CHAPTER FIVE - THE MAN BEHIND THE GLASS
393 Words
Sleep didn’t come easily. Every time Amara closed her eyes, she saw the flames from that old newspaper photo. She told herself it was coincidence. It had to be.
Still, when her alarm rang at dawn, her hands were trembling.
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The office was buzzing when she arrived. Rumors traveled faster than reports here, and all of them seemed to lead back to Damien Cross.
“Morning.”
The sound of his voice behind her made her jump. Damien slid a coffee cup across her desk. Her favorite order. Extra foam, cinnamon sprinkled on top.
Her stomach knotted. “I never told you—”
“Lucky guess,” he said smoothly, but the smirk on his lips told her it wasn’t luck.
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Later that day, Amara found herself trapped in the elevator with him. The metal box hummed, too small, too close.
She tried to focus on her phone, but Damien’s reflection in the mirror-like walls distracted her. His gaze was steady, burning into her like he could read every secret she’d ever buried.
“Do you ever wonder,” he asked softly, “why fate brings certain people together… again and again?”
Her head snapped up. “What are you talking about?”
The elevator doors opened before he could answer. He stepped out, leaving her shaken and desperate for air.
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That evening, Amara stayed late to finish her reports. When she finally walked through the lobby, the building was nearly empty—except for him.
Damien stood in front of the massive glass windows, the city lights painting his silhouette in gold and shadow. He didn’t turn when she approached, but somehow, she knew he’d been waiting.
“You shouldn’t walk home alone at night,” he said, his voice low, commanding. “It’s dangerous.”
Her heart raced. “Why do you care?”
Finally, he turned. His eyes caught hers, dark and unyielding. “Because I always have.”
Her breath caught. The words didn’t make sense, but the weight in his voice told her he meant them.
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That night, lying awake in her bed, Amara couldn’t shake the feeling that Damien Cross knew her—intimately, impossibly—from long before this job.
But how?
And why did it feel like her every step was being pulled by strings only he could see?
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