The first time Damian took me into his office after everything, it wasn’t for work. I knew that the moment the doors sealed behind us and the outside world vanished into silence. The room was all glass and steel and shadow, the kind of place where power lived and breathed. His desk sat like a throne at the center, untouched, immaculate, control made tangible. I stood just inside the doorway, pulse racing, heart heavy with everything we had lost and everything we still refused to give up. Damian didn’t speak right away. He loosened his cufflinks slowly, deliberately, like he was buying himself time to stay composed. When he finally turned to face me, his eyes softened in a way that didn’t happen often. “You don’t belong hiding in bedrooms anymore,” he said quietly. “Not after what you survi
