Silk and Scars
1492 Words
Alexis stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror at six in the morning.
On the surface, she was flawless, her dark hair was pinned into a chignon, her makeup perfect enough to belong on a magazine cover, a tailored Armani suit that screamed power.
But her fingers kept drifting to her throat.
The memory of Hunter’s mouth on her skin, his breath hot against her neck as he pinned her against the wall just beyond the ballroom’s golden lights refused to fade.
The champagne had gone to her head and had clouded her judgment, and she had let him pull her into his arms like she was twenty-two again.
“Stupid,” she whispered to the mirror. “So incredibly stupid.”
The mark was faint now, hidden under layers of concealer, but she could still feel it like a brand.
No one else would notice, but she knew Hunter would.
Her phone rang and it was Marcus, of course, Always punctual and always composed.
“The Adam & Sons team is confirmed for two o’clock. Conference Room A is set up, and catering…”
“Cancel catering,” Alexis cut in, her voice even though her hands weren’t. “This isn’t a social call.”
There was a pause at the other end of the phone, “Understood, One more update, Hunter Grey won’t be alone. He’s bringing two consultants.”
Her mascara wand hovered midair. “Consultants?”
“Yes. They’re clearly taking this meeting seriously. Do you want me to prepare a broader brief?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, bracing herself.
Hunter, bringing consultants, was it strategy or a shield?
“No,” she said finally. “I’ll handle it.”
By the time she arrived at Cole Couture’s headquarters, she had forced herself back into her armor.
She would be ice and cold queen, this was business, not whatever it had been last night.
The morning was just about fabric approvals, design notes, and budget sign-offs.
Alexis worked with the kind of serious focus that made her staff whisper in corners, but it kept her sane.
It kept her from remembering how his voice had broken on her name in the dark.
At one-thirty, she retreated to her office, reviewing the contract one last time.
The Celestial Silk was everything, with it, her anniversary collection would cement her as a legend.
Without it… she couldn’t even let herself imagine.
Marcus’s knock was gentle. “They’re here.”
Her pulse spiked, but her voice didn’t waver. “Show them in. I’ll be there shortly.”
Three minutes later, Alexis walked into the conference room, every step measured.
Through the frosted glass she had already seen him, his broad shoulders, the posture she had memorized long ago.
She opened the door. “Gentlemen, thank you for…”
The words dissolved as Hunter looked up from his tablet and their eyes locked, and the air shifted.
He didn’t just see her, he recognized her, down to the secret hidden beneath her concealer.
His gaze flickered, almost imperceptibly, to her throat.
And just like that, he knew.
“Ms. Cole,” Hunter said smoothly, standing to shake her hand.
His touch was polite and professional but when their fingers brushed, heat shot straight through her arm, and she knew he felt it too.
“Mr. Grey.” Her voice was mercifully steady.
Shall we begin?" she asked, settling into her chair with practiced grace.
Hunter nodded, his expression carefully neutral.
"We've reviewed your initial request for the Celestial Silk. The quantity you're asking for is... substantial."
"It's a comprehensive collection. Twenty pieces for the runway, plus production runs for three different price points."
"That would require nearly our entire remaining stock."
Alexis leaned forward slightly. "Which is why we're prepared to offer premium pricing."
"Premium pricing for premium access," one of the consultants interjected. "We'll need exclusivity guarantees."
"Naturally." Alexis pulled up the contract terms on her tablet, hyper-aware of Hunter watching her every movement.
"Cole Couture is prepared to sign a five-year exclusive agreement for all Celestial Silk purchases."
She slid the tablet across the table.
Hunter reached for it at the same moment she did, their fingers overlapping on the device.
The contact lasted maybe two seconds, but it was enough to make her skin burn.
"Interesting terms," he said quietly, not looking at the screen.
"I think you'll find them more than fair."
Hunter kept his mask in place, but his eyes betrayed him.
Then came the problem.
“The dye process takes six months,” Hunter said, eyes never leaving hers. “Your launch is in three months.”
“That’s not possible. Other suppliers quoted two months.”
Hunter’s mouth curved faintly, not a smile, not exactly. “Every other textile house doesn't have access to the authentic formula."
His voice was calm, professional, but she heard something underneath, something that sounded almost like regret.
"The dye process can't be rushed without compromising the quality."
The room went still.
The consultants glanced between them, unaware of the second battle being fought across the table.
Alexis’s pulse pounded in her throat. “Then we have a problem.”
“Do we?” His voice was calm, but the meaning underneath was sharp.
They stared each other down, every unspoken word between them crowding the air.
“Perhaps," Hunter continued, "there's another solution, a smaller initial order, expedited delivery, with additional shipments following your launch."
Alexis shook her head. "The collection needs to be cohesive. I can't have half the pieces in Celestial Silk and half in substitutes."
"Even if those substitutes were nearly identical?"
"Nearly isn't good enough for Cole Couture."
Hunter leaned back in his chair, studying her with those eyes that had always seen too much.
"No, I suppose it wouldn't be, You never were one to accept anything less than perfection."
The comment was innocent enough on the surface, but the way he said it made her remember other conversations about perfection.
About how she demanded it from everyone around her but refused to accept it when he tried to give it to her.
About how her need to control everything had slowly suffocated what they had had together.
"Perfection is what my clients expect," she said carefully.
"And what about what you expect?"
One of the consultants was looking between them with obvious confusion, clearly sensing undercurrents he didn't understand.
Alexis forced herself to focus on the business at hand.
"I expect suppliers who can meet my deadlines."
"And I expect clients who understand the realities of craftsmanship."
They stared at each other across the table, the tension high.
Alexis was acutely aware of her heartbeat, of the way Hunter's jaw tightened when he was trying not to say something he would regret.
And then, her phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number lit up the screen
Interesting company you’re keeping. Hunter Grey has quite a past, doesn’t he?
Attached was a photo.
Their silhouettes through the frosted glass, heads bent close together.
Her stomach dropped.
Someone was watching.
“Everything alright?” Hunter’s voice cut through, softer now, searching her face.
She forced her features back into place. “Of course. Where were we?”
But her mind was racing.
Whoever was behind that message wasn’t just watching her, they were circling him too.
Hunter seemed to sense it. “Perhaps we should adjourn for now. Let everyone consider alternatives.”
Alexis nodded stiffly, grateful for the out. “My assistant will follow up.”
The consultants left but Hunter lingered.
“Alexis,” he said quietly, when they were alone. “What happened? You looked… haunted.
She wanted to tell him everything, the photo, the threat, the way last night had torn open scars she thought had healed.
Instead, she stepped past him. “This is business, Hunter. Nothing more.”
But he caught her arm, gently and steady.
His voice dropped, and for a moment she saw the man she had once loved, not the negotiator, not the enemy.
“That’s what you always said. Right up until everything fell apart.”
Her breath caught, but she pulled free. “Send your proposal by Friday.”
Hunter stood there, His eyes locked on hers, unreadable.
He stepped closer, close enough that her pulse betrayed her.
“I forgot something,” he said.
“What?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, his hand lifted, fingers brushing against the base of her throat, right over the faint mark he had left.
Concealer or not, he saw it, “I’ll always know it’s there,” he murmured. “Even if no one else can see it.”
And then he was gone, leaving her staring after him with her heart racing and the terrifying realization that her carefully controlled world was unraveling piece by piece.
Whatever reason that brought Henry back, she knew he would be the end of her.
- Writer
