Chapter 7: Between Doubt and Desire

Elena couldn't focus the rest of her shift.

Every time she wiped a glass or took a guest's order, Damon's words echoed in her mind.

> "I want to offer you something… something that could change things."

It wasn't the offer itself that shook her—it was the way he said it. Calm. Confident. As if he had already seen her future and decided to be part of it.

She should be afraid. Men like Damon didn't make offers without expecting something in return. But when she had looked into his eyes… there was no lust, no arrogance, no hint of mockery. Just something she couldn't name. Something steady.

And that scared her more than anything.

---

By the time her shift ended, the sun had dipped behind the skyline, casting long shadows over the city. Elena stood outside the staff locker room, her hand clutching her small purse, staring at the elevator.

She could go home.

Lily would be waiting. Dinner would be a struggle. The rent deadline was creeping closer. She could take the same route she always did—safe, predictable, heavy.

Or…

She could go back to the 16th floor.

Her feet moved before her mind agreed.

---

The elevator hummed softly as it ascended. Her heart pounded in time with each floor it passed.

When the doors opened, the hallway was quiet, dimly lit. The same golden glow from earlier now felt softer, more intimate. She walked toward the Executive Suite, her hands cold and clammy.

She paused in front of the door.

Her fist hovered mid-air.

She didn't know what she was walking into. But she knew what she was walking away from if she turned back: another night of fear, of fighting for scraps. Another night of watching Lily sleep with a cough that wouldn't quit.

So she knocked.

The door opened almost instantly.

Damon stood there, jacket gone, his shirt sleeves rolled up, tie loosened. He looked less like the mysterious billionaire and more like a man halfway through a long, quiet evening. Something in his eyes softened when he saw her.

"You came," he said simply.

"I don't know why," she replied honestly.

He stepped aside. "Come in and find out."

---

The suite was warm, calm, scented faintly with cedarwood. A tray of untouched food sat on the table—two plates.

"You expected me?" she asked.

"I hoped," he corrected, motioning for her to sit.

She sat cautiously at the edge of the couch.

Damon poured water into two glasses and handed her one, settling across from her with no rush, no pressure.

"I won't keep you long," he said. "I just want to make you an offer, and you're free to say no."

Elena met his eyes. "What kind of offer?"

He leaned forward.

"I'm opening a new division under my company in the city. A personal assistant role. It's not glamorous. But it pays more than the hotel, and it's flexible. I want you to take it."

Elena blinked. "Me? But I'm just—"

"You're smart," he cut in. "Observant. Quiet, but sharp. I don't need experience. I need someone I can trust."

Her heart thudded. "Why me?"

He didn't answer right away. Then finally, he said, "Because I see something in you that reminds me of myself. And because… I want to see where this goes."

Her breath caught.

This wasn't just business. Not yet love. But something in between — like a match hovering just above the flame, waiting.

And for the first time in a long time, she didn't want to run.