Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

H olden's breath misted in the crisp morning air as he walked Angela to her office. The city was still slumbering in a post-holiday languor. The tendrils of daylight were just beginning to tease the horizon, painting a soft glow on Angela's face. He couldn't help but admire how the early sun kissed her dark hair with hints of amber, making it look like she had stolen fire from the gods themselves.

"Thank you for the holidays," Angela said.

The sound of her voice was a melodic whisper that sent a shiver down his spine, not from the cold but from the warmth spreading through his chest. "The pleasure was all mine... and yours too, I hope?"

Her answer was a tilt of her head. Holden responded by taking her lips with his. When their mouths met, it was in a kiss that was as tender as it was a promise—a silent conversation between two souls conversing in the language of touch and taste. It was the kind of kiss that said more than words ever could, full of unspoken confessions and desires bared only inside of an embrace.

Holden wanted to tell this woman all of his secrets. And he would. In time. He had things to take care of first.

"Good luck with your resignation today," Angela said as they broke the kiss. "I know it's not an easy step, but I believe in what you're doing—what we're doing."

"Good luck with your meeting. I believe in you." He tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear before watching her disappear into the building that housed her world of creations.

As Holden turned away, he let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle onto his shoulders. Walking through the awakening city, he let his mind wander, the snarky voice inside him taking a rare break, replaced by a sense of purpose that had been absent for far too long. For once, he wasn't just the man with the infamous dick; he was a man with a vision—a future wrapped in the sensuous folds of Angela's belief in him. He just needed people to tilt the camera up to his head and see that he had another one on top of his body.

His family might have turned their backs, bitter judgment echoing in the hollows of missed calls and unopened messages, but Angela—brilliant, beautiful Angela—she saw him for who he was beyond the skin-deep glory and the carnal fame. She valued his thoughts, sought his insights, and took joy in his ambitions for something more meaningful in the adult film industry. Together, they dreamed of films that celebrated women, that kindled desires with grace and intensity, that told stories which resonated with truth rather than just flesh. All starring her line of toys for men and women.

The holiday excitement, a feeling so foreign to Holden, fluttered in his chest like a newfound muse. The festive cheer that once felt like chains now seemed liberating with Angela by his side. Each decoration lingering in shop windows, each leftover strand of tinsel glinting in the light, whispered of a life less ordinary—a life where passion and intimacy didn't just exist behind closed doors or beneath the scrutinizing lens of a camera.

He was calm when he entered the production office. The crunch of his boots on the polished floor as he navigated the familiar hallways of the porn company's headquarters wasn't a death march; it was an advance. But first he had to do an about face. Today, these walls felt constricting, the air thick with scents of musk and artificial sweetness, but he was ready to break free.

As he pushed open the door to the director's office, expecting vacant chairs and the echo of his own resignation, Holden's gaze locked on to the unexpected sight of Kendra. She lounged behind the massive desk, her legs endless and clad in skin-tight leather, crossed provocatively.

"Late for your own farewell party, Holden?" Her voice slithered through the room like silk over bare skin, snark dripping from every syllable.

"Where's Roland? I have some things to discuss with him.”

"He's on set. I told him I'd wait for you and prep you for our scene today."

"I'm not doing a scene today. I'm handing in my resignation. I'm done here."

"I don't think so, Tighe."

"It's not your decision, James."

But Kendra only smirked, a predator baring teeth at the scent of dismay. She leaned forward, and there, cradled in her manicured hands, was his video camera—the one that safeguarded moments meant for no one else's eyes but his and Angela's.

"Done? Oh, darling, you're far from it." Kendra's blue eyes glinted with malice as she toyed with the device. "You see, this little gem holds some pretty... intimate performances. It'd be such a shame if it went public."

The blood in Holden's veins turned to ice. That footage—the raw passion and vulnerability shared between him and Angela. It was sacred to him. It was career and personal suicide for Angela if it got out. The thought of anyone else witnessing their private connection was intolerable.

"Let's make a deal, Holden." Kendra's voice dripped honey laced with venom. "You star in a series of rough sex videos with me, and your little home movie stays our dirty little secret."

Holden's fists clenched, the muscles in his jaw working furiously. He wanted to snatch the camera, to obliterate the recording, but he knew the game Kendra played—she would have backups.

"Kendra, you don’t have to do this," he said, attempting reason where he knew there was none.

"Have to? No." She stood, prowling closer, the scent of her perfume wrapping around him like a vise. "Want to? Absolutely." She traced a finger along his arm, feigning tenderness when all he felt was revulsion. "Think of it as... one last romp for old time’s sake."

Holden stared at the camera, the weight of his decision heavy on his chest. There was so much more at stake than just a video—it was about protecting the woman who saw beyond Holden Tighe, the porn star, to the man who yearned for more than just flesh, the man who dared to dream of a future where love and respect were the real headliners.

"One?" he asked.

"Yeah, just one."

He didn't believe her. But what choice did he have? Expose himself or expose Angela. The only real choice was to let Angela go.

He shouldn't have touched her in the first place. Not with his dirty hands. To think that she would pay for his mistakes—no. Just no. But he had to stall Kendra first before he could enact his plan.

"Fine," Holden gritted out, despising the taste of defeat on his tongue. "But this is where it ends, Kendra."

Her laugh, sharp and cold, echoed off the walls as she set the terms of their sordid bargain. As Holden left the office with the heaviness of the choice he'd made settling into his bones, he promised himself that no matter what, he’d shield Angela from the darkness of this world—even if it meant stepping back into the shadows himself.