.
Why being near that stranger felt like déjà vu wrapped in electricity and why her chest tightened like she was missing something important.
She glanced back
Ethan was watching her.
Confused.
That made two of them.
Because neither had any idea…
They had already kissed.
And fate had just placed them under the same roof.
- Writer
