A tapestry of brake lights lit up the streets of London. The hoards of tourists dispersing for the day and in their place the party-goers, the late-night wanderers and the families catching a show. The Friday night energy of London pulsating underneath his feet and yet he felt no desire to be a part of it; the sticky warmth of summer nights in London were more stifling than any other time of year. The superficial allure of the capital city held no charm for him and so relaxing into his plush leather chair he let his mind wander, feeling grateful that the office was finally silent. His staff at home with loved ones - evacuating the city for the weekend until their return on Monday.

Surveying the city from his penthouse Park Lane office, Fitzwilliam Darcy sighed, he longed for his own freedom. Freedom that only came in the form of grass beneath his toes, running water trickling through the stream and clean air filling his lungs. God, how he missed Pemberley.

Pemberley, his family estate in Derbyshire, was surrounded by acres of manicured parks, crystal lakes and untended bridal paths; his heart ached to be there again. Yet despite the estate being exceptionally maintained it remained unvisited by family or friends. It was well cared for like a much-loved grandparent, but it was uninhabited, save for the maintenance team who worked on it throughout the year, to prevent the ills that befall an ageing property - mould, damp, dust and ruin. Dreams of retiring early to the Peaks were long gone.

The precarious financial position nearly all markets were in meant Fitzwilliam felt he could barely leave the office, let alone the county. He felt the burden of responsibility to ensure his company dArta Software continued to drive revolutionary growth. Since he was a little boy he had been determined to build an empire that surpassed any tech company past or present, so far he was succeeding and he wasn't going to stop now. dArta Software had been built from one boy's vision: now it needed a man to navigate the choppy waters.

Since Fitzwilliam's' father had passed away eight years ago, he had thrown himself into work. Working tirelessly to build a global empire out of a small UK based software company, that he had started in his bedroom at the tender age of 8. For 22 years Darcy had been striving to make his father proud, the words of wisdom that the late Mr Darcy had imparted on his death bed had haunted him every day since his passing.

'Son' the late Mr Darcy had said, 'I had hoped I would live long enough to see a day when I would be proud to call you my son and leave you with the Darcy name, but it seems I am departing this world too soon. You have never cast your own shadow in the world and for this I am truly sorry. Since your mother died I have raised you and Georgiana terribly but know that although I have failed you I have always loved you. I hope that one day someone will be more precious to you than you ever thought possible. I hope one day you will have your heartbroken because to have your heart broken is to truly experience love; the day your mother died I did too. Do not ever become a selfish man like me; your mother wouldn't have wanted that. Never fail Fitzwilliam and you will always get what you deserve.'

Just remembering how his father's eyes had stared into his soul on that day sent chills down his spine.

Fitzwilliam jumped to his feet and shook out his arms and legs to rid himself of the depression that seeped into his bones. He stared out the window once again, taking in the black cabs and buses lined up at the traffic lights below; he smiled thinking that it was human for everyone to want to get ahead, even in traffic. Cyclists darted between cars and inebriated souls fumbled along the streets gesticulating manically at the person across the street. Towering above one of the most densely populated and vibrant cities in the world, he thought back on his father's words and said out loud, "Are you proud now dad?"

'Pardon me Darcy, am I interrupting?' A handsome straggly blonde haired man lounged against the doorway, confidently smiling as he closed the ornate oak doors behind him, locking out the outside world.

Charles Bingley was the Marketing Director for dArta software and Darcy's best friend, albeit his only friend. He was kind and most importantly, loyal; great qualities to have in an employee and friend.

"Charles, I never look forward to you entering my office, it happens on very rare occasions and more often than not I have to end up dipping into my pocket. Did Reynolds say you could enter?" Darcy smiled at his friend as he moved back to his desk and slinked back into his chair, glancing at the clock Darcy realised that it was 13:12, which meant he was 12 minutes behind schedule so after he was done inwardly admonishing himself for allowing time for reverie he surveyed Charles with a raised eyebrow, prompting him to reveal his reason for disturbing the great wizard.

"Reynolds, of course she did, she even offered me a drink' Charles said glancing at his watch 'I expect it will be here in a minute." Leaning back into the chair opposite Darcy's he raised his hands behind his head, interlocking his fingers in his mass of blonde curls and raised his feet onto the corner of Darcy's mahogany desk, raising an eyebrow as he did it baiting his friend. "I distinctly seem to remember you promising to join me for birthday drinks over the weekend, I even remember agreeing to attend one of your favourite fancy restaurants as a pre-cursor to a night of partying but lo and behold it's past midday on Monday and the only thing I've heard from you in three days is that your calling a meeting on Thursday to discuss the acquisition of some Japanese based CRM software company. Come on Darcy it's not every day I turn 28."

Darcy cleared his throat waiting for his friend to finish. "Life will be the same for you at 28 as it was at 27, do not fear my friend it will even be the same at 29 however, take consolation in the fact that when you are 30 I will be sure to send you an exquisite bottle of port." Darcy smiled, folding his arms across his chest, wrinkling his crisp white Armani shirt at the elbows.

Charles laughed heartily enjoying their repartee, "Well seen as you do not seem to recollect your gift buying habits because you have so many friends maybe I should remind you that you just me a bottle of vintage port for my 28th therefore, I am expecting something much grander for the BIG 30. Perhaps I should supply Reynolds with my gift list early so she can memo you in advance; do you think it would work if I asked for a yacht."

Game, Set and Match to Mr Bingley. 'Damn Reynolds' Darcy thought 'after least year's Christmas present fiasco with the two Laura's I thought I had expressly told her to leave me a note about what presents I have bought.'

"Charles have you really come here to admonish me for getting my secretary to buy your gifts because if so I have heard there is an invention called email, you should try it some time and send me your witty comments so that I might enjoy them all day. Now get to the point of your visit to the top floor." Darcy was seething inside, he hated being made to feel like a fool and secretly he hated that he knew he was such a terrible friend; it bugged him even more that as of late he had whole heartedly rejected and pushed away even a most beloved sister in favour of building the business.

Charles sighed, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees and his hands propped up his chin. "Darcy, I would like to hire another event's agency to organise our AGM."

"As our marketing director, I thought you would be capable of making that decision all by yourself surely you do not need my approval."

"No but I would like it all the same, it hasn't escaped my attention that you always seemed rather fond of the one we have, I have detected a slight preference on your part towards them since our AGM two years ago."

Darcy felt like he had been whipped across the back with a barbed razor, he knew it was coming but he had not expected that his friend would be so observant to notice his preferences for their external events agency; especially considering he had nothing to do with the day-to-day marketing.

For two years Darcy had been harbouring a desire for the sensual raven haired beauty, with the keen eyes and brilliant smile that had worked for the events agency and enticed him, hook line and sinker, at the conference. Although he had been surrounded be thousands of eager employees vying for his attention, over eager reporters waiting for him to slip up and pesky fortune hunters that wanted his black Amex he had been absorbed into her world for a short period of time and he had enjoyed every minute of his time with her.

A nauseous feeling bubbled in his stomach every time he thought about the fact that after the event she just disappeared; the events agency had informed him that following the event the striking beauty had unexpectedly resigned and the forwarding address they gave him had led him to a dead end apartment in Kensington. He could still remember every line on the face of the woman that had dashed his dreams when he had gone to the apartment, she was about 5ft 8in with sun kissed blonde hair, a small scar ran across her left eyebrow and she had a slim frame and an obvious beauty about her but it was not his Venus. 'I'm afraid no one lives here by that name' Her final words still sat with him on his darkest days 'I hope you find what you are looking for' the compassionate look she gave him as a he sloped off dejected and alone had stayed with him in his nightmares every day since. For months afterwards he had searched for her but she was never to be found, she was a none entity; the only proof he had that Emily Benefit had ever existed was the mark she left on his infallible heart.

"Darce, real world, are you okay for me to tender the event?" Charles clicked his fingers in front of Darcy's face, with a playful smile dancing across his lips.

Coming back to reality Darcy scrutinised him for a second before opening his mouth "Do whatever you have to Charles, I really don't have time to waste and neither do you according to our marketing analytics information." Charles nodded his head and sensed that that was his cue to leave his boss in peace; rising from his chair he exited the room leaving a thank you card on Darcy's desk for the port.

Once again in his own fortress of solitude Darcy recoiled at how his words had affected Charles, it had been a low blow to bring up Bingley's work but he soothed his conscience by reasoning that you can't please everyone a 100% of the time and he is the boss, Charles deserved to be put in his place from time to time. Darcy was not willing to admit that the real reason he'd scorned his friend was because the events agency had been the last tangible link he had to the woman that had melted his austere expressions and broken his heart without ever looking back.

Authors note:

Sorry guys I have done a bit of tinkering about with the above chapter and ironed out some obvious spelling errors (thank you for highlighting those it was just sloppiness on my part) finally rounding it off better. If you've got some time give it a read through again while I work on the next chapter.