Chapter5
1503 Words
Morning sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Damien Cole’s penthouse, painting the marble floors gold. The city of Lagos stretched endlessly beneath him, alive with movement, ambition, and noise.
But inside the penthouse, silence ruled.
Damien stood near the kitchen counter with a cup of untouched coffee in his hand while scrolling through emails on his tablet. Stock reports. Investment proposals. Meeting schedules.
Normally, work distracted him.
Today, it didn’t.
His thoughts kept returning to one woman.
Amara Daniels.
The waitress with stubborn eyes and tired smiles.
The woman who looked at him like he was just another man instead of Africa’s most desired billionaire.
And somehow, that fascinated him more than it should have.
“Sir?”
Damien looked up as his assistant entered the dining area carrying a folder.
Gabriel Morgan had worked for Damien for nearly seven years. Calm, organized, and painfully observant, Gabriel noticed things most people missed.
Including Damien’s unusual mood this morning.
“You canceled two meetings,” Gabriel said carefully.
“I rescheduled them.”
“You never reschedule meetings.”
Damien sipped his coffee.
“There’s a first time for everything.”
Gabriel raised an eyebrow slightly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
“Should I be concerned?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then why do you look like you slept three hours?”
Damien shot him a dry look.
“You’re becoming too comfortable.”
“That happens after surviving seven years with you.”
A faint smirk appeared on Damien’s lips before disappearing again.
Gabriel placed the folder on the counter.
“The board meeting starts at ten. Your father will also attend.”
Instantly, Damien’s expression hardened.
The warmth vanished from his eyes completely.
“Wonderful,” he muttered.
Gabriel noticed the shift immediately.
“Bad night?”
“No. Just unfinished thoughts.”
Before Gabriel could ask what that meant, Damien’s phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
For some reason, his pulse reacted instantly.
He answered without hesitation.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then—
“Hi.”
Amara.
A strange sense of satisfaction settled inside him immediately.
“Good morning,” Damien said calmly, though his voice softened slightly.
Amara sat inside a crowded bus gripping his business card tightly.
She honestly didn’t know why she called him.
Maybe because Ethan’s condition worsened overnight again.
Maybe because hospital bills kept piling up.
Or maybe because part of her couldn’t stop thinking about him either.
“I almost didn’t call,” she admitted quietly.
“And yet you did.”
She rolled her eyes softly.
“You sound very proud of yourself.”
“Only slightly.”
That almost made her smile.
Almost.
“I wanted to thank you for the medicine,” she said carefully. “Ethan’s fever dropped this morning.”
“I’m glad.”
There was genuine relief in his voice.
Not politeness.
Not performance.
Real concern.
And somehow that unsettled her again.
“You’re suspiciously nice for a billionaire,” she muttered.
Damien leaned against the kitchen counter.
“You’re suspiciously honest for someone trying to insult me.”
“I’m not trying.”
“That’s the concerning part.”
Amara bit back a smile.
Dangerous man.
Dangerous charm.
She needed to remember that.
The bus jerked violently, forcing her to grab the seat in front of her.
“Where are you?” Damien asked immediately.
“On my way to an interview.”
“What kind of interview?”
“Office assistant position.”
“At Laurent Holdings?”
Amara froze.
“How did you know that?”
“Because I approved new hiring interviews yesterday.”
She closed her eyes slowly.
Of course.
Of course fate hated her.
“You own too many things,” she complained softly.
Damien actually laughed.
The sound sent unexpected warmth through her chest.
“Come see me when you arrive,” he said.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want this job based on merit.”
“And?”
“And not because the CEO spilled charm all over me in the rain.”
“Spilled charm?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Damien smiled again.
He couldn’t remember the last time a conversation felt this effortless.
“Relax, Amara. I won’t interfere.”
“You promise?”
A pause.
Then quietly—
“Yes.”
Something about the sincerity in his voice made her believe him.
And that was dangerous too.
The bus stopped suddenly outside Laurent Holdings Headquarters.
Amara stared upward at the massive glass building towering over the city.
Luxury.
Power.
Money.
Everything about it screamed Damien.
“You sound nervous,” he observed.
“I am nervous.”
“Good.”
“What?”
“Nervous people care about succeeding.”
Amara shook her head softly.
“You always talk like some motivational speaker?”
“Only when necessary.”
“Then stop.”
He laughed again.
God.
That laugh should honestly be illegal.
“Go to your interview,” Damien said softly. “Call me later.”
Amara blinked.
“Why would I call you later?”
“Because now you’re curious about me.”
“I’m absolutely not.”
“Liar.”
Before she could answer, he ended the call.
Amara stared at her phone in disbelief.
Arrogant man.
Completely arrogant.
So why was she smiling?
Inside the executive boardroom thirty minutes later, Damien sat at the head of a massive black conference table while company executives discussed quarterly profits.
Normally, he dominated meetings effortlessly.
Today, his concentration kept slipping.
“…the Singapore investors are requesting confirmation,” one executive continued nervously.
Damien nodded absentmindedly.
Across the table, Richard Cole observed his son carefully.
Even at sixty-two, Damien’s father remained intimidating. Sharp gray eyes. Impeccable suits. A presence built through decades of ruthless business decisions.
He noticed everything.
Including distraction.
“You seem unusually absent this morning,” Richard remarked coldly.
The room fell silent instantly.
Damien finally looked up.
“I heard every word.”
“Then perhaps you’d like to contribute something useful.”
Tension tightened immediately around the room.
Executives avoided eye contact.
Nobody enjoyed witnessing father and son clash.
Damien leaned back slowly.
“The Singapore deal proceeds under the original conditions,” he said calmly. “Anything else?”
Richard studied him carefully.
“You canceled dinner last night.”
“I was busy.”
“With what?”
Damien’s expression cooled.
“Does it matter?”
“It does when you represent this family.”
There it was.
Control.
Always control.
Every conversation with his father felt like a chess match.
Every move calculated.
Damien spent years learning how to survive it.
“I handled it,” Damien replied evenly.
Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message from Vanessa.
“She’s definitely not just a waitress.”
Attached beneath the text was a blurry photo of Amara entering Laurent Holdings that morning.
Richard glanced at the image briefly before looking back at Damien.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Meanwhile, downstairs, Amara sat nervously outside the Human Resources office adjusting the sleeves of her only blazer.
Other applicants looked polished and confident.
She looked exhausted.
A woman beside her glanced up from her phone.
“You’re here for the assistant position too?”
Amara nodded politely.
“I heard they’re only choosing one person,” the woman continued. “Apparently the CEO himself approved the final interviews.”
Amara nearly groaned aloud.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
The office doors suddenly opened.
A sharply dressed woman stepped outside.
“Amara Daniels?”
Amara stood immediately.
“That’s me.”
“Please come in.”
The interview room overlooked the city through massive glass windows. Three interviewers sat across the table reviewing documents.
Amara inhaled quietly.
You need this job.
Do not panic.
The interview began smoothly enough.
Questions about education.
Work experience.
Computer skills.
Amara answered carefully despite her nerves.
Then one interviewer looked up.
“You previously studied fashion design?”
“Yes.”
“Why stop?”
Pain flickered briefly through her expression.
“My father died. I needed work immediately.”
The room softened slightly.
Another interviewer nodded sympathetically.
“You also worked three jobs simultaneously?”
Amara laughed softly.
“Welcome to Lagos.”
That answer earned small smiles.
For the first time all morning, she relaxed slightly.
Until the final interviewer spoke.
“Miss Daniels… do you know Damien Cole personally?”
Silence.
Her stomach dropped instantly.
Dangerous question.
Very dangerous question.
Amara forced herself to remain calm.
“I met him once.”
“Once?”
“At a charity event.”
The interviewers exchanged quick looks.
Clearly they already knew something.
Wonderful.
“He specifically requested your application be reviewed carefully,” the woman admitted.
Amara’s eyes widened.
That liar.
That manipulative billionaire liar.
“He promised he wouldn’t interfere,” she muttered under her breath.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.”
The interview ended shortly afterward.
As Amara exited the room, frustration burned through her chest.
- Writer
