“Welcome, Miss Elfhorn.” His voice was deep, stripped of pleasantry. He gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit.”
Not a request. An order.
My stomach clenched. Slowly, I obeyed, setting the bag carefully across my lap.
Leaning back, his eyes never wavered. “How have the last few weeks been for you?”
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “It’s been… good. A lot to learn. A lot of responsibility.”
No flicker of reaction. “Do you have the artifact?”
I nodded, unfastened the bag, and drew out the case. My hands trembled, clumsy under the weight of history.
He rose, unhurried. Each movement was precise, deliberate. When he moved, the room obeyed—silent, heavy, inevitable. I felt it beneath my skin. When he reached me and took the case, his fingers brushed mine—an instant, no more. But the spark shot through my skin like an electric current. I hated that I wanted his attention—hated the part of me that warmed under the very thing that should have warned me away. I swallowed hard, gathering myself. I wasn’t here to falter. I wasn’t here to feel.
He was my boss. Untouchable. Immoveable. A fortress.
And me? I was acting like a foolish girl who couldn’t tell duty from desire. I hated myself for it—for the flutter in my chest, for the secret heat crawling under my skin.
Damian didn’t bother opening the case. He set it aside as if it meant nothing.
“Well done,” he said, his voice threading straight through me, touching places it shouldn’t. “You’ve settled into the shop faster than I expected.”
“Thank you.” My composure wavered as he half-sat on the edge of his desk, braced on either side, close enough to feel. My body went still for a moment—like everything inside me locked up.
Too near.
Too much.
And still, I couldn’t look away. The fabric of his trousers pulled tight, every line sharp, and heat rushed to my face. Damn it. I should stay professional. Instead, I felt myself slipping—undone by one man, one moment.
“You’ve done excellent work so far. But do you know what kind of world you’ve stepped into here?” His words hung like smoke—slow, dangerous. His faint smile wasn’t friendly. It was the smile of a man who knew people breathed less easily when he leaned too close.
Damian tilted forward, just slightly. My heartbeat doubled.
“In this world, there are only two roles: control—or be controlled.”
A cold bloom opened beneath my skin. My stomach knotted. I wanted to look away but couldn’t. When I finally tried, his finger brushed my chin—gentle but deliberate. Possessive. He made me meet his eyes. I couldn’t seem to draw in a full breath.
“I’ve been watching your work these past weeks. I see potential in you. More than you realize,” he added quietly, something unreadable flickering in his eyes—gone before I could name it.
The air between us collapsed. My head screamedleave.I shot to my feet.
“Mr. Miller, I’ve brought you the artifact. If you don’t need anything else, I’d like to return to the shop.” I turned, desperate for distance.
“Show me.”
I froze. “Excuse me?”
“The artifact. I want to see it.” His voice pinned me. Calm. Absolute.
I sighed, shoulders sagging, and moved back.
“In a hurry, Miss Elfhorn?” His smile sharpened—quiet victory. My fingers opened the case even as my mind screamedleave.
I sensed him before I realized he had moved. And then I felt him. Behind me. The air shifted. His breath stirred my neck—warm, steady, unbearably close. My pulse thundered in my ears. I didn’t dare turn. If I did, we’d touch. Slowly, I unwrapped the artifact, my hands trembling.
My cardigan slipped from my shoulder. I didn’t catch it. And I knew he noticed.
