Chapter 3
I couldn't breathe.
The atmosphere in the room felt thicker, crackling with something I didn't want to call by name. I told myself it was frustration, anger, the lingering humiliation of having been thrust into this absurd job.
But I knew better.
The ghost of Damien's touch lingered on my fingertips. His deep, taunting voice still echoes in my head.
Careful, Elena. You're participating in a game you don't even know the rules of.
I shook at the thought of it and forced myself to focus. This wasn't a game. This was survival.
I endured this for three months. Then I could walk away.
I grabbed the pen that he had handed me and took notes, even though I didn't really know what I was writing.
Damien was already back at work at the desk, calm and unbothered as ever. It infuriated me.
I hated that he had crawled under my skin.
I hated that he had all the power, and that I had none.
I bit my lip, my grip on the pen tightening. "Are you always like this?"
He didn't even glance up. "Like what?"
"Controlling. Arrogant. Infuriating."
That got his attention. His icy blue gaze drifted towards my face, a glimmer of amusement crossing his sharp features.
"Yes," he said simply.
I scowled. "That wasn't a compliment."
"I know." The tiniest smirk played on his lips. "But I don't want compliments, Elena. I need results. And you're wasting time at this moment."
My grip on the pen tightened. "You are impossible."
"And you are still speaking instead of working."
I sucked in air, suppressing the impulse to throw something at him.
Instead, I made myself concentrate on the papers before me. I didn't care whether I understood them—I just had to look busy.
Damien chuckled softly. "I can almost hear you gritting your teeth from over here."
I shot my head up to glare at him. "You enjoy this, don't you?"
"Immensely."
His truthfulness took me by surprise.
He wasn't even trying to be a good person. He was shamelessly cold-blooded, unapologetically pompous, and somehow that ignited an even greater fury within me.
I leaned my arms back and crossed them on my chest. "Why did you bring me to this place?"
His gaze darkened slightly. "You owe me."
I shook my head. "No. That's just an excuse. You could have just had me blow out the cash for your stupid suit. But instead, you chose this."
He didn't answer right away.
For a long moment, he simply looked at me, his expression inscrutable.
Then finally he said, 'Because I was curious.'
That threw me off. "Curious?"
He never looked away from my face as his fingers tapped lightly against the top of the desk. "It's not so easy, Elena, to be challenged by someone. Even less frequently than they dare to defy me."
My stomach tightened.
All of a sudden, I felt like I was walking a very precarious line, one that I wasn't sure I could cross without tumbling.
I gave a forced laugh, doing my best to dispel the sense of dread creeping into me. "So this is what? A game for you?"
Damien's facade didn't waver.
But his voice dropped lower. Darker.
"I don't play games, Elena."
A chill ran down my spine.
For the first time since I'd known him, I believed him.
Damien Blackwood wasn't some rich, entitled CEO.
He was something much more dangerous.
And I had just blundered into his world.
I don't know how long we looked at one another.
The silence thickened between us, suffocating, but I couldn't look away. There was something about Damien's eyes, something unreadable and dangerous and utterly, impossibly intense.
I knew I should back down.
I should keep my head down, swallow my pride and do my job.
But I didn't.
Instead, I squared my shoulders and met his stare. You say you don't play games, but you're playing with me. That's exactly what this is."
His lips twitched, the shadow of a smirk. "Toying with you? Elena, you have an inflated sense of self."
I made fists with my fingers under the table. "Then why am I here?"
"You know the answer already."
I shook my head. "No. You could've let this go. You could've gone your own way, bought another suit, and continued living your perfect life. But you didn't."
Damien reclined in his chair, his pale blue eyes unwavering. "You want the truth?"
"Yes."
"Fine." There was danger in how low his voice had gone. "You were an inconvenience. A mistake. "And I don't suffer fools."
A sharp pang coursed through me, but I didn't know why. What had I expected? A confession? An apology?
I swallowed the knot in my throat. "So this is about control?"
His lips curved slightly. "It's all about control."
I exhaled sharply. "You're insane."
"And yet, you're still here."
I started to argue, but… he was right.
I was still here.
"I could've walked away. "I could've said no to coming. But I hadn't. And the worst part? I didn't know why.
Perhaps because I had no choice.
Or perhaps it was something much more harmful.
I didn't get to say much else before the office phone rang.
Damien didn't even turn to it. "Answer it."
I blinked. "What?"
He arched his brow. "You're my assistant, right?"
I sighed impatience and picked up the phone, pressing it into my ear. "Blackwood Enterprises, I'm—"
"Elena?"
I froze.
That voice.
Cold. Familiar. A voice I hadn't heard in decades.
My heart dropped.
"Didn't expect to see you there," said the man on the other end, who chuckled, except it wasn't a warm chuckle.
A chill ran through me.
No. No, no, no.
I gripped the phone tighter. "What do you want?"
Damien's gaze snapped toward me, his expression sharpening in an instant.
He ignored my question, the man on the phone. So tell me, Elena, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?
My breath came shallow. My chest felt tight. This wasn't happening.
"Elena." Damien's voice was steady, but his eyes were knifed. Demanding. "Who is it?"
My throat parched, I swallowed hard.
Then I hung up, my fingers shaking.
Silence.
Damien watched me for a long minute. Then, gradually, he got up and ambled around the desk, planting himself right in front of me.
"Elena." His tone was lower now, more subdued. "Who was that?"
I looked away. "No one."
Damien's jaw ticked. "Don't lie to me."
My stomach turned in knots as I bit my lip.
If he found out—if whoever that was found out—everything would unravel.
I couldn't let that happen.
So I did what I could do.
I sat up, pretended to smile, and looked him right in the eye. "It was just the wrong number."
His gaze darkened.
And at that moment, I knew
He didn't believe me