Ella Rosales's POV:

Ethan pulled his car up to the front of the hotel.

I started to unbuckle my seatbelt.

"Thank you for the ride, Ethan," I said, my voice coming out softer than I intended. The alcohol had definitely lowered my defenses.

"No problem, Ella," he replied, his voice calm and deep. He made no move to get out of the car; he just looked at me.

I opened the door, ready to step out.

Right then, a thought flashed through my mind—Holden's dismissive words. A spark of rebellion, fueled by the booze and my bruised ego, suddenly surged within me.

I turned back and asked him, "Do you want to come up for a drink?" Before I could even stop myself, the words were out, surprising even me.

A slow smile spread across his face, and genuine warmth filled his eyes. He killed the engine, and the car fell instantly silent.

The elevator ride up to the room was short, but it felt like it took a century.

As the doors slowly closed, he turned to face me, his gaze burning into mine.

Then, without a word, he leaned in and kissed me. It was a firm, commanding kiss that stole my breath. My mind went blank.

An intense, unexpected wave of desire washed over me, hot and dizzying.

He deepened the kiss, one hand gently cupping the back of my neck. I felt like the oxygen was being sucked out of my lungs.

I pulled back slightly. "Ethan," I breathed heavily, "the security cameras." I weakly pointed to the corner of the elevator ceiling.

My cheeks were burning, a deep flush spreading rapidly. My legs felt like lead, ready to give out at any moment. I had to wrap my arms tightly around his waist just to stay standing.

He glanced at the camera, a wicked smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He expertly shifted his body, cleverly blocking the camera's view, and pulled me back into a searing kiss.

This time, I kissed him back.

When the elevator doors opened, he broke the kiss, his eyes filled with raw desire. He quickly swiped the keycard, and the hotel door clicked open. He stepped inside, pulling me in with him.

Just as he was about to kick the door shut, he paused, his eyes locked onto mine.

"Are you sure about this, Ella?" he asked in a low, husky whisper. "Are you going to regret it?"

My mind was hazy, the wine and his intoxicating scent making me feel lethargic.

"Regret what?" I asked softly, pulling him closer. "You've already kissed my lips swollen, don't you think it's a little late to ask if I'll regret it?"

He let out a low chuckle, a rich, satisfied sound. His thumb gently brushed across my lower lip.

I pulled him closer, my body pressing flush against his. He kissed me again, his lips greedy and urgent.

We stumbled through the entryway, not even making it to the bedroom. My back hit the cold wall, his hands began to roam over my body, and my dress rustled softly.

"Oh," I moaned softly, gripping his arms tightly. "Ethan, slow down."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with gravel. "I just... I've wanted you for so long, I couldn't help it."

Ella Rosales's POV:

Later, as we lay there tangled together, I finally understood what he meant by "couldn't help it."

"So," I asked, breathless, my voice still trembling slightly, "Ethan, how long has it been since you were with a woman?"

He had been so ferocious in bed, I could barely keep up.

His body tensed, his jaw tightening. He turned his head away, his expression unreadable. "A while."

I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at him. "A while? Stop pretending, Ethan. Be honest."

He sighed, then turned back to face me, his expression solemn. "Always," he admitted, avoiding my eyes. "I've always been too focused on work, on building my company. It just hasn't been a priority for me."

I blinked, genuinely stunned.

Single this whole time? For a successful, handsome billionaire like Ethan, it was almost unbelievable.

His honesty completely disarmed me. My laughter died in my throat, replaced by a sudden, unexpected surge of emotion.

Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and stinging.

"Oh, God," I choked out, a sob catching in my throat. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I..." I've tainted you.

I suddenly felt a wave of regret.

I wasn't good enough for him. I shouldn't have slept with him. He deserved to find a woman so much better than me.

He instantly panicked, his eyes widening in alarm. "Ella? What's wrong? Why are you crying?" He sat up, frantically fumbling for tissues on the nightstand, his movements clumsy and rushed. He gently wiped my tears away, his touch soft and hesitant.

But the tears wouldn't stop; they poured down like a broken dam. "I shouldn't have done this," I sobbed, pulling away slightly. "I shouldn't have... I'm a bad woman, Ethan."

He cupped my face, his grip strong yet incredibly tender. His eyes were fierce and unwavering. "You are wonderful, Ella."

He pulled me closer, resting his forehead against mine. "Now you have to face this. You started this, so you have to take responsibility for the consequences. Okay?"

I held my breath. I stared into his eyes and saw nothing but a quiet intensity, a kind of devotion.

For the first time in a long time, I felt a spark of trust.

"What consequences?" I asked.

"Be my girlfriend." He kissed my forehead.

Ella Rosales's POV:

It was my seventh day in LA.

I was sitting at the kitchen island in Carly's house, sketching designs for a potential client. Before dedicating myself to chasing after Holden, I used to work as a designer.

Then, my old phone buzzed.

It was a text from Olivia, a mutual friend of mine and Holden's back in New York.

"Hey, Ella! How are you doing? When are you coming back to New York? We miss you!"

I paused, then replied: "Hey Liv! I'm doing well. Not sure when I'm coming back, no plans for now."

Olivia immediately fired back another text: "Ugh, come on! Next week is my birthday! You have to come to my party! It won't be the same without you."

I hesitated. Going back to New York, going back to that circle, meant seeing Holden, or at least dealing with his ghost. I wasn't ready for that. "I'm sorry, Liv, I can't make it. But I promise to send you a surprise."

"Oh well, don't worry about it, I totally understand," she replied, a hint of resignation in her tone. "Take care of yourself, okay? We're all thinking about you."

A moment later, another call notification popped up. It was Olivia calling. I picked it up.

"Ella! Thank God you answered," she said, her voice sounding a bit too overly enthusiastic. "Listen, Holden wants to talk to you."

I heard muffled voices on her end, and then Holden's voice came through, a forced nonchalance in his tone. "Ella? You're alive. Your friends have been worried sick."

"Holden," I said flatly, "what do you want?"

"I just wanted to see if you'd come back for Liv's party," he said. "Everyone is asking about you, and it's getting a little awkward." He paused, then added, "I know things ended a bit messy between us, but we were together for seven years. We can handle this like adults."

I could hear murmuring in the background. "She's not backing down, is she?" I recognized the voice as one of Holden's sycophants.

Holden ignored him. "Come on, Ella. Don't be so immature. Your little vacation is over. Time to come back to reality."

Before I could respond, a woman's voice came over the line. "Holden, just talk to her. She'll listen to you. She always listens." It was Olivia, clearly trying to play peacemaker. "She's just heartbroken. You know how sensitive she is."

They were still treating me like the weak, submissive Ella.

"Liv," I said, my voice firm, "I'm not coming back. And please, stop passing my personal information on to Holden."

Stunned silence fell on Olivia's end. "Ella? What are you talking about?"

"Goodbye, Liv. Happy birthday." I hung up the phone.

Holden Burks's POV:

The call disconnected.

Olivia's voice, though somewhat muffled, drifted across the room. "She's not coming back, Holden. She said not to give you her info anymore."

I stared at the screen of Olivia's phone in her hand, my knuckles turning white. Ella's name softly glowed on the screen. My jaw clenched tight.

"Holden, don't be mad," Olivia said timidly, "She's really hurt. She even took the ring off. Honestly, you and that new girl at the Met... that was a bit much."

"Shut up, Liv!" I roared, standing up from the sofa and crushing my cigarette into the ashtray. "What the hell do you know?"

I was burning with rage. Who was she to judge me? Who was Ella to ignore me?

"Hey, calm down, man," Mark, Olivia's husband, said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "She's just in a bad mood. She always gets over it quickly."

"Nobody mention her fucking name again!" I bellowed. "None of you are allowed to contact her anymore! You hear me?"

My friends exchanged awkward glances but nodded anyway. "Holden, you don't look so good," Olivia said softly. "Your stomach is acting up again, isn't it? Only Ella knows how to calm you down."

Her words hit me right where it hurt.

When Ella was around, she monitored my drinking, preventing my stomach ulcers from flaring up.

My expression darkened. They were right. Ever since she left, I hadn't been able to sleep or eat properly. The apartment was empty and freezing cold.

I missed her calm, capable nature. I missed her unwavering support. I missed her.

But I refused to admit it.

I stormed out, slamming the door behind me. The cold night wind did nothing to cool my fury.

Ella. She actually had the nerve to cut me off. I never thought she would do something like this. Her silence, her refusal to respond, stuck in my throat like a fishbone. It was intentional, calculated. She had changed. I didn't like it.

My thumb hovered over her contact in my phone, and I hit "Block."

"Then don't come back. You'll regret it, Ella. I swear."