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Chapter 17 — Not Done.
publish date:
2026-05-30 18:10:17
Latest chapter
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 50 — The Line Is Gone
-POV Derby Derby stood by the window, her knuckles white as she gripped the fabric of her skirt, refusing to look at the man who had just dismantled the final remnants of her composure. Jordan hadn’t moved from the door. He didn't need to. His presence alone seemed to occupy every cubic inch of the space, pinning her in place. The casual, detached mask he usually wore was gone, replaced by something much more dangerous—a raw, unfiltered focus that made her skin prickle. "You're not answering," he repeated, his voice low and devoid of the polished veneer he saved for investors and the press. It was just the two of them, and for the first time, he sounded like a man who had finally run out of patience. Derby forced a swallow past the lump in her throat, her gaze still fixed on the horizon, not the man she’d spent the last few weeks trying to convince herself was a mistake. "Because there’s nothing left to say, Jordan. We crossed the line. Again. And we both know exactly what that ma
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 49 — He Doesn’t Let It Go
-POV Derby Silence in the room wasn't empty; it was heavy, pressing against Derby’s chest until every breath felt like a conscious effort. Jordan stood just a few feet away, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him, but the distance between them felt like a canyon. He hadn’t moved when she tried to pull away. His grip on her wrist remained firm—not bruising, but immovable. It was a silent assertion of his presence, a refusal to let her frame this as a fleeting moment that meant nothing. Derby kept her gaze fixed on the sharp line of his collarbone, refusing to meet his eyes. If she looked at him, she knew the resolve she had spent the last hour meticulously building would crumble. She felt the ghost of his touch where he held her, a sensory anchor that made it impossible to pretend she was anywhere else. "You're not answering," he said. His voice was low, stripped of any polite veneer, vibrating with a raw, demanding edge. "There’s nothing to answer, Jordan,"
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 48 — Almost Confession
-POV Derby Breathing was a luxury I couldn't quite afford as we broke apart. My forehead rested against his, both of us heaving in the quiet, climate-controlled air of the office. The storm outside had slowed to a rhythmic tapping against the glass, an indifferent backdrop to the wreckage we were making of the room—and each other. Jordan’s hands were still locked firmly onto my waist, his thumbs digging into the fabric of my blazer as if he were trying to memorize the exact shape of me. His eyes were dark, dilated, searching my face with a terrifyingly naked need that I hadn't expected to see on a man like him. "Derby," he murmured, his voice sounding raw, like he’d been shouting in a desert. I couldn't look away. My pulse was a frantic bird against the cage of my ribs. Everything I’d been holding back for the last few months—the late nights, the jealousy, the slow, agonizing realization that I was falling for a ghost of a man who belonged to someone else—it all felt like it was
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 47 - Don’t Look at Me Like That
-POV Derby Rain still hammered against the glass, but inside the suite, the air felt like it was ionizing, crackling with a static charge that made the hair on my arms stand up. Jordan hadn't moved his hands. They remained framed against my jaw, his palms warm and grounding, holding me in place while my heart hammered against my ribs like a caged bird. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice dropping to that low, raspy register that bypassed my brain and went straight to my nerves. I kept my eyes fixed on his throat, on the pulse point that was beating in time with mine. "I can't." Jordan said "Why?" "Because if I look at you," I whispered, the words catching on a jagged breath, "I’ll forget why I’m supposed to be angry. I’ll forget that you’re someone else’s future. I’ll forget that this room is just a temporary shelter for a mistake." He shifted, his fingers sliding into my hair, tugging gently until I was forced to tilt my head back. His eyes were dark, devoid of the cold, prof
One Night, Wrong Man Chaoter 46 — You Still Came Back
-POV DerbyRain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling glass of the forty-second-floor suite, turning the city lights into a blurred, weeping mess of neon. Standing in the center of the dark room, I stared at the reflection of the office in the window. The space felt colder tonight, or maybe that was just the hollow ache that had settled in my chest since the media brief in the courtyard.My bags were packed. They were sitting by the service elevator in my apartment, a half-finished resignation letter waiting on my laptop. I had come here to give him the final audit logs—the last of the data, the last of the project, the last of the excuses."You’re late," Jordan said.He wasn't sitting at his desk. He was standing by the heavy mahogany door, his coat damp, his hair slightly messed up by the wind. He hadn't turned the main lights on, leaving us in the dim, amber glow of the emergency exit signs and the flickering city below."I don't need to be on time anymore," I replied, my voice stea
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 45 — Jealous, This Time It Hurts
-POV Derby The glass corridor connecting the main office tower to the Grand Horizon executive pavilion always felt like walking through a greenhouse. By three in the afternoon, the sun hit the panes directly, throwing sharp, blinding squares of light across the polished concrete floor. It was hot, bright, and completely packed with corporate managers heading toward the weekend closing sessions. I walked with a heavy plastic crate clamped under my arms, filled with the final printed copies of the third-quarter integration audits. My shoulder muscles were tight, aching from a long day of data entry, but the skin on the back of my neck felt entirely different. It still carried that quiet, lingering memory of his fingers from last night—the slow, heavy warmth of his palm holding me against the leather sofa while the tower slept. *Derby.* He had whispered my name like it was an anchor, like he actually needed the glitch to survive the machine his father had built for him. I’d let mysel
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 37 — You’re Mine (Without Saying It)
-POV Derby The logistics seminar in the main hall was turning into an absolute nightmare by eleven-thirty. The air conditioning in the pavilion was struggling against the heat of a hundred people packed into the tiered seating rows, and the volume in the room had escalated from a polite corporate
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 31 — The Question
-POV Derby The thing about old money is that it doesn’t scream. It whispers. It takes its time, sits back in a leather-bound chair, and lets the silence do the heavy lifting. Up on the forty-second floor, the chaos of the afternoon integration brief had finally cleared out. The heavy mahogany doo
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 30 — Tamara Notices
-POV DerbyThe afternoon integration brief didn't happen in a cramped office suite. It happened in the glass-walled VIP lounge overlooking the main atrium, a space designed specifically to make lower-level employees feel like ants while the top-tier executives decided their fates over espresso.I
One Night, Wrong Man Chapter 29 — But I Do
-POV DerbyHis words hung in the cramped space of the service corridor like a physical weight, pressing the oxygen straight out of my lungs.*Who you belong to in the dark.*I hated the word. *Belong.* It sounded heavy, archaic, and terrifyingly permanent. It sounded like something a man like Jord
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