The night air was cold as Ava stepped out of the car and walked toward her apartment building. The dinner had been... strange, yet calming. Damien had been less guarded than usual, and for a few fleeting moments, she'd almost forgotten what stood between them.
But now the silence felt too still. Too expectant.
She glanced around. The street was unusually empty, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.
Her hand gripped her keys tighter as she approached the front entrance. That was when she saw them, two figures lurking by the stairwell. One leaned against the brick wall, the other sat casually on the hood of a parked car, arms crossed. Neither looked friendly.
Ava hesitated. Her breath caught.
"Evening, Miss Morgan," one of them called, the tone mockingly polite. "Going somewhere?"
She didn't respond. Just tried to push past, but one of them moved to block her path.
"You think you can just show up in the spotlight without paying the price?" the other sneered. "You humiliated someone very powerful."
Ava's heart dropped. "I don't know who you think..."
A hand grabbed her wrist.
"You don't belong with him," the man growled. "You're not one of us. You're nothing."
She struggled, tried to yank free, but their grip only tightened. Panic surged. She opened her mouth to scream , and just then headlights flared across the alley.
A sleek black car screeched to a halt beside them, and Damien Wolfe emerged like a phantom cut from shadow. He didn't shout. He didn't ask questions. He moved like a storm.
His first punch landed square in the jaw of the man who held Ava. The second barely gave the other time to react. It was fast, brutal, and over in seconds. The two men were left groaning on the pavement as Damien turned to Ava, breath sharp, expression unreadable.
"You're hurt?" he asked, scanning her face.
Ava shook her head, her body trembling. "No. Just... shaken I guess."
Damien pulled her close, wrapping a protective arm around her. "This shouldn't have happened."
"Who were they?" she whispered, still staring at the collapsed figures on the ground.
Damien's jaw clenched. "A message. From my mother."
Ava stiffened. "Your mother sent people to attack me?"
"She doesn't appreciate being blindsided." His voice was cold now. "And she's not used to not getting her way."
"Is she always like this?"
Damien looked down at her, eyes dark. "Worse. You were lucky tonight."
Ava pulled away slightly, searching his face. "Is this what your life looks like, Damien? Secrets, threats, bruises?"
He didn't answer right away."It's the price of power. You never really own it. It owns you." he muttered.
***
Later that night, Ava lay on Damien's penthouse couch, wrapped in a soft cashmere throw. He had insisted she stay over at his place. "just for safety," he'd said.
She couldn't sleep. Not after what happened. Not after seeing the lengths people would go just to control Damien Wolfe's life.
As she stared at the glittering skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows, she realized something frightening.
She was already in too deep.
***
Meanwhile, in his private office across the hall, Damien stood alone, watching her on the security monitor, her frame small, fragile, curled on his couch.
He didn't like this feeling in his chest. He'd brought her into his life to win a deal, control a narrative. Not to protect. Not to care.
But tonight, when he saw her being manhandled, something had snapped. It wasn't business anymore. It was personal.
He reached for his phone and sent one message to his mother:
> >If you touch her again, you'll lose more than your name. Stay out of it.
Then, for a long while, he simply stood there, watching Ava sleep.
He didn't know what they were becoming, but whatever it was, it was already rewriting the rules.