Hearts On The Horizon

Hearts On The Horizon

clarissadebs

5.0
Comment(s)
10
View
18
Chapters

At 28, Clara Fitzgerald is finally on her way up. A small-town girl with big dreams, she's moved to New York City for her shot at success, working as a business analyst for a famous hotel chain. All she has to do is make an impression-and not let anything, or anyone, stand in her way. But then she meets Elliot Grant. Elliot, the heir to Grant Hotels, has been preparing his whole life to run the company. Tradition and family mean everything to him, and he's not about to let an outsider like Clara come in and change it all. She wants to shake things up; he wants to keep things exactly as they are. Clara makes a plan: focus on work, ignore the sparks flying between her and Elliot, and prove herself. She didn't come all this way to get distracted by romance. It sounds simple, but... Can she stand her ground when Elliot argues with her at every turn? Will she risk everything to uncover the truth about a family scandal that could destroy the company? And as things get even more complicated, can she keep her feelings for Elliot out of it? Clara's plans start to crack as she gets closer to Elliot. And soon, she realizes her future at Grant Hotels isn't just about business anymore-it's about risking her heart.

Chapter 1 Welcome to New York

"I'm Here"

My heart raced as the city lights of New York City came into view. Even from the back seat of the taxi, I could feel the energy of the place-busy, alive, and full of opportunity. It was my first night in New York, and I was finally here, ready to make my mark.

I had one year to prove myself. One year to show I had what it took to work for one of the biggest hotel chains in the country. This was my chance. The job was simple: help the Grant Hotel Group modernize, expand, and prepare for the future. But I knew it wasn't just about the work. It was about proving to myself, and to everyone else, that I could make it here.

The taxi pulled up to the Grant Hotel, and I couldn't help but smile. I'd seen pictures of this place a hundred times. The grand entrance, the sparkling glass doors, the golden accents-it was the kind of place I used to dream about working at, back when I was in my small town, trying to figure out how to make it out there. But now, I was standing right in front of it.

Walking inside, I was greeted by the smell of fresh flowers filling the lobby. The ceiling was high, with beautiful chandeliers hanging down, and the floors shone like a mirror. I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. I couldn't look like I didn't belong, not even for a second. I was here to work, to focus. And maybe, if everything went well, to make a name for myself.

After checking in, I headed to my room, taking in every detail around me. Everything in the hotel was perfect. As a business analyst, I knew how much work went into this. Every piece of furniture, every color, every light-someone had made choices about it all. This wasn't just a building; it was an experience. This was what I loved about the industry: the way a hotel could feel like more than just walls and doors.

I dropped my bags in the room and took out my laptop. My first day started tomorrow, but I couldn't wait. I'd heard plenty about the Grant family, especially Elliot Grant, the heir who would one day take over the company. He had a reputation for being careful, traditional, and completely dedicated to the family business. I'd done my research, and I knew he might not welcome my ideas to "modernize" things.

Just as I was settling in, my phone buzzed. It was my boss, Mark.

"Hey, Clara. I know it's late, but we're having a quick welcome meeting with a few of the team members in the lobby. If you're up for it, come down and say hi."

I glanced at the time. I was exhausted, but this was my chance to start building connections.

"I'll be right there," I replied, quickly brushing my hair and putting on a blazer. First impressions mattered, and I couldn't afford to miss this one.

In the lobby, a few people were gathered around a small seating area. Mark waved me over, and I quickly introduced myself to the team-some managers, a marketing director, and a few other staff members. Everyone seemed friendly, curious, and welcoming.

Then I saw him-Elliot Grant himself. He was standing near the bar, talking to someone, but his gaze kept drifting over to our group. Tall, with dark hair and a serious expression, he had that air of someone who was used to being in charge. I tried not to stare, but something about him made it impossible to look away.

Mark noticed my glance and leaned in. "That's Elliot. You'll be working with him on most of the projects. He's... well, he's got high standards, but if you can impress him, you're set."

I nodded, trying to ignore the way my nerves buzzed. I'd faced tough bosses before, but something told me that Elliot Grant was different. This wasn't just any job, and he wasn't just any boss. I was about to say something to Mark when I felt someone step up beside me.

"Clara Fitzgerald, I assume?"

I turned to see Elliot standing there, his gaze sharp and assessing. He didn't smile, didn't offer any kind of warm welcome, just watched me with a look that felt like he was sizing me up.

"Yes, that's me," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Grant."

"Elliot," he corrected, but there was no warmth in his tone. "I hear you'll be working on our modernization project. I hope you're ready for a challenge."

I straightened, meeting his gaze. "Absolutely. I'm here to do my best."

"Good," he said, though his expression didn't soften. "I hope you understand that we have a certain... standard here. My family has worked hard to build this brand, and I'm not interested in seeing it turn into just another trendy hotel chain."

I met his gaze, refusing to back down. "I understand, and I respect that. I'm not here to change everything. I'm here to help make sure the Grant Hotel Group stays relevant and successful."

For a moment, we just looked at each other. I could see the hint of a challenge in his eyes, as if he was daring me to prove myself. Finally, he gave a small nod, almost like he was satisfied with my answer.

"Very well," he said, then turned back to Mark. "Let's make sure she has everything she needs to get started. We don't have time to waste."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving me standing there, a mix of excitement and frustration bubbling inside. He'd barely given me a chance to speak, yet it felt like he was already judging me, expecting me to mess up.

As the meeting wrapped up, I headed back to my room, my mind racing. Elliot Grant was every bit as intense as I'd heard, maybe even more so. But if he thought I was going to back down, he was wrong. I hadn't come all this way to play it safe. I was here to make a difference, even if it meant standing up to him.

Back in my room, I sat by the window, looking out over the city lights. New York felt like a world of possibilities, a place where anything could happen. And as intimidating as Elliot was, I felt a thrill of excitement. This was my shot, my chance to prove myself.

With a determined smile, I closed my laptop, ready to start my journey. I might have just met my toughest challenge yet, but I was ready. Tomorrow, I'd step into the Grant Hotel as more than just the new hire. I'd step in as the woman who was ready to make her mark.

Continue Reading

You'll also like

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Jessica C. Dolan
4.9

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

SHANA GRAY
4.3

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

SHANA GRAY
4.5

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book