Divorcing My CEO

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Chapter 6 The invitation img
Chapter 7 The Blackwood family's img
Chapter 8 I could make things right img
Chapter 9 A fresh start img
Chapter 10 Something in the air img
Chapter 11 Reclaiming what i lost img
Chapter 12 Never a thing img
Chapter 13 Why him img
Chapter 14 If she remembers img
Chapter 15 Thing's unsaid img
Chapter 16 I see you img
Chapter 17 Becoming a better man img
Chapter 18 Quiet Questions img
Chapter 19 One condition img
Chapter 20 Soft cracks in the wall img
Chapter 21 She still cares img
Chapter 22 Closer than before img
Chapter 23 Silent but heavy img
Chapter 24 A tiny hope img
Chapter 25 The wrong movement img
Chapter 26 The devil's deal img
Chapter 27 Silent storm img
Chapter 28 Lines drawn img
Chapter 29 The crack behind the walls img
Chapter 30 Beginning of us img
Chapter 31 Vengeance in a suit img
Chapter 32 The storm breaks img
Chapter 33 Printed Shame img
Chapter 34 Hope in his arms img
Chapter 35 The family meeting img
Chapter 36 Still holding on img
Chapter 37 A renewed promise img
Chapter 38 Scandals and strategies img
Chapter 39 A morning mistake img
Chapter 40 Uninterrupted moments img
Chapter 41 Crossed lines img
Chapter 42 The deal img
Chapter 43 Heat in the kitchen img
Chapter 44 Every call has a price img
Chapter 45 The arrow in his hands img
Chapter 46 The devil's Evidence img
Chapter 47 Behind the smile img
Chapter 48 The Trap img
Chapter 49 The mysterious request img
Chapter 50 The mysterious request img
Chapter 51 The mysterious file img
Chapter 52 web of deception img
Chapter 53 The weight of doubt img
Chapter 54 More than business img
Chapter 55 Unveiling Eloise img
Chapter 56 The hidden name img
Chapter 57 The scent of peace img
Chapter 58 Lines crossed img
Chapter 59 The truth img
Chapter 60 The price of lies img
Chapter 61 A night to remember img
Chapter 62 A night to remember 2 img
Chapter 63 The unveiled evidence img
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Chapter 5 I could be your towel

Damian POV:

The steam clung to my skin as I stepped out of the shower, water still dripping from my hair. I grabbed a towel, slung it low around my hips, and rubbed another one across my chest.

The room was too quiet ,until it wasn't.

Click.

The door creaked open behind me.

"Lira."

I didn't turn around immediately. Just said her name like it was normal, like I hadn't spent the last five minutes trying to forget the way her laugh used to sound echoing off these walls.

She froze in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh. God. I didn't...know you were...half-naked.." she stammered, throwing a hand over her eyes but failing miserably at pretending not to look.

A smirk tugged at my lips. "Correction. I'm fully naked. The towel is just a courtesy."

She let out a strangled sound, half cough, half groan, and spun around. "Could you, like....not be so comfortable in your nudity?"

"Could you not barge in like you live here?" I stepped closer, water still dripping from my hair, letting it fall just enough to make her fluster worse. "Wait. You do still live here."

She muttered something under her breath. Probably a curse. Probably adorable.

"I just came to grab my script," she said, waving a hand over her shoulder. "Didn't know this was The Garden of Eden."

"Feel free to bite the apple," I murmured.

"Damian!"

I laughed. Actually laughed. She made it so damn easy.

"Fine, I'm going to take a shower. Enjoy your... exhibitionism."

As she disappeared into the bathroom with a dramatic slam of the door, I shook my head. This woman. Always in control on camera, but a complete mess when it came to me.

I looked at her jokingly, knowing what was to come next.

Ten minutes later, I was scrolling through emails on the couch when I heard it.

"Damian."

Soft, and muffled. From the bathroom.

I smirked.

"Damian!" Louder now. "Where are the towels?"

I stretched out lazily. "Oh. I moved them earlier. They're in the dryer."

Silence.

More silence.

Then. "Well, can you bring me one?!"

I kept quiet.

"Please?" She said.

I bit my lip, already grinning. "Or... I could be your towel."

"What?"

"You heard me." I stood up, walked to the bathroom door, and leaned against it. "I've got warm hands. Strong arms. Very absorbent."

"Damian!"

"Just trying to help." I raised my voice in mock innocence. "You always said I didn't know how to be soft. This is me being soft."

She cracked the door open just a little. All I saw was a dripping hand reaching out. "Towel. Now. Or I swear I'll walk out of here and drip all over your precious Italian couch."

"That's a five thousand dollar couch."

"Then fetch the damn towel."

"I wouldn't mind if you drip all over my couch by the way. I'm fucking rich and a five thousand dollar couch won't make any difference. I could get it a million times."

"please Damian." She pleaded.

I chuckled and grabbed one from the dryer, tossing it gently toward her hand like I was feeding a tiger.

"Thanks," she mumbled, slamming the door again.

I turned to walk away, still smiling.

Then I heard it, her low, quiet voice from behind the door:

"And for the record... I wasn't staring."

I grinned.

"Sure, Lira. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Few minutes later.

The bathroom door creaked open again, and I glanced up, expecting the usual rush of steam.

What I wasn't expecting... was her, in that.

Lira stepped out in one of the white robes, loosely tied at the waist. Her damp hair framed her face in soft waves, and water still clung to her collarbones like drops of honey. She looked...

Holy hell.

She looked like the kind of dream you wake up from aching.

Her bare feet padded across the marble floor as she walked past me with the kind of calm confidence that should be illegal, and studied. I swallowed hard, my eyes trailing lower before I yanked them back up.

Up, Damian. Eyes up.

"Something wrong?" she asked, dropping onto the couch beside me and adjusting the robe in that not subtle way that gave me a perfect view of her thigh. "You look... flushed."

"I'm fine," I said, maybe a little too quickly.

She bit her lip to hide a smile. "You're the one who wanted to be my towel. I just assumed you could handle wet women."

I choked on absolutely nothing.

She smirked.

Lira. Smirked.

I knew that expression. It's the one she used in scenes just before completely dismantling a co-star onscreen. And now, somehow, I was the co-star.

"This is payback," I muttered.

She tilted her head. "For what?"

"For existing like that," I gestured toward her, vaguely, helplessly.

"Like what?" she asked innocently. "Clean?"

"Tempting," I muttered, then instantly regretted it.

Her brows arched. "Interesting choice of words."

I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck and stood up, trying to put distance between us. Big mistake. She followed me, steps light, a predator in silk. Or cotton. Whatever the hell robes were made of.

"You're not scared of me, are you, Mr. CEO?" she whispered behind me.

Goosebumps ran down my spine.

"No," I said too fast.

"No?" she echoed, stepping in front of me, blocking my way.

I didn't move. Couldn't. Her eyes searched mine, and for a second, we just stood there. Inches apart. The air charged. I could smell her shampoo... lavender, I think, and something warmer underneath. Her.

She tilted her chin, confident. "Maybe you should be."

I exhaled a quiet laugh. "What happened to the girl who blushed because I wore a towel?"

"She grew up," Lira said softly, "and realized you blush harder."

Damn it.

I stepped back, only for her to gently tug at the hem of my shirt.

"Relax," she said, teasing. "You can go back to your cold CEO mode now. Ice prince. Emotionless robot. It's only a matter of time before our divorce will be finalised. "

"Shut up," I muttered, lips twitching.

She gave me a wink and walked away toward the living room.

I watched her go.

And for the first time in a long time, I was the one left flustered.

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