The first stone hit the glass door with a sharp, sickening crack.

Katherine flinched, the sound vibrating through her teeth. She turned just in time to see a second rock strike the museum’s entrance, spiderwebbing the glass as a roar rose from the sidewalk.

“Give us our money back!”

“Scammer!”

“You stole from us!”

The first stone hit the glass door with a sharp, sickening crack.

Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs. Only minutes ago, she had been standing in the center of the exhibition hall; her parents’ legacy, the Anderson Museum of Fine Arts, welcoming guests in like any other day.

Now, she stood on the cold pavement, boxed in by a ring of angry faces, sweating uniformed men, and a bright red seal pasted across the glass double doors.

SOLD.

The word screamed at her in bold, red ink.

“No—no, this is wrong,” Katherine whispered in disbelief.

She surged forward, reaching for the door handle as if touching it might undo everything. Before her fingers could close around the wood, two men in tactical vests seized her arms and yanked her back.

“Stop it! Don’t do this!” Katherine cried, her voice cracking as she lunged for the door handle.

Her heels scraped uselessly against the pavement, the friction sending a jarring ache up her legs.

“You can’t shut this place down!” she screamed, struggling against their iron grip. “This museum belongs to me! I am the legal curator! Who authorized this?”

A short man, who she assumed was the leader sighed as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience. He handed her a thin stack of papers without even meeting her eyes.

“If you have an issue, take it up with the court,” he said flatly. “These are legal directives.”

Her fingers trembled as she grabbed the papers. She scanned it, the words blurring at first before they sharpened.

Property Transfer: Approved.

Seller: Robert Anderson.

Her uncle’s name stared back at her like a slap.

“No…” Katherine muttered, her knees weakened.

She staggered back, blinking rapidly, hoping the letters might disappear but it didn't.

And Robert, the man who had promised her father on his deathbed that he would protect Katherine and her legacy, had just sold the last property that was on her name like a piece of junk.

Before she could speak again, the papers were snatched from her hand. The men turned away, heading for their car.

“Wait!” Katherine rushed after them, her pride forgotten.

She grabbed the sleeve of the lead officer's sleeve.

“You can't just leave! This is fraud! My uncle doesn't have the right, he can't sell what isn't his!”

The man shook her off with a grunt, entering the SUV like nothing was said. The doors slammed shut with a finality that made her flinch and as the vehicle pulled away, leaving a cloud of acrid dust in its wake, Katherine felt the last of her protection vanish.

That was when the crowd turned fully against her.

“I knew it!” a woman in the front row hissed, pointing a finger at Katherine’s face. “She’s a scammer! She’s been taking our ticket money and donation funds while the building was not hers!”

“I paid two hundred dollars for a VIP membership this morning!” a man roared.

“Where’s my money, you thief?”

The word 'thief' echoed off the stone walls of the museum. It sliced through her, drawing blood.

“N-no, please...” Katherine lifted her shaky hands in a weak defensive gesture. “This is a misunderstanding. I didn't know... I swear, I thought the museum was—”

“This lady is a liar!” someone shouted from the back.

The circle drew tighter and while Katherine could smell the sweat and the raw aggression of the people, there was nothing she could do to remedy the situation.

She had used every dime of those ticket sales to pay the long overdue fees of the security guards and the janitorial staff this morning. She had zero dollars in her bank account and now a locked building behind her.

As a hand reached out to grab her shoulder, a sharp voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

“Enough!”

The mob froze, and she looked to see Tiffany shoved her way through the bodies, her face a mask of cold fury.

She stepped directly in front of Katherine, her heels clicking like a soldier's march and Katherine couldn't be any more grateful to see her.

“Every single one of you will be refunded by the end of the business day,” Tiffany snapped. “We have your transaction records. Now clear this sidewalk, or I call the police and report a riot.”

The mention of the police caused a ripple of hesitation among them. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse into grumbling clusters, moving toward the staff members who were still standing near the side entrance.

The moment the immediate threat faded, Katherine’s strength evaporated and she collapsed against Tiffany’s shoulder, her body racking with silent, violent sobs.

“Thank you,” she choked out, clutching her friend’s coat. “Tiffany, I didn't know! I swear I didn't know he would do this.”

“I know, Kat. I know,” Tiffany whispered, hugging her firmly. “But we need to move now. Before someone realizes we don't actually have the cash to refund them yet.”

****

The coffee shop three blocks away glowed with warm light, but Katherine felt hollow.

She stared out the window at the distant museum, the red seal still visible even from here.

“It was the last thing I had,” Katherine said quietly. “My parents life work is all behind that seal now.”

Tiffany squeezed her hands across the table, her expression grim. “Tell me exactly what those papers said.”

“My uncle sold it,” Katherine said, her eyes welling up again as bile filled her mouth. “He used the power of attorney my father gave him five years ago. He’s been waiting for the market to peak, and he pulled the final trigger.”

“That man is a parasite,” Tiffany snapped. “We’ll sue. we’ll find a lawyer who works on contingency.”

Katherine let out a dry, mirthless laugh. “With what evidence? My uncle has had five years to bury the trail. He owns the courts in this district, Tiff. I don’t even have enough money to pay for the coffee we’re drinking.”

Tiffany went silent, her jaw set. She stood up abruptly. “Wait here. I’m calling my cousin at the city planning office. If a sale went through this fast, there should be a paper trail.”

Katherine watched her friend pace outside the shop, phone pressed to her ear.

Minutes felt like hours, then Tiffany finally returned. But she didn't sit down, with a grim expression she slid her phone across the table.

“It’s worse than we thought,” Tiffany said quietly. “The buyer isn't a holding company. It’s Turner Development.”

Katherine felt the blood drain from her extremities. Turner Development a very aggressive land development company. The press called them 'The Architect of Ruin' because they didn't renovate history; they flattened it to make room for glass towers and massive corporations.

Turner Development was also notorious for moving so fast that by the time a lawsuit was filed, the building in question was already a pile of rubble.

“They plan to bring the machines in four days, Kat,” Tiffany continued, her voice trembling. “They’ve already pulled the demolition permits.”

“Four days?” Katherine gasped, her breath coming in shallow hitches. “They can’t. There are artifacts in there! Original paintings! If they tear it down, it’s all gone. There’s no coming back from that.”

“The contract says 'As-Is',” Tiffany whispered. “That means the contents belong to the buyer now.”

Katherine stared at the screen unmoving. Four days.... 96 hours until her parents’ legacy was turned into dust. The terror was overwhelming, but beneath it, a tiny, white-hot spark of desperation began to burn.

“There is one chance,” Tiffany said, leaning in close. “The CEO is the only one who can halt a demolition order once it’s been signed.”

Katherine looked at her friend deflated. “But he's been elusive... thats why most of these demolition goes through. He doesn't even take meetings with the Mayor.”

“Then don’t ask for a meeting,” Tiffany said firmly. “Find him and Intercept him. Then make him see reason."

Katherine's eyes flickered back out the window at the red seal. Her hands slowly curled into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms.

“I’ll find him,” Katherine said, her voice dropping to a cold, hard resolve. “Even if I have to burn my own life down to get his attention.”

Outside, the afternoon sun began to rise, casting a bright glare across the museum’s stone facade but Katherine could only hear the sound of ticking

The clock had started.

Chapter 2: The Desperate Search

“The CEO will be supervising a demolition tomorrow at Florence Planetarium. Be there by 9 a.m.”

Katherine read the message for the third time, her fingers tightening around her phone.

She was not supposed to be here.

The iron gates of Florence Planetarium loomed ahead, stone and metal casting long shadows across the ground. Katherine slowed, her steps faltering as memories she had buried clawed their way back to the surface.

“This isn’t about him,” she whispered.

“This is about the museum.”

She tightened her grip on her bag and forced herself forward, stepping into the security line.

One by one, hopeful visitors and members of the press were turned away by meticulous guards. Katherine swallowed hard as she moved forward.

The man she was here to see clearly didn’t want to be found, physically or online. She’d spent the entire night searching for information about him and had found no trace of his identity.

“Next.”

The sharp command made her flinch.

A guard stepped forward, his eyes cold as they scanned her from head to toe.

“ID.”

Katherine handed it over, willing her hands to stay steady.

“I’m with the welfare team,” she said calmly.

The guard studied the card, then her face.

“You look familiar.”

Her heart stopped.

“I get that a lot,” she said lightly. “Guess I have one of those faces.”

His eyes narrowed. “Wait, aren’t you—”

“No.” She answered too fast, and his brows arched slightly.

She forced a laugh. “Wrong person.”

A long pause stretched between them, sweat prickling at her spine.

Finally, he scoffed and handed the card back.

“Go.”

She didn’t hesitate, and the moment she crossed the gate, her chest loosened—but only slightly.

That had been the easy part. Her real goal began now.

Florence Planetarium stood tall but beautifully broken, with cracked walls, faded plaques, and vines creeping like veins across its once-polished stone. Time and neglect had worn it down, but its quiet dignity remained.

On the far end of the site stood a massive crane, its wrecking ball suspended midair like an executioner awaiting a signal.

The sight twisted Katherine’s stomach.

More than this building would be destroyed today.

“And why are you standing there like an idiot? Get to the tent!”

Katherine turned to see a short woman glaring at her. The badge on her chest read: Welfare Head.

“S-sorry,” Katherine said quickly. “I got lost.”

“We don’t pay people to sightsee,” the woman snapped. “Move.”

Inside the tent, workers moved quickly, stacking food and drinks. Katherine joined them, keeping her head down and her ears open.

“Such a shame,” one man muttered. “My school came here on a field trip years ago.”

“That won’t matter soon,” another replied. “Once Mr. D sets his sights on a place, it’s finished.”

Katherine’s fingers stilled.

“Mr. D?” she asked carefully. “Why not his full name?”

The workers chuckled.

“As if we’d know,” a woman said. “That’s just what staff call him. Most of us have never even seen his face.”

“Is he coming today?” Katherine asked, her heart pounding.

The woman shrugged. “Rumor says yes. That’s why the owners are refusing to leave.”

Katherine followed her gaze.

Near the entrance, an elderly couple sat on the ground, hands clasped tightly, surrounded by security. Their faces were hollow with grief, resignation carved deep into their features.

Something inside Katherine snapped.

“When does the CEO arrive?” she asked, sharper than intended.

The woman narrowed her eyes.

“Why do you care, Ava?”

Katherine caught herself and forced a shrug.

“I just think… if he’s going to destroy their life’s work, he should at least face them.”

The woman scoffed.

“He doesn’t do confrontations.”

The roar of machinery cut through the air as the crane lurched to life.

Katherine’s breath shortened.

“No. Not yet.”

“And will you take all day to serve the trays?” the Welfare Head barked, reappearing. “Move! The demolition is about to start!”

Katherine stumbled out of the tent, panic tightening around her chest as she carried the trays toward the site. The engine grew louder. The wrecking ball swung slightly, metal groaning against steel.

If she didn’t stop this now, the museum would fall.....and so would the last thing her father left behind.

Her vision blurred.

The noise, the shouting, the grinding machinery all crashed together. Pain exploded behind her eyes, her knees buckling beneath her.

She fell forward—

—and was caught by a pair of strong arms before she hit the ground.

The scent hit her first, Cedarwood.

Warm. Familiar.

Her fingers curled instinctively into his sleeve.

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting a pair of dark eyes staring down at her.

Recognition struck like lightning.

Him.

As darkness claimed her, one thought echoed painfully through her mind.

Fate is cruel.

And this time, it wasn’t done with her yet.

“Katty… you know I love you.”

His voice trembled, raw and desperate.

Katherine stared at the marble floor of the Florence planetarium, her fingers digging painfully into the fabric of her trousers.

If she looked at him, if she saw his eyes.... she would break.

How could she tell him the truth?

That her father had found out.

That threats had been made and staying with him would do him more harm than good?

“I know,” she said instead, her voice flat. “You don’t need to keep saying it.”

The breeze drifted through the vast hall, stirring her hair. Butterflies fluttered lazily above them.

When she thought her heart was frozen solid, his arms suddenly wrapped around her, making her resolve crumble.

The scent of cedarwood surrounded her and she wished to lean into this warm, familiar feeling of safety.

“This isn’t you,” he whispered against her hair. “Someone’s forcing you, aren’t they? Just tell me and I’ll—”

“Enough!” she yelled, shrugging his hand off.

He stumbled back, shock etched across his face.

Tears slid down his cheeks, soaking into the worn shirt she had bought him. Her gaze trembled for a second as they fell on the faded jeans and scuffed shoes which she bought for him.

But she hardened instantly.

“Your love won’t change anything,” she said coldly. “I came here as a courtesy. Tomorrow is our convocation, and I don’t want this dragging me down.”

His shoulders fell weakly.

“We come from different worlds,” she continued, cruelty dripping from every word. “I was foolish to think we would work out. I deserve better.”

Something dark flickered in his eyes.

“And you,” she whispered, voice shaking despite herself, “are not it, Damien.”

She turned away.

“I won’t be with a beggar like you.”

*******

Ten years later

“…panic attack. She should be waking up anytime now, sir.”

Katherine gasped awake, the light burning her eyes as pain throbbed through her skull.

Not willing to wait further, she pushed herself upright, her heart racing.

“W-where am I?”

“Are you alright, miss—”

“She’s fine.”

His voice cut through the room like a blade, and her blood turned to ice.

“Leave.”

The room emptied instantly and she turned turned slowly to see her past staring back at her.

Damien Sullivan.

For the last ten years, she imagined how this moment would go when she met him again; it would be filled teary apologies and explanations and ultimately forgiveness.

But as she met his gaze, he looked nothing like the boy she loved years ago.

His broad shoulders strained beneath a perfectly tailored black suit. His face sharper, his eyes colder, and something about his presence pressed down on her chest like a weight.

Cedarwood still clung to him, but now it made her chest feel stuffy.

As the room emptied, he stepped closer, his polished shoes clicking against the floor.

“Katherine Anderson,” he said smoothly. “To what do I owe this reunion?”

Her legs trembled as she stood.

“I need to see the CEO of Turner Development,” she said, steadying herself. “It’s urgent.”

A flicker crossed his eyes at her statement, but it went too fast.

“You’re staff here, aren’t you?” she pressed. “Just take me to him. I’ll explain everything later.”

Damien said nothing, then the door opened.

“Mr. D,” a man said respectfully. “The demolition team is ready.”

Katherine’s blood ran cold, her eyes widening as his filled with a cruel glint.

He is... Mr. D?

Damien turned toward the window. “Proceed.”

Her breath shattered.

“But sir,” the man hesitated. “The owners are still inside.”

“Remove them.”

“Remove them?” Katherine rushed toward him. “They’ve been waiting all day just to speak to you!”

“They’re irrelevant.”

She looked through the floor to ceiling glass to see security drag the elderly couple away as their cries echoed through the site.

She grabbed Damien’s wrist. “Listen to me!”

He looked down at her hand, amused.

“You’re here to beg,” he said softly. “And I don’t entertain beggars.”

The wrecking ball slammed into stone and her heart broke with the sound.

“What will it take,” she demanded, fury replacing fear, “to leave my father’s museum alone?”

Damien laughed quietly.

“And what do you have to offer me, Katty?”

She stiffened at the nickname. “That is not—”.

He stepped closer, his fingers lifted her chin with a tight grip.

“Marry me.”

The words were soft but cruel and her palm connected with his face before she could stop herself.

“I would rather die.” she spat.

Damien didn’t flinch.

“Choice is a luxury,” he replied coolly. “You don’t have.”

“Like you have a choice?”

He walked away, lifting a glass of whiskey as if bored.

“You’re broke,” he said lazily. “And I paid far more than that building was worth.”

He glanced at his watch.

“You have until Friday noon to give me one hundred and fifty million.”

Her breath caught.

“Fail,” he continued calmly, “and the museum disappears.”

He turned, eyes dark and certain.

“Or,” he added, “you belong to me and all this disappears.”

Katherine lifted her chin, refusing to show fear.

“Then consider it done, Mr. Sullivan.”

His smile was slow, lethal. “I look forward to watching you try.”

“But no one will help you except me."