Someone opened the door, waking Damien from his sleep.
"Get out," he muttered, eyes still closed.
Silence.
He stretched, got out of bed naked and walked into the bathroom. The marble tiles were cold under his feet until he turned on the tap.
Outside the door, Clara cleared her throat. "Sir, your meeting is in an hour. Ms. Lily called to remind you, and said she was on her way."
He didn't answer.
Clara placed a tray beside the bed: black coffee, his phone, and the file he'd left lying around, then disappeared down the hall.
Damien finally emerged from the bathroom in a towel.
He walked straight to the window, ignoring the tray.
Moments later a knock came.
"Come in."
Lily entered with folders in her hand. Her dress was businesslike. Pale blue with sharp pleats, hair pinned back. Efficient.
"Good morning Damien," she said, not waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. "I've confirmed your lunch with Mr. Reyes. Your call with the Tokyo office has been moved to seven. And the security report from last night came in, you'll want to read it."
Damien finally looked at her. "Did I ask for any of that this morning?"
"No. But if I waited for your permission, nothing would get done." She set the folders down. "Also, your father called. Twice."
"I don't care."
"He said to call him back. Then hung up."
Damien smirked, sipping his coffee. "Anything else?"
She hesitated. "Yes. The woman from last week, she called three times. She used the word urgent."
He snorted. "Delete her number."
"Already did."
Julian leaned back against the window. "That's why I keep you."
"Because I delete your mistakes?"
"No, because you're efficient."
She didn't flinch. "Your ten o'clock tomorrow is with the senator's wife. Do I cancel it again, or will you behave?"
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "Define 'behave.'"
She gave him a cool smile. "In a way that won't land us in another tabloid scandal."
A beat of silence passed between them.
"Don't be late," she added, turning on her heel and walking out.
Damien watched her go, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
Lily was smart.
Calculated.
Completely immune to him.
Damien Blackwood, the name the public knew, wasn't particularly fond of his role as CEO of TechSphere, the largest tech company in the U.S.
It was a subsidiary of the Grant empire.
Blackwood was his mother's name, one he adopted for convenience and distance.
His real name, however, was Damien Harrison Grant III. A name drenched in old money, politics, and the kind of family legacy he wanted no part of. He preferred to keep it buried, at least for now.
And although he often appeared at events on his father's behalf, most people assumed he was just another executive under the powerful Grant empire. He didn't correct them.
He set his coffee down, and crossed to the desk.
He checked his email for the security report.
New email: URGENT — PROJECT KESTREL LEAK.
His jaw tightened. Kestrel was his biggest acquisition deal this quarter, and the only one not yet finalized. He opened the file. Confidential reports. Negotiation drafts. Even internal memos — all leaked to a rival firm.
Someone inside TechSphere had sold them out.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing,
....
Ava opened her eyes slowly. It had been an eventful engagement party. Her head still throbbed faintly, a reminder of too much champagne and too many cameras.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with notifications. She couldn't believe the headlines.
Ava Montclair Stuns in White: The Fiancée Everyone's Talking About.
From Wallflower to Showstopper: Ava Montclair's Dazzling Engagement Debut.
Vaughn Heir's Bride-to-Be Steals the Spotlight at Lavish Engagement Party.
Ava's thumb brushed the screen and a new message popped up. It was from Mark.
"Last night was perfect. You looked beautiful. Call me when you wake."
Her stomach tightened. She had expected something worse — fake compliments, possessive messages, the usual. But this one was almost sweet. Too sweet to be real.
She set the phone on the bed and stared at the text. If she reacted like the old Ava — flustered, grateful, apologetic — she'd lose leverage. If she ignored him entirely, he might grow suspicious. Both choices were weapons, if used right.
She tapped a reply, then erased it.
Then she typed: "Thanks. I'll call this evening, got a few things to sort."
This was short, it would do for now.
She hit send, then locked the phone and placed it on the drawer. Then she took out a small notebook. It was time to take control of her life. To start building a future that wasn't dictated by Mark's whims, and in the process, save her life and that of Emily.
Slowly she began to map out a plan. Well she didn't actually have a plan, but she had to start somewhere.
She wrote down everything she could think of. Every loophole she could use. Names. Dates. Companies. Legal angles and back channels. Who to charm, who to ruin, who to keep close.
Then she wrote a list of possible allies.
She underlined a name – Eleanor Vaughn, Mark's aunt – and made a mental note to reach out. She was one of the few who genuinely cared about her in her previous life.
Perhaps there was an ally there, or at least someone who could provide valuable insight.
Ding. Another notification. She picked up her phone, and her heart skipped a beat.
It was a photo of Damien — taken last night at the party. The shot caught the moment he sat taking a drink at the bar.
For a moment, she just stared at it. He was really good looking.
Then a thought struck her... She shook her head to clear it.
"No. That would be insane."
But the thought lingered, refusing to leave, teasing at the edges of her mind like a spark waiting to catch fire.
Then, without thinking, she added his name to the list of possible allies.
Damien Blackwood.
She hesitated for half a second… then circled it.
"Ava?"
She jumped slightly, snapping the notebook shut. Emily's voice drifted from behind her, light and teasing. "Planning world domination already? Or is that your wedding to-do list?"