I sank into the plush leather chair across from Damien’s desk, my mind still reeling from the reception downstairs. The office matched his status - floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city, while modern art pieces adorned the walls. A massive mahogany desk dominated the space, its surface pristine except for a sleek laptop and a single fountain pen.
My fingers traced the armrest, the leather cool against my skin. The crowd at the entrance flashed through my mind - all those people, standing at attention, their faces a mix of reverence and anticipation. The way they’d parted like the Red Sea when Damien approached. Even the board mbers, powerful figures in their own right, had shown such deference.
"Would you like so water?" Damien’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I nodded, watching as he pressed a button on his desk. Within seconds, his assistant appeared with two glasses of water on a silver tray. The efficiency was startling - another reminder of the power he wielded.
"Thank you," I murmured, taking a sip. The cold water helped ground , but I couldn’t shake the image of those employees. Their pressed suits, perfect postures, eager expressions - all for one man. Madison’s words echoed in my head: he answers to no one.
I glanced at Damien, who was reviewing sothing on his laptop. Here, in his domain, he radiated authority. It wasn’t just his tailored suit or commanding presence - it was the knowledge that hundreds of people downstairs waited on his decisions, hung on his words. The man who’d helped pick out a dress was also the man who controlled a corporate empire.
The contrast made my head spin. I took another sip of water, trying to reconcile these two versions of Damien Stone - the gentle, attentive man who’d noticed my forgotten purse, and the powerful CEO who commanded such respect from an army of employees.
"Sir, soone is here to see you," Damien’s assistant announced from the entrance of his office, her posture perfectly professional as she waited for his response. I continued sipping my cold water, trying to appear casual despite my racing thoughts. "It’s Drake from Remouris Fashion Company."
The mont those words left her lips, I inhaled sharply, taking in too much water at once. The liquid went down the wrong way, and I started coughing violently, my throat burning with the effort to clear it. My eyes watered as I tried to regain my composure, painfully aware of how undignified I must look.
Damien imdiately turned his attention away from his laptop, his dark eyes filled with genuine concern as he studied my face. "Are you okay?" he asked, his deep voice gentle with worry. He half-rose from his chair, as if ready to co to my aid.
"Yea, yea I’m fine, don’t mind ," I managed to say with what I hoped was a reassuring smile, though my voice was still a bit raspy. I waved my hand dismissively, trying to downplay my reaction even as my heart hamred in my chest at the thought of Drake being so close.
"Let him in," Damien said as he stood up and offered one of his pristinely folded white napkins with genuine concern. My stomach churned as Drake walked through the doorway, his confident stride faltering slightly when he entered. "Damien, it has been a wh-" But before he could finish his sentence, his green eyes widened and his jaw went slack as he caught sight of , his ex-wife, sitting there in the office. The familiar scent of his expensive cologne hit like a wave, bringing back mories I’d rather forget. I could see the color drain from his perfectly composed face as our eyes t, and the tension in the room beca thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Give a mont," Damien’s deep voice rumbled as he leaned on the table, his long legs pressing against mine. I could feel the soft fabric of his sleek black pants brushing against my bare skin, sending shivers down my spine. The touch of his knee against mine sent an electric current through my body, and I fought to maintain my composure. I knew I should move away, create so distance, but I found myself frozen, my heart pounding in my chest. The air felt thick with anticipation, and I could sense Damien’s presence so close to , his intense focus and power filling the space between us.
The tension in the room was palpable as Damien’s usually gentle voice took on a more direct edge. "What can I do for you today, Drake?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"As I ntioned to your assistant, I’m here to discuss potential investnt opportunities for my company." Drake’s gaze shifted between and Damien, his annoyance growing more apparent as we remained in close proximity. I could sense his discomfort, but Damien seed unbothered, his intense focus never wavering.
I felt a spark of defiance as I held my ground, refusing to be the one to break the intimate contact. A part of wanted to see how Drake would react, to test the limits of his patience and composure. Little did he know, this was Damien’s world, and we were rely players in his ga.
"Hmm, intriguing," Damien mused, his smile gentle yet sharp. "You still believe I’d consider investing in your company after the fiasco at your wedding." The air in the room grew heavy and tense, as if the very oxygen was being sucked out. It felt like a lion toying with a trapped sheep—a powerful predator with his prey cornered.
"Please reconsider, we need this money or els we can not survive the coming year." Drake said as he kept pleading his case to Damien.
The tension was suffocating as Damien slowly leaned back from the counter, his soft suit brushing against as he moved, his movents calculated, a predator circling his prey. He ca to stand behind , his presence engulfing. My heart quickened as his hand rested on the back of my chair, his touch firm but gentle. In one fluid motion, he spun to face Drake, and I found myself staring at my ex-husband, his eyes wide with surprise.
"Ella will be the new team leader for the fashion branch of my company," Damien announced, his tone brooking no argunt. My mind reeled; I struggled to process his words, their implications hanging in the air like unspoken questions. "Because of your desire to rge with Elysian Threads, she’ll handle all financial matters pertaining to your company."
My breath caught in my throat as the weight of his declaration settled on . Team leader...handle financial matters...Drake’s investnt. I couldn’t help but glance at Drake, wondering how he would respond. His face had drained of all color, his eyes flicking between and Damien. I sensed his wheels turning, weighing his options, the prospect of financial ruin hovering over him like a guillotine.
"Do you agree, or shall I direct my investnts elsewhere?" Damien’s voice cut through the stifling silence, his words deliberate, sharp. I could almost taste Drake’s desperation as he stood there, his eyes pleading, his mouth opening and closing as if the right words evaded him.
"Y-yes, of course," Drake stamred, his composure crumbling under the pressure of Damien’s intense gaze. "I agree to your terms." He extended his hand toward Damien, his eyes darting to only briefly before dropping his gaze to the floor. "Let’s work together for our mutual benefit."
I held my breath, afraid to move, afraid to speak, as if the slightest action might shatter the delicate balance in the room. Damien’s hand rested on my chair, his touch a silent reassurance. I felt the tension in his body, the unspoken promises, and threats lurking beneath his calm exterior. In that mont, I saw him for who he truly was—a powerful man used to getting what he wanted.
And I suddenly realized with stunning clarity, that I wanted him to want . I could feel his power, his intensity, his unwavering pursuit of his desires. And in that vulnerable, powerful mont, I knew that I was one of them.
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