Rejected by my ex, Claimed by the CEO

Chapter Seventeen

Harriet’s POV

Just as I was about to lose myself in the thrill of what would happen, my phone buzzed violently against the dresser, shattering the moment. I straightened up, my heart racing; a different kind of racing this time. I rushed to grab it, my fingers trembling when I saw Sandra's name flash across the screen.

I opened her message quickly, scanning the text. My breath caught in my throat as a wave of panic washed over me.

*Harriet. Damon is looking for you. He wants to talk. I thought you should know.*

What did he want? Why now? Did he want to apologise? To explain? A thousand questions bombarded me, each more urgent than the last.

Gino was in the other room, and despite everything, I didn’t want to burden him with my past—especially not with Damon resurfacing. Not when we were on the brink of something beautiful.

“Harriet?” Gino called from the other room, and my heart lurched at the sound of his voice. I couldn’t let him see my panic. I texted Sandra back hurriedly, trying to maintain some semblance of calm.

“I don’t want to see him. Don’t tell him where I am.”

That was a lie. But how could I handle it? Damon had always known how to get under my skin and mess with my head, manipulating everything until I lost sight of my feelings. I took a deep breath, struggling to process the swirl of emotions while Gino was still nearby.

I paced slowly toward the bedroom door, rehearsing how to react as I prepared to face Gino. “Hey. Everything okay?” he asked, peeking around the corner. His expression was a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Yeah! Just… checking the weather for Paris,” I lied, forcing a smile that felt stuck to my face. “Should be gorgeous.”

“Great!” He stepped into the room, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Just think of the croissants and all the artwork we’re going to see, as well as sealing the deal of a lifetime for the company.”

I nodded, desperately clutching my phone as if it were a lifeline, trying to steady the torrent of anxiety building within me. "Yeah, exactly," I said, forcing enthusiasm into my voice.

But my mind was racing. I needed to get to the airport—and fast. “Gino, do you think we could leave a bit earlier?” I asked innocently, keeping my heartbeat in check. “I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

“Of course! I can drive faster if you want,” he offered, tilting his head genuinely concerned.

“Please, yes! That would be great,” I replied a little too eagerly, the panic slipping through my voice despite my best attempts to remain composed.

“Alright, let’s grab your things and go!” He moved swiftly back to packing while I hurried to gather a few essentials, mentally chanting to ignore Damon—you’re in a new place now; focus on Gino. He is a hundred times better, even if it’s just a contract!

But Damon’s looming presence wouldn’t let me go. What if he found out where I was? What if he showed up at the airport? What if he tried to talk to me after all this time? My chest felt tight at the mere thought. I couldn’t revisit that life. I deserved better. I didn’t want to be someone’s plaything. And what about Aurora?

As I shoved a sweater into my suitcase, frantic thoughts wrestled within me—“Why now? Why when you finally seem to be moving on?” Each urgent question felt like an unwelcome ghost resurrecting old feelings.

Finally, we were ready to leave, and Gino ushered me out of the apartment. The world outside buzzed with life; its normalcy clashed sharply with my spiralling emotions. The car ride was filled with snippets of conversation about Paris, his voice smooth and steady—a soothing balm—but my mind was elsewhere entirely.

“Harriet?” he ventured, glancing at me while we waited at a red light. “You still with me?” An amused smile danced on his lips. Damn, he was handsome. Why couldn’t I stop thinking that?

“Yeah! Just daydreaming about the Eiffel Tower,” I fibbed, plastering a smile on my face.

He chuckled, refocusing on the road. “We’re going to climb to the top! I can’t wait to see your face when you do.”

The thrill of that moment clashed with my dread of Damon wanting to talk. As we neared the airport, my hands clenched tightly around my purse.

“Breathe, Harriet,” I whispered, fighting against the whirling tide of dread. I had Gino beside me, someone who made me feel alive in ways I never dreamed possible. But I also had to protect that light from the past trying to seep in.

What if I lost this new beginning?

As we parked and emerged from the car, I took one last breath of fresh air. I would keep my past in the shadows, if only for a little longer, as I stepped into the bright possibility of my future with Gino. All the while, in the back of my mind, the question loomed—what did Damon want?

As we manoeuvred through the bustling airport, excited travellers surrounded us. I felt the thrill of adventure on the horizon, but I also clung to an undercurrent of anxiety about Damon. I tucked my phone into my purse, hoping its silence would offer me a reprieve from the chaos behind the scenes.

“Are you ready for this?” Gino asked, glancing at me as we approached the check-in counter. His brown eyes were shining with anticipation. His enthusiasm was infectious, and I felt the weight of my worries lift slightly for a moment.

“Absolutely!” I replied, forcing my brightest smile. I wanted to believe it, too—this trip could be the beginning of something extraordinary.

We checked in swiftly, Gino effortlessly navigating the process as he waved away my attempts to contribute. “Just relax—let me handle everything,” he said, his tone relaxed yet commanding.

“Easy for you to say,” I teased lightly, even as a part of me grappled with uncertainty. “I’m just the plus one on this adventure.”

His smirk widened. “You’re not ‘just’ anything. You’re vital to this trip—trust me.”

We moved through security, and as we crossed through the metal detector, I felt more like a tourist than a woman dragging baggage from her past. I allowed myself a brief moment of excitement, imagining what Paris would be like—strolling along the Seine, trying on berets, the smell of fresh bread wafting through the air.

But as we waited at the gate, my phone buzzed again. My heart stopped. I glanced at Gino, who was caught up in a conversation with an airport employee about the upcoming flight, giving me a fleeting moment of privacy. It was another message from Sandra.

*He’s insistent, Harriet. Just be careful, okay?*

I bit my lip and quickly typed back, *I know. I’ll be fine. I'm just trying to focus on the trip.*

My fingers hovered over the ‘send’ button as reality sank in. The nagging sense of dread lurking in my mind crashed over me. What if Damon showed up at the airport? What if I had to choose between my past and this incredible new life Gino was offering me?

“Hey, everything alright?” Gino’s voice startled me, pulling me back from the spiral of anxiety.

“Yeah! Just checking the reviews on the airport,” I lied, forcing a smile as I tucked my phone away.

He looked sceptical but let it slide as he moved closer, reassuringly touching my back. “We’ll be up in the air in no time. Just keep thinking of all the croissants.”

The promise of gourmet pastries briefly refocused my mind, and I let Gino’s warmth wash over me, reminding me of where I wanted to be.

“Right! And maybe a little wine? I’ve heard it’s lovely,” I grinned, slipping into light banter, hoping to bury my worries deeper.

“Wine—after some sightseeing. I can’t wait to show you my favourite places,” he said, excitement sparkling in his eyes.

As we settled into our seats, my heart raced with anticipation for Paris and the lingering fear of what lay behind me. The flight took off smoothly, lifting us high above the clouds, and I felt a mix of euphoria and dread twisting within me.

About an hour into the flight, the seatbelt sign dinged off, and the cabin began to buzz with chatter as the flight attendants served refreshments. My stomach was knotted with fear when I started to think about Damon again.

“Harriet?” Gino’s voice cut through my thoughts. He leaned closer, a serious shadow crossing his expression. “You okay? You seem… distant.”

I shifted, knowing I had to shake off the apprehension. “I’m just a little nervous, I guess. First time on the way to Paris and all,” I fibbed again, my pulse quickening as I spoke.

“Hey, breathe. Just keep thinking of our plans. You’re going to love it. And we’ll take our time—no rush.” He smiled.

I nodded, “What if he comes after me?” I whispered internally, almost pleading with the universe to distract me from that thought.