Chapter 24
May 30, 2025
Celene’s POV…
It’s too hard to believe Rhys because he discarded me once. But here I am, letting him place a folder on my desk. “Here. The proof of everything.”
I stared at it. Then at him. “Why hand me the evidence?”
Rhys smiled bitterly. “Because I know what it’s like to be framed by people who swore they had your back. And because I won’t let them do to you what they almost did to me.”
I didn’t speak. Just opened the folder with shaking hands. Timestamps. Email chains. Metadata. Three different fingerprints embedded into a single document. One trace led to Vanessa’s system alias. Another to Lydia’s board proxy. A third, Warren Cain. They built this. Together. And now I could tear it down.
I looked up. “Where did you get all this?”
“I dug,” Rhys said. “Old server scraps. Discarded memos. Pieces they didn’t bother to hide well enough.”
“And why bring it to me?” My voice came out harder than I meant. “What do you want… redemption?”
He didn’t blink. “I couldn’t stop them from ruining me. But I’m not gonna stand here and let them destroy you too.” There was something so hollow in his voice, I couldn’t tell if it was rage or regret anymore.
“No. Don’t trust this guy, Celene,” Damon snapped.
“Are you really going to believe this?” he growled. “After everything he pulled? What? He brings a folder and suddenly we’re trusting him with national security?”
Rhys crossed his arms. “I’m not here for you.”
“Good,” Damon shot back, “because I don’t trust you as far as I can throw your mother.”
“Both of you, shut up,” I snapped. They did. Miracle.
I turned to Damon first. “This isn’t about you. Or him. Or who screwed who over five board meetings ago.” I pointed at the laptop. “This is evidence. Real. Undeniable. It gives us everything we need.” He looked like he wanted to argue. Wanted to drag Rhys across the office floor. But he just stepped back. Arms tense. Jaw tighter.
“This doesn’t mean I trust him,” he muttered.
“Good,” I said. “Because I don’t either. I trust proof.”
The three of us stood there in tense silence. Me, the ex-husband who wrecked me, the man who might love me, and the woman who had just been framed for corporate fraud. I sat down slowly, fingers poised over the keyboard, staring at everything they tried to hide from me. The lies. The setup. The mess. It was all right here.
And tomorrow? The truth was going to hit harder than any scandal they’d tried to bury me with. I loaded the files into my drive, backed it up twice, then shut the laptop.
“We end this tomorrow,” I said.
***
After planning everything, I asked Rhys to leave. He did, finally. The door clicked shut behind him. Silence followed. Damon didn’t move, neither did I.
His jaw was locked, arms folded like he was trying not to shatter something against the glass. I bit my lower lip, suppressing a smirk. My foot stretched out under the desk, just enough to brush against his ankle. Then his shin. Then the inside of his thigh.
“What?” I said, innocent as sin.
He leaned back in the chair, scowling. “Why do you always poke the bear?”
“Why do you always look so upset?” I teased, letting my heel drag higher between his legs.
He glared. “Because you let him in. Again. What, are you allies now?”
I laughed softly. Then I stood. Walked over. Sat down on his lap without asking. He tensed.
But he didn’t stop me.
“I didn’t say I was on his side,” I whispered, fingers sliding over the back of his neck. “I just didn’t feel like babysitting your jealousy.”
“I’m not jealous.”
I leaned closer, lips brushing his. “Liar.”
He snapped. His hands gripped my waist and shoved the chair back from the desk. Before I could blink, I was on the floor, my back against the carpet, my dress shoved above my thighs and his mouth crashing into mine.
“You want to play games?” he growled against my lips. “Let’s play.”
He yanked my panties down and stuffed them into his pocket without even breaking eye contact. Then he shoved my legs apart, dropped to his knees, and buried his face between them.
“Fuck- Damon-” My head hit the carpet as his tongue dragged through my pussy with devastating purpose. Slow, then fast. His fingers dug into my thighs as he devoured me like punishment.
“Still think I’m jealous?” he said, licking a slow circle around my clit. “Because I am. And I’m going to make you forget he ever existed.” He sucked, hard, and I arched off the floor, gasping.
I reached down to pull him up, but he slapped my hand away. “Not until you come on my tongue.” And I did. Fast, loud, and shaking. He didn’t even wait for me to recover. He unzipped and slammed into me in one rough thrust, knocking the breath out of my lungs.
“Mine,” he growled in my ear, fucking me hard enough the desk shook nearby. “You sit on my lap, tease me like that, act like you don’t care, this is what you get.”
I moaned, wrapping my legs around him. “I wanted this.”
He kissed me again, messy, biting my lips. “Yeah. You wanted me to lose control, didn’t you?”
“Always.” He drove into me, harder, deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing off the office walls.
“You let him in,” he muttered, “but I’m the one who gets to fuck the truth out of you.”
“Damon, fuck- don’t stop-” He didn’t. He grabbed the back of my neck, kissed me like he wanted to swallow my breath, and fucked me until I was nothing but heat and gasps and soaked skin. We came seconds apart. His cock jerked deep inside me, thick spurts of cum filling me as I came with a strangled cry beneath him. We stayed there, breathing. Sweaty. Sprawled on the floor of a corporate war zone.
“I’m still pissed,” he said, voice hoarse.
I smiled lazily. “You fuck like you are.”
