A car door clicked shut, and the sound of a soft thud kept me in Damian Blackwood’s world.

I should have felt trapped.

Instead I felt something far more sinister.

Excitement.

I stiffened to sit, my hands gripping my purse as Damian slid into the seat next to me. The distance between us felt too close, the air heavy with something I didn't want to name.

The driver picked up a pace and, for a brief moment, silence enveloped us.

Then Damian spoke.

"You were right, Elena."

I turned to him, my pulse pounding in my ears. "I didn't make a choice."

His lips twitched. "Didn't you?"

I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction. Again.

"Well, you gave me no choice, I guess."

Damian tilted his head. "I don't force anybody to do anything. You had every opportunity to turn around."

I scoffed. "Right. And go back to my apartment, wondering if I had just turned down my last safe space?"

His gaze darkened. "Well perhaps you should ask yourselves, well, why did you get it from me in the first place."

I swallowed hard. That was the real question, though, right?

Why me?

What had Damian Blackwood seen in me that had led him to want to drag me into his world?

The way he was looking at me now like he knew something I didn't gave me chills up and down my spine.

I turned my eyes away to the window. A blurred stream of gold and silver city lights passed by, familiar and distant all at once.

I was walking into a territory I didn't comprehend.

But still, some part of me … wanted to.

The vehicle rolled to a stop beneath an enormous building that loomed like a fortress against the night sky, all austere minimalism and forbidding glass.

Damian was the first to get out, walking around the car and opening my door.

I paused for a split second.

Then I took his extended hand.

His fingers wrapped around mine, solid and too warm, and an immediate pulse of heat traveled through my skin.

It hung a moment too long.

I pulled away then, acting as if it hadn't hurt.

He led me inside, past a pristine lobby, through a private elevator that hummed as it ferried us upward.

The tension was thick.

I was too aware of him. How he would stand too close, consuming the space with his body. The way his scent cloaked me fresh, sumptuous, menacing.

"You are nervous," he whispered.

I stiffened. "I'm not."

He chuckled, low and dark. "Liar."

Before I could offer a word the elevator door pinged and slid open to reveal a stunning penthouse.

The lights were dim, and low shadows danced across sleek furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows framed with the city below. It was beautiful. Expensive.

But still, it was somehow … chilly?

No personal touches. No warmth.

Like the man who lived here.

Damian continued walking, unbuttoning his suit coat. "Drink?"

I shook my head. "No."

He poured himself a whiskey anyway and took a slow sip before returning his gaze to me.

"Let's talk about your job."

I sat up straight and tried to focus. And why I was in the first place, really here.

"What exactly do you want me to do?

Damian leaned against the counter, eyeing me over the rim of his glass. "It won't be easy. You do work very closely with me. HOW ARE YOU WHEN IT COMES TO THINGS THAT REQUIRE DISCRETION? Quick thinking."

I frowned. "That's still vague."

His lips curved slightly. "Good. You should get used to that."

I fluffed and crossed my arms, "Uh uh. "You act like all the time?

His smirk deepened. "With folks who simply make them fascinating."

My breath caught.

Because I knew what he meant.

I wasn't stupid. There was sexual chemistry between us electric, undeniable.

And the worst part?

I didn't hate it.

I edged forward, stepping slowly, matching his gaze. "Listen to me, Damian, I'm going to make one thing clear. I'm here to work. That's it."

Amusement danced behind his darkening eyes. "Of course."

I narrowed my gaze. "I mean it."

He tilted his head as he gave me the once-over. "Are you buttering me up, Elena?"

Or yourself?

I swallowed, my skin suddenly too hot.

What this man was going to do to land in trouble.

And I had walked straight into his world.

I should have been relieved.

Damian had given in we had a job to do.

So why did it feel like I had just lost a war I didn't even know I was waging?

I took a slow breath and shook off the knot of tension that had tightened around me like a vise. Focus, Elena.

"Ok," I said and sat up straighter. "Where do we start?"

Damian looked at me for a moment, then set his glass on the table with a soft clink. "Tomorrow. You will be in my office at eight, on the dot."

I raised a brow. "You flew me all the way out here to tell me that I'm starting tomorrow?"

His lips twitched. "I was just seeing how you deal with pressure."

My jaw clenched. "And?"

His eyes grew dark, and there was a look on his face I couldn't decipher. "You're still standing."

A strange warmth curled in my belly.

I didn't like it.

I was paces from the elevator, ready to leave. "Good night, Damian."

"Wait."

I hesitated, finger hovering above the button. "What now?"

His tone was gentler this time. "Stay here tonight."

A chill ran down my spine. I turned slowly. "Excuse me?"

Damian was staring at me, his expression inscrutable. "It's late. Your apartment's not in the most secure part of town. Stay here."

My heart raced in my ribs. "Are you serious?"

His lips twitched. "Do I look like someone who jokes around?"

No. Damian Blackwood was not the playful type.

Still, I hesitated. "I'm not staying here."

"Why not?"

I scoffed. "Because I don't trust you."

A slow smirk curved his lips. "Smart girl."

There was something about the way he said it that made my pulse stutter.

"I'll have a spare bedroom ready," he said, his tone gentler now. "No strings attached."

I hesitated.

Even considering it Was stupid.

But he was correct going back to my apartment this late was not the best plan.

I exhaled sharply. "Fine. One night."

His smile grew, but he did not push. Instead, he pushed a button on the wall and, moments later, a woman arrived.

"Take Elena to the guest room," Damian said, still staring at me. "Make sure she has everything she needs."

The woman, in her mid-forties, with piercing eyes, nodded. "Of course, sir."

My heart still racing, I followed her down a long hallway. The voice had been that of a threat, that of Damian Blackwood. Too dangerous.

And yet I had just signed on to spend the night in his home.

I didn't know if that made me courageous.

Or insanely reckless.

The guest room was bigger than my entire apartment.

Diffused light, silk sheets, a balcony overlooking the city. It was the kind of luxury I had never even allowed myself to dream about.

I sat on the edge of the bed and thought.

What the hell was I doing?

Damian was an enemy worth working for. Staying here? Letting myself be drawn deeper into his world?

I was playing with fire.

I wasn't sure that I was going to survive it without getting burned.

A soft knock on the door startled me.

I turned, my pulse spiking. "Yes?"

I hadn't heard the door open, and before I had a chance to react, Damian was crossing over the threshold.

I shot to my feet. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer right away. Rather, he moved slowly toward me, raking his eyes over me.

"I just wanted to make sure you OK."

His voice was low, smooth far too damn dangerous.

I swallowed hard. "I'm fine."

His lips twitched. "Good."

Silence stretched between us.

The air was thick, charged.

Damian didn't move closer.

But he also didn't step back.

And I somehow couldn't stop watching it."

I should have told him to fuck off.

I should have just stepped back a few paces, walked away.

But I had just stood, ahí nomás, watching him, waiting.

His gaze drifted to my lips for an instant.

My breath hitched.

A jag of something hot arrowed between us.

Then, just like that, Damian receded.

"Good night, Elena."

His tone was steady, measured.

As if no drama had just unfolded.

Like he hadn't just looked at me as if he wanted to eat me.

I forced myself to nod. "Good night."

He turned, and vanished out of the doorway.

My heart raced, and I shakily exhaled.

Damian Blackwood was a menace

to society.

And I had just committed the worst act of my life.

Because I knew the truth, deep down.

This was no longer about business.