In a corner office of a downtown skyscraper, Lucien Calloway sat at his desk and stared down at the text message he had just received. It was from his ex: I need to speak with you. Can we meet at the club tonight?

Lucien dragged in a deep breath before letting it out. What more could Jax have to say after their last conversation? When he had looked at Lucien with simmering anger and resentment and said “I hope you die alone.” Jax had walked out of the apartment after that, slamming the door behind him. It had been over a month, and the parting sentiment still rang through Lucien’s mind.

However, Jax always had a way of getting what he wanted. And Lucien was admittedly curious. He typed out his reply: 10:00.

Lucien set his phone down on the desk and leaned back in his chair. Turning it around, Lucien gazed out the windows. He had a nice view of the blue lake peeking through the surrounding buildings. The early afternoon sun hit the water at a glint, almost making it seem like summer instead of the chilly autumn day it was.

The Calloway family owned the entire building, and the perks of being a scion of such a family meant corner offices with spectacular views—not that he didn’t work hard for it.

The floor to ceiling windows let in ample natural lighting that worked well with the clean lines and light neutral colors Lucien had chosen. Minimalist and sophisticated, rather than showing off an impressive office, the space was designed to highlight Lucien’s work, the blueprints and models on full display.

Lucien’s phone buzzed, and he let it sit on his desk.

His thoughts turned to the club, Obsidian, or rather, its underground counterpart, Red Obsidian. Lucien hadn’t been there since before he and Jax had dissolved their contract. And he did miss the place.

He pulled back up to his desk and read Jax’s text: See you then.

Lucien hadn’t been intentionally avoiding the club, and it wasn’t only because of Jax. Lucien had mourned the loss of that relationship long before it had officially ended. It was work that had kept him busy.

In the middle of Lucien’s office, a model building rose from a platform. It was a recent project for Calloway Design—Lucien’s architect and engineering firm, a newer branch of his family’s company.

Lucien’s grandfather founded LeeCalloway just over fifty years ago. It began as a manufacturer and distributor of construction and building materials, then with Lucien’s father, it moved into actual site construction. And Lucien brought it further with design. From a building’s initial conception to its completion, and even the materials used in its construction, it could all be handled by the Calloway family.

Lucien’s newest model boasted a daring design, playing with classic lines while maintaining elegance. The client was very enthusiastic about it.

His phone went off again: I’ve missed you, sir.

Lucien furrowed his brow, looking at the text. He hadn’t expected this of Jax. As angry as Jax had been when they parted, they’d both known the relationship wasn’t working.

Did Jax want to get back together?

A soft but clear knock on the door announced Lucien’s ever-so-punctual administrative assistant. He hurriedly turned off the phone screen and flipped it over as Ms. Abigail Williams entered the office. Always impeccably dressed and her hair done up tight with not a strand out of place, she was the picture of put-together and no-nonsense.

“Afternoon, Mr. Calloway. Your one o’clock is here waiting in conference room two. Refreshments have been offered. Here,” she said, holding out a thin, leather-bound folder, “some samples they might be interested in.”

“Thank you, Ms. Williams.” Lucien took the folder.

She narrowed her eyes at Lucien. Nothing got past Abigail, which made her exceptional as his assistant, but also far too informed on his overall state of being. But, as it was time for business, Abigail was nothing if not professional and didn’t ask. She would save the questions for later.

“Do you need a minute? I can give them the samples to look over.”

“No, I’m ready.”

Lucien stood, did up the buttons on his suit jacket, cleared his mind of Jax and the club, and left to impress his future clients.

He walked with Abigail through the open floor plan of his office suite. His employees were hard at work at desk stations or drafting tables. He liked the open flow, and had designed it that way to encourage the sharing of ideas, creativity, and inspiration. Even the wall separating his office was all glass—not to watch over everything like big brother, but to stay accessible and connected.

Some people talked as they worked, others needed silence at certain stages of their processes—for which they had options, like headphones or temporary private spaces. His employees were each individuals, but all were valuable members of the Calloway Design team.

Lucien stopped at conference room two, through the glass he could see the two owners of a unique and popular tea shop, talking excitedly and going over their materials. They were looking to open up a second location, and rather than a new build, they wanted to remodel an existing storefront in a prime downtown location.

Lucien walked in with a charming smile and began laying out how he and his team were going to help make their dream of expansion and growth come true. By the time the tea shop owners left, their eyes were alight with unfolding plans and anticipation, and they had signed a contract, making Calloway Design a part of that.

Returning to his office, Lucien’s head was already thinking in blueprints and schematics, and his palm itched to hold a pencil. He sat down at his drafting table and got to work freeing all those ideas.

A few hours later, Lucien poked his head over the tilted table top and looked out the window. The city was already beginning to shine against the darkening indigo sky. And evening’s too- sudden arrival brought Jax and the club back into the forefront of Lucien’s mind.

Abigail knocked and let herself in. “It’s almost five o’clock, sir,” she said as Lucien turned on the stool to face her. “Are we working overtime tonight?”

“No. Everyone can go home,” he said, putting his pencil down on the table’s ledge.

“And you?”

“I’d like to finish up the seating area.”

That leveled gaze of Abigail’s was not convinced. It wasn’t unusual for Lucien to stay after his employees had left. But Abigail hadn’t forgotten earlier, and as shrewd as she was, she put two and two together.

“Lucien, I haven’t seen that unsettled look on your face in about a month,” she said, leaning against his desk and crossing her arms.

Lucien and Abigail had worked closely together for years. They had a perfect, professional working relationship, and they were also very good friends.

He ran his hand through his dark blond hair, slightly mussing the neat style that always took time to achieve in the mornings. Lucien didn’t bother denying it. “Jax texted me.”

Abigail’s expression soured—a look she hadn’t made in about a month. “I wondered how long it would take him.”

“To text me?”

“To try and get you back.”

“He wasn’t happy with me,” Lucien said, remembering the distance, the coldness, that had developed between them.

“He wasn’t looking for happiness with you.”

Lucien blinked. Why would someone want to be in a relationship that didn’t make them happy? Abigail had never been this candid about Jax before. He knew she never cared for him, but she had never shared why.

“He wouldn’t be after my money. His family is wealthier than mine,” Lucien said.

Abigail slowly shook her head in a way that called him naïve without having to say it. Regarding matters of the heart, Lucien fully owned his romantic idealism. He knew what he wanted, and his plans didn’t include settling.

“Mmhm,” she agreed, as if that proved her point and made it all so clear for Lucien. It didn’t, but Abigail wouldn’t elaborate. She enjoyed standing back and watching Lucien struggle as he figured things out for himself.

“So, are you seeing him?” Abigail asked.

“Tonight,” Lucien said. Abigail raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, and Lucien continued before he felt her judgment. “I’ll hear what he has to say. It could be an apology. But I have no intention of getting back together.”

She smiled and lifted away from the desk. “I’m not worried, Lucien. I know that hopelessly romantic heart of yours wouldn’t be content with someone like Jax, even if it took you a year to realize it.”

“Hey, it’s not so hopeless,” Lucien said, determined to believe it was true.

Abigail looked back at him as she headed for the door. “If anyone is persistent enough to hold out for their happily ever after, it’s you. Have a good night, Mr. Calloway.”

“See you on Monday, Ms. Williams.”

Abigail closed the office door behind her, and Lucien frowned, looking down at his hands marked with graphite and eraser shavings. A year was how long he and Jax had been together. The relationship shouldn’t have lasted that long, but those things are easier to see when looking back from the outside.

Jaxton Lancaster should have been the perfect match. He was driven and successful, intelligent, beautiful, from an established and well-connected family, and he was a member of Red Obsidian as a submissive.

Because Jax fit so tidily into Lucien’s life plan, he had suppressed the slowly growing feeling that they weren’t right for each other.

Lucien swiveled back around to his drafting table and picked up the pencil. He had time to finish up the schematic design before heading to Obsidian. He drew a line for a partition wall, then he erased it. The line was much darker than the rest. Lucien put the pencil back down and flexed the tension from his hand, Jax’s last words sliding into his mind and colliding with Abigail’s talk of “happily ever after.”

Everything else in Lucien’s life had gone precisely as he had planned it. At thirty-three years old, after achieving what he’d set out to achieve—his career and wealth independent of his family’s—Lucien was ready to settle down. He didn’t plan on dying alone.