The chaos in the lobby churned like a restless sea. Employees clustered in confused groups, security guards rushed in and out of the building, and the constant shrill of the fire alarms hammered through Ariana's skull. Yet somehow, even with all that noise, it felt strangely quiet around her—quiet in a way that made her acutely aware of Damian standing far too close, his voice still echoing inside her chest.
You matter to me more than you should.
Those words clung to her like heat, refusing to loosen. Even now, as the building swarmed with panic, she couldn't look at him without feeling something shift dangerously inside her.
Damian's hand was still lightly on her arm—not a grip, not a command, just an anchor. One he probably didn't even realize he was holding.
"Come with me," he said at last, though his tone wasn't harsh. It was low, urgent.
Ariana nodded, letting him guide her toward a quieter corner of the lobby where fewer people could overhear. He scanned the room sharply, calculating, searching for threats in every face, every movement. His protective instinct was so intense that it almost scared her.
"Security is sweeping the building," he said, keeping his voice low. "But triggering the alarm was a diversion."
"For what?" Ariana asked.
Damian looked at her, eyes dark. "For access."
Her stomach dropped. "You think someone tried to get into my office again?"
"I don't think," he said. "I know."
Ariana felt a shiver crawl up her arms. She hugged herself, trying to hold the pieces of her nerves together. Damian noticed instantly, stepping closer, lowering his voice even more.
"I won't let anything happen to you."
It should've reassured her. Instead, it cracked something inside her—made her feel seen in a way she wasn't prepared for.
Before she could respond, Mr. Harlan jogged over, tablet in hand.
"Sir, we found a second device on the twelfth floor," he said, slightly out of breath. "A signal booster. Someone's been using it to intercept internal communications."
Damian's jaw tightened. "And?"
"And…" Harlan hesitated, glancing at Ariana before continuing. "It was hidden in the ventilation above the old storage room. The login attempt on Ariana's profile came through it."
Ariana sucked in a sharp breath. "So someone's been setting me up from an abandoned floor?"
"Looks like it," Harlan confirmed grimly.
Damian cursed under his breath—a quiet, vicious sound she had never heard from him before.
"Lock the entire floor down. No one goes up there without clearance," Damian ordered.
"Yes, sir." Harlan rushed off again.
The lobby noise swelled louder as more people flooded down the stairs, some irritated, others anxious.
Ariana turned back to Damian. "Why would someone go this far, Damian? Why target me so specifically?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he studied her—really studied her—as though searching for a truth even he wasn't ready to say out loud.
"Because you're close enough to me to be used," he said finally. "Close enough that harming you feels like harming me."
Ariana's breath caught.
And before she could form a response, Damian looked away, as if he'd revealed too much already.
"We're leaving," he said abruptly.
"What? Now? Everyone is still—"
"Now," he repeated. "I'm not keeping you here while someone is hunting through this building."
Ariana hesitated. "Where are we going?"
Damian's expression darkened. "Somewhere safe."
"But I have work—"
"You're done for today."
"But—"
"Ariana." His voice softened, but the resolve in it didn't. "This isn't a request."
Her heartbeat fluttered. She exhaled slowly. "Okay."
He guided her out through a side exit, avoiding the thick crowd pouring through the main doors. His black SUV was parked close, security guards hovering nearby as if waiting for orders.
Damian opened the passenger door for her. Again.
He didn't even think about it.
And she didn't protest this time.
---
The moment the car door shut, the noise of the world dimmed, leaving only her heartbeat reacting wildly to the closeness inside the vehicle. Damian walked around to the driver's side, slipped in, and exhaled deeply—like the weight of everything finally pressed on him now that they were out of sight.
He didn't start the engine.
Not yet.
He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and lowered his head slightly. Ariana watched him in silence, noticing the tension rippling through his shoulders, the hard control in his breathing.
"Damian?" she whispered.
His eyes lifted to hers.
"You're shaking," he said.
She looked down. He was right. Her hands were trembling faintly against her knees.
"I didn't even notice," she murmured.
Damian leaned toward her, his voice dropping. "You're terrified."
"I'm… overwhelmed," she admitted quietly.
He nodded once, then reached out slowly—giving her time to pull back if she wanted—but she didn't. His hand closed gently over hers.
"You're safe now," he said. "With me, you're safe."
Her chest tightened. For a moment, she forgot the alarms, the duplicate ID, the fabricated emails—everything except the warmth of his hand around hers.
But then she whispered, "Damian… what if whoever is doing this isn't just after me? What if they want to hurt the company? Hurt you?"
The muscle in his jaw flexed. "They won't succeed."
"But they're getting bold. Too bold."
"That ends today," he said firmly.
Ariana swallowed. "How?"
Damian released her hand reluctantly and started the engine.
"By not letting them hide anymore."
---
The drive across the city was tense. Damian made several phone calls—low, clipped, authoritative commands that revealed just how seriously he was treating this situation.
"Trace every access point from the twelfth floor."
"Get me a list of all employees with clearance dating back five years."
"Pull Vanessa's digital footprint for the last month."
Ariana stiffened at that last order.
"You still think it might be Vanessa?" she asked quietly when he hung up.
Damian didn't answer immediately. His eyes stayed on the road, dark and unreadable.
"Vanessa is petty. Competitive. Jealous," he said finally. "But espionage? Sabotage at this level? That requires someone smarter."
Ariana frowned. "Then why investigate her?"
"Because she's connected to all of this, directly or indirectly."
"How can you be sure?"
Damian's grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "Because someone warned her."
Ariana's breath caught. "What?"
"When I confronted her the first time, she knew things she shouldn't have. Someone is feeding her information."
"Who?"
"That's what I intend to find out."
Ariana felt a strange chill slide through her. Vanessa had always been a problem—but if she wasn't working alone, then the threat was bigger than Ariana realized.
"Where are we going?" she asked after another silent moment.
Damian's gaze flicked toward her. "To my penthouse."
Her pulse jumped. "Damian—"
"You'll be safe there," he said before she could refuse. "It's secured, monitored, and no one can reach you without going through me."
"I don't want to inconvenience—"
"You're not," he said sharply, then softened. "Ariana… I would never put you somewhere unsafe."
She looked away, her chest tightening again.
You matter to me more than you should.
Those words pulsed in her mind, dangerously close to the truth she wasn't ready to face.
---
Damian's penthouse was nothing like she expected.
She imagined something cold, modern, lifeless. Instead, it felt warm—dark wood, soft lighting, shelves filled with books he probably never talked about, hints of a life he kept hidden from the world.
He guided her inside without hovering but close enough that she felt his presence like a steady pulse behind her.
"Make yourself comfortable," he said. "I'll be right back."
He disappeared down the hallway. Ariana walked deeper into the living room, her eyes tracing every detail. The space felt lived in but also… lonely. Like everything was perfectly placed yet untouched.
She stood near the large floor-to-ceiling windows, staring down at the city far below. Everything looked small—almost insignificant. Except her problems didn't shrink with the view.
She hugged her arms around herself.
"Are you alright?" Damian's voice came from behind her.
She turned slightly. He had removed his suit jacket, sleeves rolled up, and somehow looked even more intimidating—yet more human.
"I'm trying to be," she said.
He approached slowly. "Sit."
She did. He sat beside her, leaving enough space to be appropriate but close enough that she felt surrounded by his calm intensity.
"I've been thinking," Ariana said quietly. "Everything started after the presentation."
"Yes."
"Someone didn't want me to succeed."
"Yes."
"And they knew exactly how to hurt my credibility."
Damian nodded. "Which means it's someone close. Someone who watches you. Studies you."
Ariana looked up. "Someone who wants me out of Blackwood Corp."
"Or someone who wants you far away from me."
Silence fell heavy.
Ariana's breath hitched faintly. "Damian… why would my connection to you provoke someone this much?"
He looked at her—fully, deeply, without any of the walls he usually kept up.
"Because," he said slowly, "I haven't been subtle."
Ariana blinked. "Subtle about what?"
"About you."
Her heart stopped.
Damian leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, eyes locked onto hers.
"I've been too protective. Too involved. Too… present."
Her throat tightened. "That's not your fault."
"No," he agreed. "But it's my responsibility."
She didn't know what to say.
Damian's voice softened. "I should've kept my distance."
Ariana's heart twisted painfully. "Would that have kept me safe?"
"No," he said without hesitation. "It would've just made me miserable."
The honesty in his words stole her breath.
Before she could respond, Damian's phone vibrated sharply. He checked the screen, his expression darkening.
"What is it?" Ariana asked.
"They found something on the twelfth floor," he said.
Her stomach clenched. "What?"
Damian stood slowly, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and calculation.
"A letter," he said. "Addressed to you."
Ariana's blood ran cold.
"A letter?" she whispered.
"Yes." Damian's jaw flexed. "And it was left where they knew security would find it."
"What did it say?"
Damian looked at her, his voice low and dangerous.
"It said: She doesn't belong here. I'm not done with her."
Ariana felt the world tilt.
Her breath quickened, fear clawing slowly up her spine.
Damian stepped toward her instantly, hands on her shoulders, grounding her.
"Look at me," he said softly.
She did.
"You're safe," he whispered. "I won't let anyone touch you."
"Damian—" Her voice trembled. "What if they come after me again? What if they get bolder?"
"Then I'll get bolder too."
His fingers brushed her cheek in a moment of unguarded tenderness—so brief she almost wondered if she imagined it.
But then he said something that froze her completely.
"There's more."
Ariana swallowed. "More?"
Damian nodded slowly.
"The handwriting…" His voice dipped lower, heavier. "The message was written in someone's handwriting we both know."
Her heart raced painfully. "Whose?"
He met her eyes with a look that told her the answer would shatter everything she thought she understood.
"Vanessa's."
The room went still—silent except for Ariana's uneven breathing.
Damian's final words sliced through the air like a blade:
"She's not just jealous, Ariana. She's dangerous."
Ariana's pulse spiraled.
Her world tightened.
And the shadows around her…
closed in even further.