The restaurant buzzed with post-dinner chatter, plates clinking softly and laughter drifting from nearby tables. The evening had gone surprisingly well—no awkward silences, no overwhelming tension despite Damien's presence. Celeste had subtly managed the flow of conversation, just like she'd handled everything else that week—with grace cloaked under boldness.
Damien stood near the counter, card in hand, paying for the evening's chaos that felt oddly grounding. He wasn't used to dinners like this—lively, warm, human. As he took the receipt from the hostess, he caught sight of her.
Celeste was at the far end of the counter, talking to the cashier. Her voice was soft but clear, one hand holding her clutch, the other gesturing at the small takeout container being carefully packed. She didn't glance around, didn't check if anyone was watching. She was simply… there, in her world, doing something with quiet intent.
He frowned slightly and walked toward her.
"What are you doing?" he asked, slipping the card back into his wallet.
Celeste blinked, a little startled, then gave a half-smile. "Ordering takeout."
"I can see that," Damien said dryly, raising a brow. "But why are you paying for it?"
She shrugged, almost sheepishly. "It's for Maya."
Damien blinked. "You do know she works at the same company and was invited, right?"
"She did," Celeste nodded. "But it was my team's win tonight. My team's dinner. Maya isn't in the finance department, and I didn't want it to look like I was showing favoritism just because she's my best friend." She turned to accept the takeout box from the server, then added, "But I couldn't go home without something for her. She's been my sanity all week."
There was no dramatic pause, no attempt to gain sympathy. Just honesty, so pure it knocked the breath out of him for a second.
"I could've added that to the bill," Damien said after a pause, a little more quietly this time.
Celeste smiled, clutching the box. "I wanted to pay for it. It was something I wanted to do. For her."
He couldn't say anything to that. He just… watched her.
Something about the moment lingered. In a world of strategic alliances and power plays, Celeste Moreau remembered the people who mattered in the softest ways.
He couldn't stop staring.
The laughter from the restaurant still lingered in the car as they all began to file out, their night coming to an end. The air outside was cooler now, the city lights reflecting off the sleek black vehicle as Damien walked her out with the rest of the team. Everyone had full stomachs, a light buzz, and—most importantly—smiles.
Lucien had just unlocked the passenger door when Celeste stopped walking.
"Lucien?" she said lightly, her tone wrapped in casual calm. "Would you mind dropping me at Maya's?"
Both men turned to look at her.
Damien frowned almost immediately. "Maya's? I thought you lived nearby."
"I do." She smiled faintly. "But I promised her dinner. And I might just stay the night. Haven't seen her properly in days."
Lucien opened his mouth to ask something but caught the flicker in her expression. She wasn't lying—but she wasn't telling the whole truth either. He simply nodded. "Of course. Hop in."
Damien, however, wasn't so easily convinced. "Celeste, I can drop the food off to her if that's all. It's late."
"I want to see her," she said gently, still not looking him in the eye. "It's nothing. Just… tired."
He didn't push again, but he didn't like the sudden wall. The way her shoulders stiffened slightly. The way her smile looked polite, not warm.
They drove in silence, soft music playing in the background. Celeste kept her gaze out the window.
Because the truth was—she didn't want either of them seeing where she lived.
Not yet.
Her apartment was small. Cramped. Still in a not-so-good neighborhood where the elevator creaked and sometimes didn't work at all. Her kitchen sink had a constant drip she hadn't gotten fixed. And while she kept it tidy, it didn't have the glow or comfort she pretended it did.
And tonight—after Damien had paid for everyone's meal, and she'd just received money that could probably cover six months of her rent—she felt… small.
Not because of them.
Because of herself.
She didn't want to be seen like that. Not when she had just proven herself as someone powerful in a boardroom. Not when she'd sat beside Damien Moreau and carried a meeting with confidence and poise. Not when, for the first time in her life, she felt respected.
She didn't want to ruin that image—not yet.
The car finally stopped in front of Maya's apartment complex. A modest building, but charming. One of those old places with plants on the balcony and wind chimes.
"Text me once you're in," Lucien said softly as she grabbed the takeaway bag and her purse.
"I will."
Damien didn't say anything immediately. He just stared at her like he was trying to understand something. Like he knew there was more to this. His voice was soft but firm. "You'll let me know if something's wrong?"
Celeste met his gaze. And for the first time tonight, she smiled for real.
"I will," she whispered, then closed the door.
As the car pulled away, Damien looked back once, watching the silhouette of Celeste as she disappeared into the building, the paper bag of food still in hand.
He didn't understand everything about her.
But he was starting to want to.
The night had settled into that comfortable quiet that only followed a day full of chaos. Celeste leaned against her window once she got home, sipping water as she slipped off her heels. Her phone buzzed—an alert from her banking app.
She blinked.
She frowned, her brows drawing together. Those amounts weren't minor bonuses. They were significant. Corporate-level significant. "What the hell…" she whispered, refreshing again.
Still there.
Confused, she didn't call Damien. Not because she didn't want to—but because she didn't trust herself to sound unaffected.
So she dialed Lucien instead.
"Lucien?" she asked when he picked up, sounding like he was mid-laugh.
"Yes, Celeste? Everything okay? Did Damien do something?"
"Not this time," she smirked, even though he couldn't see it. "I just got credited a large sum… by two different accounts. It looks like one came from your company. The other from the one we partnered with tonight. What's going on?"
Lucien paused for a second. Then sighed.
"Well," he started carefully, "That was supposed to go to someone else—had they been the ones to close the deal."
"But I was."
"Exactly," he said, with a smile in his voice. "You were the reason we got the deal. Both sides acknowledged that. The share you got from our side was… Damien's call. He fought hard for it, too. Said you deserved what the other person would've gotten had they done it. And the other company agreed to match the recognition on their end."
Celeste sat down slowly, the edge of the bed dipping beneath her. "So I got… a success fee?"
"Not exactly. More like… you earned yourself a seat at the table."
Her breath caught.
It wasn't about the money.
It was what it meant. She was no longer just "the new head of finance." She had become someone who could close deals. Someone the industry was now beginning to notice.
"You okay?" Lucien asked.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I didn't expect any of this."
"Well, you should get used to it."
"And Damien? He approved this?"
Lucien's voice softened. "He pushed for it. You really thought he wouldn't make sure you were recognized?"
Celeste swallowed hard.
For all his ego, all his moods, Damien saw her. And he didn't just see her—he respected her.
And somehow, that meant more than anything else tonight.
Maya opened the door within seconds of the knock, eyes wide in surprise and then quickly softening into warmth.
"Cee?" Her gaze dropped to the takeout bag in Celeste's hands. "You actually brought me food? Oh my God, I thought you forgot!"
Celeste gave a tired smile, stepping inside. "I said I would."
"I know, but you've been so busy with this whole… CEO drama and your first day and—" Maya paused, eyeing her friend a little more closely. "You look tired."
Celeste laughed quietly, setting the bag on the dining table. "Long day."
Maya didn't miss the way she didn't elaborate. But she didn't push yet. Instead, she rushed to get plates, her excitement bubbling over. "Okay, what do we have here? Let me guess… dumplings? No, pasta—wait, is this from that place Damien always orders from?"
Celeste nodded, pulling off her shoes. "His treat."
Maya raised a brow as she started unpacking the food. "So the dinner happened?"
"Mhm."
"And he paid?"
"He took the whole team out."
"Of course he did. Mr. 'Money-Grows-On-Trees' Moreau."
Celeste let out a short laugh but didn't comment further.
Maya glanced back again, noting the way her best friend sat on the edge of the couch, straight-backed, fingers laced together like she was still in an office meeting.
"Okay," Maya said, bringing over the food and sitting beside her, "talk. What happened?"
Celeste picked up a fork and stabbed a piece of grilled chicken. "Meeting went well. They're considering the deal. We impressed them."
Maya blinked. "That's it? Celeste, you were losing your mind over this yesterday. I want full context. Did you crush it? Was Damien surprised? Did the other company act snobby?"
Celeste chewed slowly, then finally gave in, voice neutral. "I did most of the talking. Damien was… present. Their boss—this guy in his late forties—was polite. Maybe too polite."
Maya narrowed her eyes. "Define 'too polite.'"
Celeste shrugged. "Just… very engaged. Offered us lunch afterward."
Maya blinked. "What kind of lunch are we talking about here?"
"A public one."
"Still not comforting."
Celeste smiled faintly. "I handled it."
Maya opened her mouth to press more but then caught the look in her best friend's eyes. She was exhausted. Not just physically, but emotionally.
Still, she asked, carefully, "And after that?"
Celeste hesitated for the briefest moment before saying, "We drove back. I might've fallen asleep in the car."
Maya stared at her for a moment, a flicker of suspicion surfacing. "On Damien?"
Celeste gave the smallest nod. "Wasn't planned. I was just tired."
Maya didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then she nudged her. "You've got it bad, don't you?"
Celeste didn't respond.
"Cee."
Still nothing.
Maya leaned forward, picking at her food before casually adding, "You know… Lucien called me."
Celeste's head turned. "What?"
"He said you were amazing in the meeting. That everyone noticed. And—" she paused, eyes sharp now "—that two transactions hit your account tonight?"
Celeste nodded once. "One from our company, one from theirs. A share from the deal."
Maya whistled. "Damn. You're already breaking records."
Celeste didn't beam at the compliment like she usually would have. Instead, she just murmured, "It was unexpected."