Sophie's POV
I arrived at Conference Room A at 2:58 PM, determined to be early and professional.
Damien was already there.
He sat at the head of the table, reviewing documents with that intense focus I remembered from the hotel—the way he'd listened to every word I said like it mattered. Now that focus was aimed at quarterly reports instead of my pain, and somehow that hurt worse than his coldness.
Ms. Mitchell. He didn't look up. Take a seat.
I chose the chair furthest from him. Maya arrived seconds later, followed by Robert and David. They chatted easily about projects and deadlines while I sat frozen, hyperaware of Damien's presence.
Let's begin, Damien said, finally looking up. His eyes swept across the team and landed on me for half a second before moving away. We have a potential acquisition that needs strategic assessment. Mitchell, since you're new, I want your fresh perspective.
My mouth went dry. Sir?
The target company is hemorrhaging money but has valuable patents. Robert will send you the files. I want your analysis by Friday. His tone was crisp, professional, giving nothing away. Think you can handle that?
It was a test. I could see it in the slight tightening around his eyes, the way he waited for my response like he expected me to crumble.
Yes, sir, I said, meeting his gaze directly. I'll have it on your desk Thursday.
Something flickered in his expression—surprise? approval?—before the ice returned. See that you do.
The meeting continued with technical discussions about market positioning and competitive threats. I took notes, hyper-focused on appearing competent, but every cell in my body was aware of Damien.
The way his fingers tapped against his pen when he was thinking. The slight furrow between his brows when someone said something stupid. The controlled power in his voice when he disagreed with an analysis.
This was the man who'd whispered broken confessions in the dark. Who'd held me like I was precious. Who'd searched for me for three weeks.
And now he looked at me like I was just another employee. Useful. Disposable. Nothing special.
Maya, your projection model needs work, Damien said, his voice sharp. The assumptions are too optimistic. Redo it with realistic growth rates.
Maya's face flushed. Yes, sir. I'll have revisions by tomorrow.
Make it tonight. This presentation is critical. He turned to David. Your competitive analysis missed three major players. How did that happen?
David stammered an excuse, but Damien cut him off. I don't want excuses. I want accuracy. Fix it.
The room had gone tense. This was the Ice King everyone warned about—ruthless, demanding, accepting nothing less than perfection.
Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at it and his expression darkened. Excuse me. I need to take this.
He left the conference room, and everyone exhaled.
Jesus, Robert muttered. He's in a mood today.
When isn't he? Maya said. But seriously, Sophie, getting assigned a project in your first meeting? That's either really good or he's setting you up to fail.
Thanks for the confidence, I said dryly.
I'm just saying, be careful. Mr. Ross doesn't give second chances.
Through the glass walls, I could see Damien pacing in his office, phone pressed to his ear, his expression thunderous. Whatever the call was about, it wasn't good.
He returned five minutes later, his jaw tight. Meeting's over. Mitchell, my office. Now.
My stomach dropped. Maya shot me a sympathetic look as I stood on shaking legs.
I followed Damien down the hallway, very aware that everyone was watching. His assistant James gave me an encouraging nod as we passed, which somehow made it worse.
Damien held his office door open for me, then closed it with a sharp click.
Sit, he ordered.
I sat. He moved to his desk, braced his hands on it, and stared at me with an expression I couldn't read.
That was my head of security, he said finally. Someone accessed our employee database over the weekend. Specifically, new hire records.
My blood ran cold. What?
They were looking for you, Sophie. He pulled up something on his computer and turned the screen toward me. These search queries all have your name. Someone wanted to know if you worked here.
I stared at the screen, my heart racing. Multiple searches: Sophie Mitchell employee, Sophie Mitchell Ross Industries, Sophie Mitchell contact information.
Marcus, I whispered.
Your ex-fiancé? Damien's voice was sharp. The one who destroyed your reputation?
How did you, I stopped. Of course he'd researched me. Yes. Marcus Sterling. He's been... he won't leave me alone.
Define 'won't leave me alone.'
I hesitated, but Damien's expression demanded truth. Texts. Emails. He showed up at Rachel's apartment twice. He says I embarrassed him and I need to make it right.
Make what right? He cheated on you.
I know that. You know that. Marcus thinks I'm the one who ruined everything by 'overreacting.' I wrapped my arms around myself. His family has connections everywhere. That's why I couldn't get a job—his father blacklisted me.
Damien's expression turned dangerous. Sterling & Associates. Marcus Sterling. His father is Jonathan Sterling.
Yes.
And Jonathan Sterling sits on the board of half the financial firms in Manhattan. Damien's voice was ice-cold. Including two of our biggest competitors.
I felt sick. I didn't think about that. I swear, I didn't know it would cause problems for Ross Industries
Stop. He moved around the desk. You're not the problem, Sophie. He is. But if Marcus Sterling is tracking you, we need to handle this carefully.
We? I blinked up at him. This is my mess. I'll deal with it.
You work for me now. That makes it my mess too. Damien pulled out his phone. I'm calling security. We're flagging Marcus Sterling and anyone associated with him. If he comes near this building, we'll know.
You don't have to
Yes, I do. His eyes met mine, and for just a second, the ice cracked. I told you once that you deserve better than people who betray you. I meant it.
My throat tightened. Damien
Mr. Ross, he corrected sharply. At work, it's Mr. Ross.
The reminder stung. Right. Mr. Ross. I appreciate the security measures, but this doesn't change anything between us.
There is nothing between us. But his eyes said something different. What happened at that hotel was a mistake we both made. It's over.
Agreed. I stood, needing to leave before I did something stupid like cry. Is that all, sir?
No. He handed me a folder. The acquisition files. I want your analysis by Thursday, like you promised. Don't make me regret giving you this opportunity.
I took the folder, our fingers brushing for half a second. The contact sent electricity up my arm, and from the way Damien's breath hitched, he felt it too.
I won't disappoint you, I said quietly.
See that you don't. He turned away, dismissing me. And Sophie? Stay away from Marcus Sterling. If he contacts you, report it immediately. That's an order.
Yes, sir.
I made it to the elevator before the tears started. Not sad tears—angry ones. Frustrated ones. Because Damien Ross could pretend all he wanted that one night meant nothing, but his eyes told the truth.
He'd felt the spark when we touched. He'd gone pale when he learned about Marcus. He cared, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
And that made everything so much worse.
Back at my desk, I opened the acquisition files and dove into work. Numbers and strategy were safe. Predictable. They didn't look at me with silver-gray eyes and make promises they couldn't keep.
My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: Found you. Working at Ross Industries? Really, Sophie? Trading up from Sterling money to Ross billions? You're even more of a gold digger than I thought.
Marcus.
My hands shook as I forwarded the message to Damien with a simple note: He knows where I work.
The response came immediately: My office. Now.
I walked back to the executive floor, this time with Maya watching curiously.
Damien's door was open. He gestured me in and closed it behind me.
How did he get your number? Damien demanded. You blocked him.
He has ways. His father owns half of Manhattan, remember?
Damien's jaw tightened dangerously. This ends now.
How? I can't exactly take out a restraining order against the son of one of the city's most powerful families
No, but I can make sure he understands that harassing my employees has consequences. Damien pulled out his phone and dialed. James? I need information on Marcus Sterling. Everything. Personal. Professional. Especially anything his father wouldn't want public.
He hung up and looked at me. You're not dealing with this alone anymore.
Why are you doing this? The question burst out before I could stop it. You said to stay out of your way. You said what happened between us was a mistake. So why do you care if my ex is harassing me?
Damien's control cracked. Because— He stopped, running a hand through his hair. Because you work for me. I protect my people.
Is that all I am? Your people?
What do you want me to say, Sophie? His voice rose. That I can't stop thinking about you? That I see your face every time I close my eyes? That finding you in my company felt like fate giving me a second chance I don't deserve?
The confession hung between us, raw and honest.
I want you to tell me the truth, I whispered. Just once. Tell me if that night meant something or if I imagined it all.
Damien crossed the space between us in two steps. His hand cupped my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone exactly the way he had in the hotel.
It meant everything, he said roughly. And that's exactly why this can't happen.
Before I could respond, he kissed me.
It was desperate and hungry and full of three weeks of wanting. His hands tangled in my hair, and I grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more
His phone rang, shrill and insistent.
We broke apart, both breathing hard.
Damien answered it, his voice controlled despite the storm in his eyes. Ross. He listened, his expression darkening. When? Another pause. I'll be right there.
He hung up and looked at me, and I saw something in his face that made my blood run cold.
What's wrong?
Marcus Sterling just filed a lawsuit against Ross Industries, Damien said flatly. Claiming we engaged in illegal recruiting practices by hiring you. He's alleging you stole proprietary information from Sterling & Associates and brought it here.
The room spun. That's insane. I never
I know. Damien's voice was ice. But his father is calling an emergency board meeting. They want you fired immediately, or they'll push the lawsuit public and destroy our reputation.
I felt my new life crumbling around me. I'll resign. Right now. I won't let Marcus destroy your company because of me
No. Damien's voice was steel. You're not going anywhere.
But the lawsuit
Let him sue. Damien's smile was cold and dangerous. Marcus Sterling just made the biggest mistake of his life. He threatened something that's mine.
The possessiveness in his voice made my breath catch.
I'm going to war, Damien continued. Against Marcus, against his father, against anyone who thinks they can use you to hurt me. But Sophie, you need to understand something.
He stepped closer, his eyes blazing with an intensity that stole my breath.
If I do this—if I fight for you—there's no going back. No more pretending. No more professional distance. Everyone will know you mean something to me.
My heart pounded. What are you saying?
I'm saying choose, Damien said roughly. Walk away now, resign quietly, and Marcus wins but you're safe. Or stay, fight with me, and risk everything—your reputation, your career, your heart—on a man who will burn the whole city down before he lets anyone hurt you again.
I stared at him, this beautiful, broken man who'd held me through the darkness and was now offering to go to war for me.
Marcus had destroyed my life once. Damien was offering me a chance to fight back.
I'm not running anymore, I said.
Damien's smile was fierce and possessive. Good. Because Marcus Sterling is about to learn what happens when you come for what's mine.
He pulled me against him, and this kiss was different—a promise, a claim, a declaration of war.
When we finally broke apart, Damien pressed his forehead to mine.
This is going to get ugly, he warned.
I know.
Marcus will try to destroy you. The media will crucify us. My board will demand answers.
I know.
And when this is over, Damien said softly, you're going to know every secret I have. Every scar. Every reason I shouldn't be trusted with something as precious as you.
I cupped his face, making him look at me. Then I guess we're even. Because you're about to learn all my secrets too.
His phone buzzed with an urgent message from James: Board meeting in one hour. They're demanding answers about Sophie Mitchell. This is bad, boss.
Damien showed me the message, his expression grim. Last chance to walk away.
Not a chance. I grabbed my phone and texted Rachel: Everything just exploded. Call you tonight. If I survive.
Damien took my hand, his grip strong and sure. Then let's go show them exactly who they're dealing with.
We walked out of his office together, hand in hand, and every head on the floor turned to stare.
The Ice King and the new girl.
The CEO and the woman accused of corporate espionage.
Let them stare.
Because war was coming.
And this time, I wasn't fighting alone.