CLAIMED BY HIS OBSESSION

CHAPTER 4

POV: Damien

I tossed the quarterly reports onto the center of the table. The sharp smack made the head of acquisitions flinch in his expensive suit.

"This is garbage," I said, leaning back in my chair. "You actually call this a projection?"

The guy stammered, frantically wiping sweat off his forehead. He was terrified of me, and honestly, he should be.

I ran the tech branch of the Black empire. I didn't get this seat by playing nice or holding hands with the board members.

"The algorithm failed to account for the market shift, Mr. Black," he squeaked out.

I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "The algorithm failed because you gave it trash data."

I didn't have the patience for incompetence. I didn't have the patience for much of anything these days.

"Fix it by Friday, or pack your desk," I told him.

I stood up, signaling the brutal end of the meeting. Everyone scattered like roaches when the lights turn on.

They couldn't get out of the room fast enough. It was always exactly like this.

I walked back to my private office and slammed the door shut. The heavy silence was an instant relief to my pounding head.

I poured myself a black coffee and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city looked like a massive, glowing circuit board from up here.

People thought Dominic was the ruthless one in the family.

The truth is….. Dominic was the face, the strategist amongst us.

I, however, was the executioner. When a competitor needed their servers completely wiped or their stock tanked into the dirt, they called me.

I liked machines. Machines actually made perfect sense.

They did exactly what you told them to do. They didn't lie, and they definitely didn't leave you behind.

Unlike people. People were a completely different story.

My phone buzzed on the desk with a text from Dominic about some corporate merger. I ignored it.

Dominic was obsessed with this new war against the Vales. Taking their discarded trash and parading it around to make a point.

It was a stupid, messy game. But I backed my brother no matter what.

I always backed my brothers. We were the only ones we could ever count on in this miserable world.

The media thinks the Blacks were born with silver spoons shoved in our mouths. They don't know the actual truth.

They don't know what it felt like to be six years old and watch your own parents walk out the front door.

They just left us. No note, no long goodbye, absolutely nothing.

Just a couple of packed bags and a locked front door on a random Tuesday afternoon.

Dominic practically raised me and the others after that horrible day. He built this massive empire so we would never be helpless again.

That kind of betrayal changes a kid. It rips out the part of your brain that believes in fairy tales and love.

Love is a total scam. It's just a massive vulnerability waiting to be exploited by someone smarter than you.

I put up walls so high and thick that nobody could ever climb them. I kept everyone at a very safe distance.

Women were strictly temporary in my life. Fun for a night, maybe two, and then they were gone before breakfast.

I didn't do attachments. I absolutely did not do messy emotions.

I was perfectly fine in my isolated little tower of code and money.

Until last night. Until her.

My mind aggressively dragged me back to the kitchen.

Sophia.

I rubbed my temples, trying to physically erase the image of her shivering against the counter.

It wasn't working at all. She was stuck in my head like a bad line of malicious code.

When I walked into the kitchen and saw her crying, something weird happened inside me.

My chest actually tightened. It was a physical, painful reaction.

I didn't care about Marcus Vale's pathetic ex-wife. I didn't care about anyone's ex-wife.

But seeing her so broken triggered something I didn't even know was hiding in my system.

It was this primal, violent need to stand in front of her and block out the entire world.

I wanted to track down Marcus and permanently rearrange his teeth. I wanted to burn his entire mansion to the ground.

Marcus Vale was a complete joke. A weak man playing dress-up in his daddy's suits.

The fact that he had a woman like Sophia and threw her out like garbage? It proved he was completely brain-dead.

It made zero logical sense for me to care. I didn't even know the girl.

So, I went on the offensive. It was my default setting when I felt threatened by something I couldn't control.

I shoved a glass of whiskey at her and told her to stop being pathetic. I was brutally harsh.

I told her to stop crying over trash that belonged in a dumpster.

It sounded mean. It was meant to sound mean.

But honestly? It was the only way I knew how to put a protective shield around her.

Softness doesn't keep you alive in our cutthroat world.

I needed her to find her anger. Anger is a weapon you can actually use.

Sadness just makes you a walking target for predators.

When she snapped back at me, her eyes flashing in the dark?

Yeah. That was the exact moment I realized I was completely screwed.

I told myself I was just following Dominic's master play. Keeping the new weapon sharp for the upcoming war.

But who was I even kidding?

When I reached out and touched her face, my hand was practically burning.

I wanted to pull her against me and show her what it felt like to actually be wanted by a real man.

Not used or discarded on a wet street. Fiercely wanted.

But I couldn't do that. I was broken in dark ways she couldn't even begin to understand.

She needed a safe place to land and heal. I was a walking minefield.

I let out a harsh breath and turned away from the massive window.

I had to stay away from her. I had to treat her like the project she was supposed to be in this house.

If I let her in, she would ruin me. She would effortlessly tear down the walls I spent twenty years building.

Or worse. I would completely ruin her.

I walked over to my desk and forcefully opened my laptop. Work. That was exactly what I needed right now.

I needed to bury myself in numbers and data until I forgot the way she smelled like rain and vanilla.

My office door clicked open without a single knock. Only one arrogant person did that.

Dominic walked in, looking entirely too smug for ten in the morning.

"The Vale stock dropped four percent at the opening bell," Dominic said, dropping onto my leather couch.

"Good for us," I muttered, refusing to look up from my screen.

"Sophia is awake. I'm taking her shopping," he continued smoothly. "You should come. Show some family solidarity."

I finally looked up at him. He was playing a very dangerous game, and he didn't even know the half of it.

"I'm busy," I said flatly. "Keep your stray dog out of my way."

Dominic just smirked at me. He didn't believe a word I just said.

He knew me better than anyone alive. He probably saw the exact way I looked at her when she arrived last night.

"Suit yourself," Dominic said, standing up and brushing invisible lint off his suit. "Just remember, Damien. She's strictly off-limits."

He walked out, leaving me alone with the quiet hum of the computer servers.

Off-limits. Right. Sure thing, boss.

I cracked my knuckles and stared at the empty doorway for a long minute.

Sophia wasn't a pawn. And I definitely wasn't playing by his rules anymore.

I told myself again to stay far away. To let Dominic handle the messy Vale drama.

But the memory of her tear-stained face flashed in my mind again, hitting me like a physical punch.

She was a walking disaster. A beautiful complication I seriously did not need in my structured life.

Yet, my feet were already moving toward the door before my brain could stop them.

What was I doing?

I was going to ruin everything. I knew it in my gut.

But for the first time in my life, I really didn't care.