Ruin Me

CHAPTER THREE

«WOLFELUX CORPORATION, 8:42 AM, 20TH FLOOR»

Aria Monroe stood outside Damon Wolfe’s office, her hands clammy around the notepad Victor had slapped into them minutes ago. Her heels were too high, her nerves too frayed, and her thoughts too scattered. It was her first official day under Damon Wolfe’s rule, and she already felt like prey.

The hallway on the 20th floor was all steel, glass, and silence. Cold sophistication wrapped the air like a glove, elegant, expensive, and unforgiving. Aria adjusted the hem of her blouse and exhaled slowly.

Victor stepped out of the office, his expression unreadable. “He’s ready. Try not to speak unless spoken to. And for God’s sake, don’t smile.”

Aria stepped in, her spine straightening automatically.

Damon sat behind his desk, dressed in a three-piece charcoal suit that hugged his form like it had been stitched onto him. The skyline of New York City burned behind him, sunlight cascading through the glass wall like a spotlight on a king. Cold, powerful, untouchable.

He didn’t glance up. “You're two minutes late.”

“I…“

“Don’t bother. Sit.”

She obeyed.

“Your tasks are simple. Organize my schedule. Forward the Steinberg files. Do not miss a single detail. This is not a coffee-fetching role, Miss Monroe. This is payment.”

His eyes lifted slowly, pinning her. “Understood?”

Aria nodded, swallowing. “Yes.”

He raised a brow. “Yes, what?”

“Yes… Damon.”

A flicker of amusement touched the corner of his mouth. “Good girl. Now get out. You’re already wasting my air.”

Outside, Aria found her designated desk facing his door. Sleek, minimal, impersonal, like everything else in this place. Victor gave her a terse introduction to the systems before vanishing.

She stared at the interface. Meetings. File transfers. Voice memos. Internal calls. Her fingers flew, heart pounding as she tried to keep up. Damon’s schedule was a beast, crammed with legal briefings, executive huddles, and sharp red markings she didn’t dare question.

11:30 AM: Cassie - CANCELLED.

That name hung in her head like a warning.

At exactly 11:32, the elevator dinged.

Heels. Loud. Confidence. Annoying.

A woman strode toward her desk like a bullet in heels. Blood-red trench coat. Legs for days. Expensive everything. She removed her sunglasses with a slow flourish, revealing a face that had clearly cost a fortune.

“Secretary,” she purred. “I assume Damon’s in?”

Aria opened her mouth. “He’s in a meeting…“

Cassie swept past her without waiting.

The door flung open.

“Damon, baby, you forgot to return my messages!”

There was a pause. A long, tense pause.

“Cassie.”

His tone was glacial.

Aria heard the edge of irritation under the surface.

“You weren’t scheduled.”

“But you love surprises,” Cassie crooned.

“Correction. I tolerate distractions when they’re worth the delay. You’re not.”

There was silence. Aria didn’t know whether to be amused or horrified.

Cassie stormed out a minute later, sunglasses back on, fury written across her face. She paused beside Aria’s desk.

“You. Secretary-slave. Try not to make him bored. He bites.”

Aria smiled tightly. “Good thing I don’t bore easily.”

Cassie’s eyes narrowed, then she turned and strutted away.

The office was quiet again. But only for a moment.

The telecom rang and she picked it up.

Damon’s voice cut through like a whip. “Inside. Now.”

She dropped the telecom and scrambled to his office, notebook in hand.

He didn’t look up from his screen.

“Who told you to let her in?”

“I didn’t. She just barged in.”

He slowly lifted his gaze, sharp as a blade. “Then you’re slower than you look. Block people like her. That’s your job.”

Aria inhaled sharply. “I’m not psychic, Damon.”

His brow arched. “And yet you thought it was wise to use my face without permission. You seemed confident enough then.”

She stiffened.

He leaned back, voice softer now, more dangerous. “Do you think this is a joke? You used me. You stole my image. Do you think working here for five years is a mercy?”

She shook her head. “No. But it’s my only option.”

“Exactly. Which means I own your time. Your hours. Your mistakes. And your failures. You will answer me for all of them.”

Aria stared at him, defiance flaring beneath her fear. “Fine. Then train me, or punish me. But stop acting like I wanted this.”

Damon stood slowly, walking toward her until there were barely inches between them.

“You didn’t want this,” he said coldly. “But you earned it. And you’ll suffer every second until I say otherwise.”

Her breath caught.

He looked down at her as if studying a game piece he hadn’t decided how to break yet.

“Now get out of my office.”

She turned without another word.

And Damon watched her go, a cruel smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

This was just the beginning.

He would enjoy ruining her.

***

«CRUXNALD CORPORATION, 1:18 PM»

Cassie MacDonald stormed into Cruxnald’s sleek headquarters, her crimson heels clicking sharply on the glossy marble floor. The receptionists and staff along the grand foyer bowed respectfully, murmuring greetings she ignored without so much as a glance. Her expression was set in icy disdain, her stride bold, owning the space like she was born to rule it.

Cruxnald Corporation was a giant, one of the most influential powerhouses in the business world, rivaling even Wolfelux. Its building towered high in the Manhattan skyline, cloaked in smoked glass and chrome. The lobby gleamed under cascading chandeliers, accented with sleek black columns and an indoor water wall that whispered elegance and intimidation. Everything about it screamed wealth, power, and ambition.

Cassie, rude, arrogant, and unbothered, made her way to the executive floor. Her red trench coat swayed behind her like a cape as she strutted past the security checkpoint without needing clearance.

She reached the hallway outside her father’s office where she met Sam, his long-suffering secretary.

“Miss Cassie,” Sam said gently, standing from his desk. “Your father is on an important call“

Cassie didn’t pause. She simply rolled her eyes and pushed past him.

“He’s always on a call,” she muttered. Her thoughts swirled with rage. She’d just come from Wolfelux, and the way Damon had spoken to her still echoed in her ears. Cold. Condescending. Unbothered. And to top it off, that wretched little secretary of his, her smug face, it boiled Cassie’s blood.

“That b***h,” she hissed under her breath as she slammed the office door open.

Her father, Malcolm MacDonald, looked up just as he ended his call. The sleek, silver-haired businessman raised a brow.

“Cas,” he said calmly, setting his phone down. “I just got off the phone with Damon.”

Cassie threw herself into the leather chair opposite his desk, crossing her arms.

“What did he say?” she snapped.

Malcolm sighed and leaned back in his chair. “He reported that you showed up unannounced and caused a scene in his office.”

“What?!” Cassie barked. “He treated me like trash! Like some groupie!”

“Cassie, you were never supposed to make yourself obvious,” her father said coolly. “I told you to get close to him, build trust. Not barge in like a desperate debutante.”

“I’m not desperate,” she said, voice lowering slightly.

But she couldn’t deny it. Damon had always been different. Elusive. Cold. And yes, somehow impossibly magnetic. The harder he pushed her away, the more she found herself drawn in.

Malcolm stood, walking over to the window that overlooked the city.

“Wolfelux is holding more ground every quarter. Their acquisition of Galderon last month pushed them past us in Southeast Asia. We can’t let them dominate the market.”

Cassie tilted her head, her frustration shifting to suspicion. “So what do you really want from Wolfelux?”

“Power, Cassandra. Leverage. A piece of the empire Damon Wolfe built,” he said bluntly.

She frowned. Her father had always been ruthless, but something about the way he said it unnerved her.

“And I suppose I’m the bait?”

“You’re the opportunity,” he corrected.

Cassie stared at him, then looked away.

“Whatever,” she muttered, standing and brushing imaginary lint off her coat. “I’ll handle Damon.”

Malcolm smirked. “Just remember the game you’re playing. Damon Wolfe is not a man who plays fair.”

Cassie walked toward the door, her heels echoing.

Neither am I, she thought.

***

«8:30 PM - WOLFELUX ELITE PUBLISHING & MEDIA»

Aria yawned so hard her jaw cracked.

Twelve hours. Twelve whole hours.

No! scratch that. It had felt more like Twelve years.

Her butt hurt from sitting too long. Her fingers were stiff from typing up endless drafts and formatting reports Victor kept throwing at her like she was a human printer. The soles of her feet were sore from running errands across twenty damn floors. And to top it all off, her brain was mush.

She slumped into her chair and stretched her arms above her head, groaning as her spine popped. With a heavy sigh, she finally reached for her phone.

Notifications exploded on the screen, messages from Olivia and Alina, dozens of missed calls.

Oh crap.

She’d left her phone on Do Not Disturb, just like Damon had strictly ordered.

“No distractions. No phone calls. No exceptions.” His voice echoed in her skull like a stubborn ghost.

Aria rubbed her temples. Damon hadn’t stepped out of his office once since his confrontation with Cassie earlier. Whatever had happened between them must’ve soured his mood more than usual, because he was dead silent, buried in work.

She scrolled through the messages, ignoring Olivia’s dramatic caps lock rants and Alina’s voice notes titled “U better not be dead”. With a sheepish sigh, she dialed Alina’s number.

It barely rang once.

“Little rat,” Alina’s voice shot through the speaker.

“Lina, I’m so sorry,” Aria said, flopping back into her chair. “I’ve been trapped in corporate hell. I’m barely alive.”

“That wolf gave you an arduous workload? I swear I’ll shave his head myself.”

Aria snorted. “Please do. I’ll film it and put it on TikTok.”

Alina laughed. “Come home early. I made dinner.”

“I’ll bring you all the spicy gist,” Aria promised.

“You better. Don’t be late or I’m eating your share,” Alina threatened before hanging up.

With a tired breath, Aria grabbed her bag and headed toward Damon’s office. She paused in front of the sleek black door, her stomach twisting. She didn’t have to report to him before leaving, but somehow, it felt necessary.

Victor had gone to represent Damon in the board meeting. He wouldn’t be back until nine.

Aria inhaled sharply and knocked.

“Come in,” came the low voice from within.

She opened the door slowly. Damon was at his desk, eyes glued to his laptop, fingers flying over the keys like they were in a race. His jaw was clenched, expression unreadable, the only sound in the room the aggressive tapping of his keyboard.

“I… I’m going home now,” she said, voice shaky.

Damon didn’t even look up. “From tomorrow onward, you’ll be staying with me.”

Her heart stopped. “Sir…?”

He raised his head at last, and those piercing gray eyes met hers.

“You’ll be staying at my residence. It’s part of your agreement—five years working and living under my watch.”

Aria blinked. “I….I can’t…”

“It’s not up for debate.” Damon’s tone was a whip. “You signed the contract. You work for me. You stay where I can reach you.”

Her mouth went dry. “Why…?”

“I’m not interested in you, Monroe,” he said, voice as cold as a glacier. “I just want to keep you close enough to torture efficiently.”

God, what sins did I commit to deserve this? Aria thought, numb.

She left his office in a daze and pulled out her phone. She called Olivia.

“YAAH! RIA! WHAT THE HELL?!” Olivia’s voice blasted through the speaker. “I CALLED YOU LIKE A MILLION TIMES!”

“Liv… meet me,” Aria muttered.

“Girl, what happened? It’s late! Damon didn’t fire you, did he?”

“I want to drown in bubble tea and fries. Please.”

“…Fine. But hurry. I’m literally at your house, half-naked. Your sister’s threatening to post my photos.”

“What?! I’m coming now.”

She could already hear Alina in the background shouting, “LITTLE RAT! GET HOME BEFORE I EAT YOUR PILLOW!”

***

«MONROE RESIDENCE - 9:15 PM»

Aria stepped into the cozy warmth of her home and froze.

Her parents, Alina, and Olivia were all gathered in the living room like an intervention team.

“Welcome home, pumpkin!” her mom beamed.

“Pumpkin, how was your day?” her dad asked.

“So great. Beyond amazing,” Aria said, sarcasm dripping like honey. “Truly life-changing.”

“That’s the spirit!” her dad said cheerfully, clapping.

“Tell us everything!” Olivia demanded.

“I’ll need caffeine for that,” Aria muttered.

“Big cat,” she called, heading toward Alina.

“Little rat,” Alina replied, arms open.

“We need to celebrate!” her dad announced suddenly. “Our pumpkin is officially part of Wolfelux!”

Her mom walked out of the kitchen carrying a strawberry cake, homemade and still warm.

“Celebrate?” Aria blinked.

“Yes!” her mom said proudly. “Getting into Wolfelux Elite Publishing & Media is a huge achievement!”

“You should ask Damon Wolfe to help publish your novels,” her dad added.

Aria, Olivia, and Alina exchanged looks.

If only they knew the truth that she wasn’t hired for her writing skills, but enslaved because of someone else’s debt.

Still, she smiled. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll… keep that in mind.”

They laughed, cheered, and sang a cake song her mom made up on the spot. Olivia pretended to cry as Alina shoved frosting into her face. Aria took it all in like medicine—this was the only thing keeping her sane.

Family.

***

«LATER THAT NIGHT | ARIA’S ROOM»

The three girls sat cross-legged on the rug in Aria’s room, surrounded by pillows, snacks, and emotional damage.

“What?!” Olivia shrieked.

“You’re moving in with him?!” Alina gasped.

“Tell me it’s a sick joke,” Olivia said.

“God, I wish,” Aria groaned, face buried in a pillow.

“You’re staying under the same roof with that cold-blooded psycho?” Alina spat.

“Yep. Just bought a one-way ticket to purgatory.”

“That man needs therapy and a good smack. In that order,” Alina declared.

“Yup. Preferably with a frying pan,” Olivia added.

They both tackled Aria into a hug, smothering her with hair and concern.

“You’ll be okay,” Alina whispered.

“We’ll visit every week,” Olivia promised. “And maybe sabotage him with glitter.”

“I’d rather not die young,” Aria muttered.

Then she grinned. “But listen there’s this chick named Cassie…”

“Ooh. Drama?” Olivia leaned in.

Aria mimicked Cassie’s voice, flipping her hair like a diva. “‘Damon, tell your secretary to leave so we can talk privately.’”

They burst into laughter.

“She really said that?” Alina howled.

“And then Damon ignored her like she was a chair.”

“Cold king behavior,” Olivia said with mock admiration.

“Still a psychopath,” Alina added.

They stayed up late, laughing, teasing, and eating Oreos dipped in peanut butter. The room buzzed with love, chaos, and that kind of friendship that stitched broken pieces together.

And for one night, Aria didn’t feel like she was trapped.

She felt… safe.

She would face the morning with Damon Wolfe, but for now she had them.