Damian's Seduction (The Steamy Billionaire Series: Book 1)

Chapter 1: Unexpected Encounters

Now

"Unbelievable," Chloe Carter muttered, her voice a wisp against the clamor of Lester Harbor's crowded streets.

She balanced the heavy box on her hip, her steps tapping out a staccato rhythm on the pavement. The late afternoon sun stretched long shadows of hurried strangers across the street while her perfectly tailored gray dress whispered with each stride, hugging her curves like a secret.

Long, jet-black hair—a nod to her Chinese heritage—cascaded over her shoulders, the strands slightly mussed from a day that had been more disaster than delight. Her dark eyes, stormy and sharp, flicked toward a tall, athletic man in the distance. Handsome, arrogant, and familiar.

No, it couldn't be. 

Chloe shook her head, dispelling the thought. It had been years since that particular brand of trouble had torpedoed her life. A charming rogue who promised her the world and delivered nothing but heartbreak. It was just a trick of the light. The man disappearing into the crowd couldn't be him. 

Could it?

Distracted, she let the box slip out of her grasp, tilting dangerously.

"Oh, come on!" she hissed, juggling the weight awkwardly. The bustling street paid her no mind as if the city itself conspired to test her patience.

Each step hammered a reminder into her feet, the flimsy cushion of her ballet flats offering little reprieve. The box—an unwelcome souvenir of her plummet from corporate grace—grew heavier with each step. Today, it seemed, the universe was intent on breaking her spirit.

"Oof!" The sound escaped her lips as she collided with something—or rather, someone—solid as a brick wall. The ground rushed up to meet her, hard and unforgiving.

Her belongings lay scattered across the sidewalk, a messy metaphor for her current life. She glanced up, and her heart gave an involuntary jolt—not just from the fall but from the pair of mischievous green eyes that haunted her dreams more than she'd ever admit.

Oh, hell. The man crouching beside her was none other than the devil in a designer suit—Lester Harbor's golden-haired playboy billionaire, heir to the Scott-Quinn empire.

Prince Fucking Charming. And he was still full of shit.

***

Damian Scott, a vision of effortless power in his tailored suit—sans tie—strode out of the Lester Harbor Riverside building, his gaze locked on the sleek promise of his black Lamborghini waiting at the curb.

He was already late for dinner at the Riviera, the city's most exclusive restaurant. But something in the air stopped him—a delicate scent, floral with a twist of mandarin, that stirred memories he'd buried deep.

Then, chaos erupted.

Chloe's world spilled at his feet, office supplies scattering across the sidewalk in a messy tangle of her past and present. Damian knelt beside her, their hands brushing as they both reached for a runaway stapler.

"Here, let me help," he offered, his baritone voice threaded with concern. His bright eyes caught hers—a flash of recognition and something else, something dangerously close to nostalgia.

"Don't bother. I've got it," Chloe snapped, heat rising to her cheeks as she scrambled to gather her life off the pavement.

Did he even remember who she was?

Her heart stuttered, memories crashing over her—late nights in dorm rooms, whispered secrets, the intoxicating pull of first love, and how he shattered it like fragile glass. She scoffed. "Damian. You don't even recognize me, do you?"