Damien's POV

HR called me at 7 AM Monday morning, before Alex and I could schedule our disclosure meeting.

"Mr. Cross, we need to see you immediately. It's regarding a complaint filed Friday evening."

My blood ran cold. "What kind of complaint?"

"We'll discuss it in person. Please come to conference room B."

I texted Alex: "Don't come in yet. HR called. Someone already reported us."

His response was immediate: "On my way anyway."

"Alex, don't-"

"We do this together or not at all."

I wanted to argue, to protect him, but I knew he was right. Whatever was coming, we'd face it together.

Twenty minutes later, we sat across from Jennifer Chen, head of HR, and Marcus Webb, the company's legal counsel. The atmosphere was glacial.

"Mr. Cross, Mr. Parker." Jennifer opened a folder. "We received an anonymous complaint Friday at 5:47 PM alleging an undisclosed intimate relationship between you two. Is this accurate?"

I glanced at Alex. He nodded slightly.

"Yes," I said. "We were planning to disclose it this morning."

"Friday was three days ago," Marcus said. "How long has this relationship been ongoing?"

"Officially? Three weeks," Alex said. "But we met anonymously before that, not knowing we worked together."

Jennifer's eyebrow raised. "Anonymously?"

We explained again-the app, the conversations, the hotel room revelation. It sounded even more absurd in a corporate conference room.

"So you're telling me," Marcus said slowly, "that you two developed a relationship online, met in person, discovered you were CEO and employee, and then continued the relationship without disclosure?"

"That's correct," I said.

"For three weeks."

"Yes."

"During which time, Mr. Parker, you were assigned to lead the Vertex rebranding campaign. A position that reports directly to Mr. Cross."

Alex's jaw tightened. "I was assigned that position before we became involved."

"But you accepted it after," Jennifer said. "Knowing you were in a relationship with the person you'd be reporting to."

"I earned that position."

"I don't doubt your qualifications, Mr. Parker. But the optics are problematic." She pulled out another document. "We've also received complaints from other employees about favoritism. Late night meetings, closed-door sessions, preferential treatment."

"Those meetings were about the campaign," I said.

"Were they?" Marcus slid a printed email across the table. It was from my assistant, noting that I'd blocked out three hours last Tuesday for "Alex Parker-private discussion." "What was discussed in this private, three-hour meeting?"

I couldn't tell them the truth-that we'd spent two hours working and one hour arguing about whether to disclose our relationship. That would only confirm their suspicions.

"Campaign strategy," I said.

"For three hours? With just the two of you?"

"It was a complex discussion."

"I'm sure it was." Jennifer closed the folder. "Here's our situation. Company policy requires immediate disclosure of relationships between employees at different levels. You violated that policy for three weeks. During that time, Mr. Cross gave Mr. Parker a high-profile assignment, increased access, and preferential treatment that other employees noticed. Whether the relationship influenced those decisions is irrelevant-the appearance of impropriety is enough."

"What are you saying?" Alex asked.

"I'm saying we have three options." She counted on her fingers. "One: Mr. Cross resigns. Two: Mr. Parker resigns. Three: Mr. Parker is reassigned to a different department with no reporting relationship to Mr. Cross, and you both face formal reprimands that go in your permanent files."

"That's it?" I said. "Those are the only options?"

"Company policy is clear," Marcus said. "Relationships between supervisors and subordinates create liability. We have to protect the company."

"From what? Two people who care about each other?"

"From lawsuits, Mr. Cross. From claims of sexual harassment, hostile work environment, quid pro quo. Your relationship with Mr. Parker, regardless of how it started, creates exposure we can't ignore."

Alex stood up. "I'll resign."

"No." I grabbed his arm. "You're not sacrificing your career for this."

"Better than you sacrificing yours."

"Sit down," Jennifer said firmly. "Both of you. We're not finished."

We sat.

"There is a fourth option," she said carefully. "But it would require significant changes and complete transparency moving forward."

"What option?" I asked.

"Mr. Parker transfers to our New York office. Different location, different reporting structure, no conflict of interest. You maintain your relationship, but it's no longer a company liability because you're not working in the same office."

New York. Three thousand miles away.

"No," I said immediately.

"It's the only way you both keep your jobs and your relationship," Marcus said. "And frankly, it's generous considering the policy violations."

"How is separating us generous?"

"You violated company policy, Mr. Cross. Multiple policies, actually. Undisclosed relationship, preferential treatment, misuse of company resources for personal matters-those three-hour private meetings weren't free." He leaned forward. "We could terminate both of you for cause. No severance, no references. The New York transfer is a gift."

Alex was very quiet beside me. Too quiet.

"Can we discuss this privately?" I asked.

"You have until end of business today," Jennifer said. "After that, we make the decision for you."

They left us alone in the conference room.

"Don't say it," I said immediately.

"I have to take it."

"No, you don't. We'll figure something else out."

"Like what, Damien? You heard them. It's New York, resignation, or you lose everything you've built." He turned to face me. "Your grandmother's company, your brother's legacy-you can't throw that away for a three-week relationship."

"It's not just three weeks. You know that."

"Do I? Because right now it feels like three weeks of texting and a fantasy I convinced myself was real." His voice cracked. "Maybe they're right. Maybe this whole thing was just bad judgment from the start."

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" He stood up, pacing. "Think about it. We met anonymously, built something in a vacuum, then tried to force it to work in reality. Of course it fell apart. We were idiots to think otherwise."

"Alex-"

"I'll take the New York position. It's the smart choice."

"Smart for who?"

"For both of us. You keep your company, I advance my career, and we both move on like adults." He wouldn't look at me. "Long distance never works anyway."

"We haven't even tried."

"Because it's not worth trying!" He finally met my eyes. "I can't be the reason you lose everything, Damien. I won't be."

The door opened. Jennifer returned with papers.

"Have you made a decision?"

"Yes," Alex said before I could speak. "I'll take the New York transfer. When do I start?"

"Two weeks. We'll process the paperwork this afternoon."

"No," I said. "We're not doing this."

"It's already done." Alex signed the papers without hesitation. "Thank you for the opportunity."

Jennifer looked between us, her expression softening slightly. "I'm sorry it came to this. For what it's worth, I believe you about how the relationship started. But rules exist for a reason."

She left again.

"Alex-"

"I need to go pack up my desk." He stood. "And Damien? Don't make this harder than it already is."

He walked out, leaving me alone in the conference room with the signed transfer papers and the wreckage of whatever we'd been building.

I pulled out my phone and called Maya.

"He took the New York transfer," I said when she answered.

"Damn it. I was afraid of that."

"Talk to him. Make him see this is insane."

"Damien, he's trying to protect you."

"I don't need protection. I need him."

She was quiet for a moment. "Then you need to decide what you're willing to sacrifice to keep him. Because right now, he thinks the answer is nothing, and that's why he's leaving."

She hung up.

I sat there staring at those papers, feeling everything slip through my fingers, and realized she was right.

I had two weeks to prove Alex wrong.

Two weeks to show him I'd sacrifice everything if it meant keeping him.

Starting now.

Alex's POV

I lasted four hours at my desk before Maya dragged me into an empty office.

"You're an idiot," she said, slamming the door.

"Good morning to you too."

"Don't. You just signed away your relationship to protect a man who doesn't need protecting." She crossed her arms. "Did he ask you to take the transfer?"

"No."

"Did he want you to?"

"Of course not."

"Then why did you do it?"

I slumped into a chair. "Because someone had to make the rational decision. Damien would've thrown away his entire company for me."

"And that's bad because?"

"Because we've known each other for three weeks, Maya. Three weeks of real interaction. You don't destroy your life for three weeks."

"You're still doing that thing where you pretend this started three weeks ago." She sat across from me. "You talked to him for three months before you met. You knew him, Alex. Maybe not his name, but you knew him."

"That was different. That was fantasy."

"Was it? Because from where I'm sitting, you fell for him before you knew he was rich, before you knew he was your boss, before any of the complicated stuff. That's not fantasy. That's as real as it gets."

My phone buzzed. Damien: "Can we talk?"

I turned the phone face down.

"You're not even going to respond?" Maya asked.

"What's the point? I'm leaving in two weeks."

"The point is you're in love with him and you're running away because you're scared."

"I'm not-" I stopped. "I'm not in love with him."

"Really? Then why do you look like someone died?"

"Because my career just imploded, Maya. Because I'm being forced to move across the country. Because everything is falling apart."

"Your career is fine. You got a promotion and a transfer to New York. Most people would kill for that." She leaned forward. "You're upset because you're leaving him, and you're too stubborn to admit it matters."

Another text from Damien: "Please. Five minutes."

Then another: "I have a solution."

"He says he has a solution," I said.

"Then talk to him."

"There is no solution. HR was clear-it's the transfer or we both lose our jobs."

"Maybe he found a loophole."

"There is no loophole, Maya. This isn't a movie."

My phone rang. Damien calling.

"Answer it," Maya said.

"No."

"Fine. Then I will." She grabbed my phone and answered. "Hey, Damien. Yeah, he's here being stubborn. Uh-huh. Yep, that sounds like him. Sure, I'll tell him." She hung up. "He's coming here."

"What? No. Maya-"

"Too late. He's already in the elevator."

"I can't see him right now."

"Why not?"

"Because-" I couldn't find the words. Because seeing him would make this harder. Because I was barely holding it together as it was. Because if he looked at me the way he had in his apartment, I'd change my mind about everything.

"Because you're scared you'll realize you're making a mistake," Maya finished.

The door opened. Damien stood there in a full suit, looking like the CEO he was, but his eyes were desperate.

"Can we have the room?" he asked Maya.

She looked at me. I nodded.

"Five minutes," she said to Damien. "And if you hurt him, I'll destroy you. CEO or not."

"Noted."

She left. Damien closed the door and leaned against it.

"I quit," he said.

I blinked. "What?"

"I submitted my resignation an hour ago. Effective immediately."

"You did what?"

"Jennifer tried to reject it, but I own forty percent of the company. They can't stop me from resigning." He pulled out papers from his jacket. "I'm out. Which means there's no conflict of interest. You can stay, keep the campaign, keep your job."

I stared at him. "You quit your company."

"Yes."

"Your grandmother's company. Your brother's legacy."

"Yes."

"Are you insane?"

"Probably." He moved closer. "But I'm not losing you over corporate policy."

"Damien, you can't just-this is your entire life."

"No, it's my job. There's a difference." He sat down next to me. "My grandmother has six months, maybe less. Owen's been dead for two years. The company will survive without me. But I won't survive losing you."

My throat tightened. "You barely know me."

"I know you better than anyone I've ever met. I know you overthink everything. I know you're terrified of being vulnerable. I know you take your coffee black because you grew up poor and couldn't afford cream and sugar, and now it's just habit. I know you bite your thumbnail when you're nervous. I know you're brilliant and stubborn and completely infuriating." He took my hand. "And I know I'm in love with you."

"You said you liked me."

"I lied. I didn't want to scare you off." His thumb traced my knuckles. "But I'm done lying. I love you, Alex. I've loved you since you told me about your mom at three in the morning, before I knew your face or your name. And I'm not letting corporate policy or distance or fear take that away."

"This is crazy."

"I know."

"You'll regret it."

"I won't."

"Your grandmother will never forgive you."

"She'll understand." He pulled me closer. "My father spent his whole life building an empire and died alone in an office. Owen did the same thing. I'm not making that mistake. I'm choosing the person, not the position."

I wanted to argue, to list all the reasons this was a terrible decision. But I couldn't speak past the lump in my throat.

"Say something," Damien said quietly.

"I love you too," I whispered. "I've been trying not to, but I do."

He kissed me then, soft and desperate and perfect.

My phone buzzed. Maya: "HR wants to see both of you. Now."

We pulled apart.

"Round two," Damien said.

"You know they're not going to just let you quit."

"Probably not." He stood, offering his hand. "But they can't force me to stay either."

We walked to HR together. Jennifer and Marcus were waiting, along with someone I didn't recognize-an older woman in an expensive suit.

"Mr. Cross," the woman said. "I'm Catherine Walsh, board representative. We received your resignation."

"And?" Damien said.

"And we're rejecting it. Your contract has a six-month notice period for executive departures. You can't just walk away."

"Watch me."

"If you violate your contract, you forfeit your shares. All of them." Catherine slid papers across the table. "Forty percent of the company, gone. Is Mr. Parker worth forty million dollars?"

Damien didn't hesitate. "Yes."

I grabbed his arm. "Damien, wait-"

"We have a counteroffer," Catherine continued. "You stay as CEO. Mr. Parker takes the New York position as planned. After one year, if the relationship is still ongoing, we'll reconsider the arrangement. If you can maintain professionalism for twelve months, we'll bring Mr. Parker back to Austin with no conflicts."

"One year?" I said.

"It's a test," Marcus explained. "Prove the relationship is serious, prove you can maintain professional boundaries, and we'll accommodate it."

Damien looked at me. "Your choice."

"My choice?"

"I already told you what I want. I want you, here, now. But if you need the year to be sure, if you need the distance to figure out if this is real, I'll wait."

"You'd really forfeit forty million dollars?"

"Without question."

Catherine cleared her throat. "Mr. Parker, we're also prepared to offer you a significant raise with the New York position. Twenty percent increase, full relocation package, and a guarantee that your current project stays with you remotely. You'd still lead the Vertex campaign, just from New York."

That was more money than I'd ever imagined making. And I'd still have the campaign, still have my career trajectory intact.

"What happens if we don't make it the full year?" I asked.

"Then Mr. Cross remains CEO, you remain in New York, and everyone moves on professionally," Jennifer said.

"And if we do make it?"

"Then we bring you back, reassign reporting structures, and accommodate the relationship within policy guidelines."

It was a test. They were testing whether we were serious or just caught up in the excitement of something forbidden.

"I need to think about it," I said.

"You have until tomorrow," Catherine said. "After that, Mr. Cross's resignation stands, and he forfeits his shares."

We left the conference room in silence.

"What are you thinking?" Damien asked when we were alone.

"I'm thinking this is insane. All of it."

"Agreed."

"I'm thinking one year is a long time."

"It is."

"I'm thinking long distance never works."

"Statistically, no."

"But I'm also thinking-" I turned to face him. "I'm thinking maybe it's worth trying. Maybe we're worth trying."

He pulled me into an empty office and kissed me hard.

"Is that a yes to New York?" he asked.

"It's a yes to one year. A yes to seeing if this is real." I kissed him back. "And then, if we make it, you're never letting me go."

"Deal," he said. "Best deal I've ever made."

My phone buzzed. Maya: "Well? Do I need to start looking for jobs in New York or what?"

I smiled and typed back: "Start looking. But just for visits. I'm coming back in a year."

"Confident," Damien said, reading over my shoulder.

"You told them I was worth forty million dollars. Least I can do is prove you right."

He laughed, and for the first time since that HR meeting, I felt like maybe we'd actually survive this.

One year. We could do one year.

We had to.