Updated Nov 25, 2025 • ~9 min read
Her name was Damarise Bowers.
She walked into Leander’s office Wednesday afternoon like she owned it. Maybe she had, once. Before me.
I was there filming B-roll for the documentary when she arrived. Tall. Elegant. Everything I wasn’t.
“Leander, darling.” She kissed both his cheeks. European style. Intimate.
He tensed. “Damarise. What are you doing here?”
“I heard about your little reality TV disaster. Thought I’d check on you.” Her eyes slid to me. “And this must be the wedding crasher. How charming.”
“Morgana,” I said. Not offering my hand.
“Of course. The one who convinced Leander to throw away his reputation for love.” She said it like a joke. Like love was naive.
“I didn’t convince him of anything. He made his own choices.”
“Did he? Because the Leander I knew would never sacrifice business for romance. Makes me wonder what you’re really after.”
“Damarise,” Leander’s voice held warning. “Morgana is my fiancée. Show respect.”
“Fiancée. How fast things move. Though I suppose when you start with a fake engagement, the timelines are flexible.”
She knew. Of course she knew. Everyone knew now.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“To help, actually. I heard about the takeover attempt. Nasty business. I have shares in CorkTech. Enough to swing the vote. Thought Leander might want to discuss… terms.”
She was blackmailing him. Offering help with conditions.
“What kind of terms?” Leander asked. Voice carefully neutral.
“Dinner. Tonight. Just us. Like old times. Then we discuss business.”
“I don’t think—” I started.
“Perfect,” Leander said. “Seven o’clock. I’ll make reservations.”
After Damarise left, I stared at him. “You’re actually going?”
“She has ten percent of voting shares. I need those shares to block the takeover.”
“So you’re going to have dinner with your ex-girlfriend?”
“I’m going to have a business meeting with a shareholder.”
“That’s not what she offered. She offered ‘like old times.’ That’s not business.”
“I can handle Damarise.”
“Can you? Because she walked in here acting like you were still hers.”
“She’s possessive. Always has been. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means she wants you back. And she has leverage.”
“I don’t want her back. I want you.”
“Then take me to dinner. Make it clear we’re a united front.”
“This is business—”
“This is a trap! She’s going to use dinner to manipulate you!”
“I’m not a child, Morgana. I can have dinner with an ex without compromising our relationship.”
“Fine. Go. But don’t be surprised when she asks for more than just share votes.”
He left looking frustrated. I stayed looking furious.
Atkins called. “I heard yelling. What happened?”
I filled her in.
“He’s going to dinner with a gorgeous ex who has leverage over his company? Morgana, you need to crash that dinner.”
“I’m not crashing another—”
“You absolutely are. Because Damarise isn’t there for business. She’s there to win him back. And if you let her have an entire evening alone with him, she might succeed.”
She had a point.
That evening, I dressed for battle. Red dress. High heels. Confidence I didn’t entirely feel.
The restaurant was Alinea. Of course. Where everything expensive happened.
I walked in. Found them at a corner table. Damarise laughing at something. Leander looking uncomfortable but polite.
I approached. “Sorry I’m late.”
Leander looked up. Surprise. Relief? “Morgana. What are you doing here?”
“Joining my fiancé for dinner. Hope that’s okay?”
Damarise’s smile went sharp. “How presumptuous. This was a private business meeting.”
“And I’m Leander’s partner. In business and life. So if you’re discussing company votes, I should be here.”
I sat. Uninvited. Unbothered.
Leander looked between us. Tension crackling.
“Well,” Damarise said. “This should be interesting.”
Dinner was warfare disguised as small talk.
“So Morgana,” Damarise said, sipping wine. “How does it feel dating someone so far outside your tax bracket? Must be overwhelming.”
“Not really. Leander’s money is the least interesting thing about him.”
“How refreshing. Though I notice you’re living in his penthouse. Wearing designer clothes. Using his resources. For someone not interested in money, you’re certainly enjoying the benefits.”
“I’m enjoying my fiancé’s company. The penthouse is just location.”
“Of course. And the engagement ring? Leander’s grandmother’s ring, I heard. Sentimental. Though I always wondered why he kept it instead of offering it to me. Now I know—he was waiting for someone desperate enough to accept it.”
“Damarise,” Leander warned.
“I’m just being honest. You always valued honesty.”
“Honesty and cruelty aren’t the same thing.”
“Aren’t they? You were always honest about what you wanted. Power. Success. Legacy. Morgana seems nice, but can she actually help you achieve those things? Or is she just pretty baggage?”
I leaned forward. “You want honest? Fine. You’re here because you have shares Leander needs. You’re using that leverage to try to rekindle something that ended for good reason. And you’re threatened by me because I represent something you could never be—genuine. He chose reality with me over performance with you. That’s got to hurt.”
Her eyes flashed. “You think you know him? You’ve been together three months. I dated him for two years. I know every scar, every fear, every weakness.”
“Then why did he leave you?”
Silence. Sharp. Cutting.
“We agreed it was time,” Damarise said stiffly.
“That’s not what Leander told me. He said you gave him an ultimatum—marry you or you’d leave. He chose his company. You left.”
Leander’s hand found mine under the table. Squeezed.
Damarise’s polished composure cracked. “That’s not—he told you that?”
“He tells me everything. That’s what real partners do.”
“Fine. You want truth? Here it is.” She pulled out her phone. Showed a document. “I’m not just offering to vote my shares with Leander. I’m offering to merge Bowers Industries with CorkTech. Full merger. Fourteen billion dollar deal. It would make him untouchable. No more takeover threats. Total security.”
“At what cost?” I asked.
“He comes back to me. We get married. The merger becomes personal and professional. He gets everything he wants. And you—” Her smile was poison. “—get a generous settlement for your trouble.”
I looked at Leander. “Tell me she’s joking.”
His face was carefully blank. “She made that offer this afternoon. Before you arrived.”
“And?”
“I’m considering it.”
My heart stopped. “You’re considering it?”
“It’s fourteen billion, Morgana. It saves the company. Secures everything I’ve built.”
“At the cost of us.”
“At the cost of a relationship that’s barely three months old and started with lies.”
The words hit like physical blows.
“I’m going to give you two a moment,” Damarise said sweetly. “Think it over, Leander. My offer expires tomorrow.”
She left.
We sat in silence. The restaurant buzzing around us.
“Tell me you’re not seriously considering this,” I said.
“I have to consider it. The company is everything. It’s my legacy. My life’s work.”
“And I’m what? A distraction?”
“You’re someone I care about. But Morgana, be realistic. We’ve known each other three months. We started as a business arrangement. Maybe Damarise is right. Maybe we’re confusing real feelings with the intensity of the situation.”
“Do you actually believe that?”
He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”
“Yes you do. You’re just too scared to choose it.”
“That’s not fair—”
“Neither is pretending you might sell us out for a business deal! Either I matter or I don’t. Either what we have is real or it’s not. You don’t get to hedge your bets!”
“This is fourteen billion dollars—”
“I don’t care if it’s a trillion dollars! You told me you loved me! You proposed for real! Now you’re considering marrying your ex because she has better quarterly projections?”
“That’s reductive—”
“That’s honest!” I stood. “You have twenty-four hours to decide. Choose the merger and money. Or choose me and risk. But make a choice. Because I’m done being your maybe.”
I left. Walked out of Alinea with my dignity barely intact.
At home—his home, always his—I packed my things.
My phone rang. Leander.
I didn’t answer.
A text: Please don’t leave. Let’s talk about this.
There’s nothing to talk about. You’re considering selling us for money. That tells me everything.
It’s not that simple—
It actually is. You either love me enough to choose me. Or you don’t. And we both know which it is.
He didn’t respond.
I finished packing. Called a car. Was loading boxes when he walked in.
“Don’t go.”
“Give me a reason to stay that isn’t strategy or convenience or hedged bets.”
“I love you.”
“Do you? Or do you love the idea of me? The woman who makes you feel better about yourself while you make calculated business decisions?”
“That’s not fair—”
“You’re considering marrying Damarise! What part of that is fair?”
“I haven’t decided anything!”
“The fact that you’re still deciding is the problem! When someone offers to buy you away from your partner, the answer is immediate no. Not ‘let me think about it.'”
He ran hands through his hair. Frustrated. Lost. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to choose me. Not because it’s strategic. Not because I’m convenient. But because you actually want me more than fourteen billion dollars.”
“That’s not reasonable—”
“Love isn’t reasonable! It’s choosing someone even when it costs you! It’s putting them first even when it’s stupid! It’s—” My voice broke. “It’s what I’ve been doing since I met you. And I need you to do it back.”
“I’m trying—”
“No. You’re calculating. That’s different.”
I grabbed my last bag. “I’ll be at Atkins’. When you decide what matters more—money or me—let me know. Until then, I’m done being your provisional choice.”
“Morgana—”
“Goodbye, Leander.”
I left.
Walked out of the penthouse. Out of his life. Out of the possibility that maybe he’d actually choose me.
Because some risks weren’t worth taking.
And loving someone who might sell you for a good quarterly return?
That was the biggest risk of all.
I cried in the Uber. At Atkins’ place. For hours after.
Because I’d fallen in love with a man who valued companies over connection.
And that love? That was the one lie I’d told myself was true.
My phone buzzed. Leander.
I love you. But I need time to think.
I didn’t respond.
Because if he needed time to choose me over money?
He’d already made his choice.
And I deserved better than being someone’s business decision.
Even if it broke my heart to walk away.
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