Damien’s POV
I returned to the meeting with a blank expression, smoothing the mask back over my face like slipping into a finely tailored coat. The mayor was droning on about zoning conflicts and the new investor gala. I nodded, leaned back, and let my mind concentrate.
I said all the right things. Gave a compelling breakdown of the new offshore fund, disarmed the governor’s opposition with a single raised brow, and promised the mayor the zoning permits for his “legacy project” would be delivered before the next election cycle.
And yet—I wasn’t really there.
A few more minutes passed before something new cut through the meeting.
Perfume. Too repulsive. Too familiar.
I felt her before I saw her.
She sashayed in without shame, hips swaying in a rhythm only desperation could birth, pla
