CHAPTER TWO.
1704 Words
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The office buzzed with tension after Damian Cole’s rare visit. Emery could still feel the weight of every eye on her, as though her colleagues were waiting for her to crumble. She kept her chin high, though her hands trembled slightly as she arranged files.
If Damian thought he’d broken her in that conference room, he was wrong.
Her phone buzzed suddenly on her desk. A message from HR:
Report to the CEO’s office immediately.
Her stomach dropped.
"I guess I'm cooked today"
She rose slowly, smoothing her skirt with hands that betrayed her nerves, and began the long walk to the twenty-fifth floor , the executive floor no ordinary employee dared to wander into without summons.
The elevator doors opened to reveal gleaming marble, a crystal chandelier above, and a secretary seated behind a wide glass desk. The woman’s sharp eyes flicked over Emery like she was measuring her worth.
“Mr. Cole is expecting you,” the secretary said coolly.
Emery swallowed and nodded, stepping toward the massive oak doors. Her reflection stared back at her in the polished surface before she pushed them open.
Damian’s office was intimidating, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the entire city, bookshelves lined the walls, and a sleek black desk sat like a throne. Damian himself stood behind it, jacket off, sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing the strength in his forearms. His gray eyes lifted, pinning her in place.
“Sit.”
It wasn’t a request.
Emery obeyed, perching on the edge of the leather chair. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap.
Damian studied her for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair. “Do you know why you’re here?”
She hesitated. “Because I was late again?”
His lips twitched not quite a smile, more like irritation. “That’s part of it. But no. You’re here because you interest me, Miss Emery.”
Her heart stuttered. “Interest you?”
“Yes,” he said smoothly, folding his hands together. “You don’t crumble easily. Most employees I confront can’t even look me in the eye. You, on the other hand, fight to keep your dignity even when you’re one mistake away from unemployment. That… is rare.”
Emery frowned. “With all due respect, Mr. Cole, my dignity isn’t something you get to use for entertainment.”
His brows rose slightly. Few people dared speak to him that way. “Bold.”
“Honest,” she shot back, surprising even herself.
For a moment, silence hung thick between them. Damian’s eyes narrowed, but instead of anger, there was a spark like he was amused.
Finally, he rose and walked to the window, hands in his pockets. “My family is pressuring me to marry.”
Emery blinked. Of all the things she expected to hear, that wasn’t it.
“Your family?” she asked carefully.
“They believe a powerful man should have a powerful woman at his side,” he said flatly. “They’ve chosen someone… suitable. A socialite named Clara West.” His tone sharpened slightly at the name. “But I have no intention of letting my life be dictated.”
Emery shifted uncomfortably. She had no idea why he was telling her this.
“And what does that have to do with me?” she asked.
Damian turned then, his gaze locking with hers. Cold. Calculated. Dangerous.
“Everything,” he said softly. “If I am married, they cannot force me into another arrangement. Which means…” He paused deliberately. “I need a wife.”
The words struck Emery like a slap. She stared at him, mouth parting in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
His expression didn’t waver. “I am not in the habit of making jokes.”
Emery shot to her feet, shaking her head. “You’re .... You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough,” Damian said, his voice calm, as though he had already decided her fate. “You’re desperate. You need money. You would do anything to keep your family afloat. A contract marriage benefits us both.”
Her chest tightened at his blunt words. How did he know? How could he see through her so easily?
“You think because I’m struggling, I’d sell myself to you?” she snapped, her pride flaring hot.
He stepped closer, towering over her, his presence suffocating. “Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about what you’re willing to sacrifice for your family. I’m offering you a solution.”
“A solution or a cage?” she hissed.
His eyes darkened. For a moment, the mask slipped, and she saw the storm beneath. “Both,” he admitted.
“But it’s a cage lined with gold.”
Emery’s pulse raced. Her instinct screamed to refuse, to walk out and never look back. But the image of her mother’s hospital bills, her little brother’s tuition fees, the constant weight of debt—all of it crashed over her.
Damian Cole was offering everything she needed. At a price.
Her fists clenched. “I’d rather starve than chain myself to you.”
Something flickered across his face irritation, maybe even admiration. He leaned in, so close she could feel the heat of his breath.
“Careful, Emery,” he murmured.
“Pride is expensive. And I always collect debts.”
Her breath caught. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The air between them crackled.
Then Damian straightened, sliding his hands back into his pockets as though nothing had happened. “Think about it. But don’t take too long. Opportunities don’t wait.”
With that, he turned back to his desk, dismissing her as easily as one would brush off dust.
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Emery’s hands trembled as she yanked open the door. Her heart thundered against her ribs as she strode down the hall, refusing to let him see her break.
But deep down, she knew the truth.
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Emery couldn’t remember how she made it out of Damian Cole’s office. One moment she’d been standing beneath his cold, merciless gaze, the next she was back in the elevator, clutching her bag as though it could anchor her against the storm inside.
A wife? he wants me to be his wife?
The words echoed in her mind like poison. It wasn’t a request; it had been a command disguised as an offer. Damian Cole didn’t ask.
He never did.
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Emery's Apartment
By the time she returned to her small apartment, exhaustion weighed on her like lead. The air smelled faintly of detergent and instant noodles. Her little brother, Ethan, was sprawled on the floor with his textbooks, muttering formulas under his breath.
“Emmy!” he grinned, rushing to hug her. “You’re home!”
She forced a smile, kissing the top of his messy hair. “Of course. You finish your homework?”
He nodded eagerly. “Almost. But… Mom called. She sounded tired again.”
Emery’s heart clenched. She set her bag down and picked up her cracked phone, scrolling to her mother’s number. The call connected after a few rings, and a frail but warm voice filled her ear.
“Emery, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Mom,” Emery whispered, blinking back sudden tears. “How are you feeling?”
“Better today,” her mother lied, as she always did. “Don’t worry about me. Just focus on work and school.”
Emery’s throat burned. She wanted to scream, I can’t even pay your hospital bills without drowning, but she bit the words back. Her mother didn’t need more burdens.
After they hung up, Emery leaned against the peeling wall, covering her face with her hands. Damian’s voice echoed again. A cage lined with gold.
What if… what if stepping into that cage meant her mother lived, Ethan studied, and she finally breathed without debt crushing her lungs?
Her pride screamed no. But desperation whispered yes.
The next morning at work, Emery tried to bury herself in tasks. But by noon, a sleek black car appeared outside the building. The receptionist hurried to her desk.
“Miss Emery, Mr. Cole’s driver is waiting for you.”
Her pulse spiked. Already?
Outside, the tinted window rolled down just enough for her to glimpse Damian inside, expression unreadable.
“Get in,” he said.
Every rational bone in her body wanted to walk away. But her feet betrayed her. She slid into the car, clutching her bag to her chest.
Silence hung heavy as the city blurred past the windows. Finally, Emery found her voice. “You can’t just order me around like this.”
Damian’s gaze flicked to her, sharp and cool. “Yet here you are.”
Her jaw tightened. “Because you cornered me.”
“No,” he corrected smoothly. “Because deep down, you know I’m offering the only lifeline you’ll get.”
Her heart twisted. “You think you know everything about me. About my family. About what I need. But you don’t.”
“I know enough.” His voice dropped, low and lethal. “Your mother’s bills. Your brother’s school fees. You work two jobs and still barely keep the lights on. Tell me, Emery, how much longer before the weight crushes you?”
Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “You don’t get to use my pain like that.”
“I’m not using it,” Damian said simply. “I’m solving it. But pride is standing in your way.”
She whipped her head toward him, fire flashing in her eyes. “Maybe pride is all I have left.”
For a moment, their gazes locked. His lips pressed into a thin line, and something unreadable flickered in his eyes—admiration, annoyance, maybe both.
The car stopped in front of a towering luxury hotel. Damian stepped out, buttoning his jacket with practiced ease. He turned back to her.
“Dinner. With me.”
Emery blinked. “What?”
“You can’t make a decision on an empty stomach.” His tone was final, not up for argument. “Come upstairs.”
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#onelove💕
- Writer
