Chapter 02
1007 Words
The soft hum of the elevator filled the space, its mirrored walls reflecting a tall figure in a charcoal suit.
Damon Leighton stood still, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a slim tablet. His reflection looked just like him, calm and hard to read. His tie was neat, his posture relaxed, and his eyes were cold.
Beside him, his assistant, Liam Carter, adjusted his glasses. “Sir, the board meeting starts in three minutes. I’ve sent the final projections to your tablet.”
Damon’s gaze flicked briefly to the screen, then returned to the elevator doors. “Did the investors confirm their attendance?”
“Yes, sir. Everyone except Mr. Choi from the Seoul branch, his flight was delayed.”
A faint pause.
“Then he can read the minutes,” Damon replied. “We do not delay for anyone.”
The elevator chimed softly.
The doors opened to the thirty-seventh floor, Leighton Jewels Headquarters, the company Damon had rebuilt into power.
As he stepped out, conversations stopped. Employees straightened. The atmosphere shifted without a word from him.
Liam walked beside him, checking his notes. “Sir, profit rose by nine percent this quarter. The Aurelia collection...”
“Ten,” Damon said calmly. “You missed overseas sales.”
“I’ll fix it, sir.”
They reached the glass conference room. The city stretched below, bright, vast, and alive under the afternoon sun.
As Damon entered, every executive stood.
“Mr. Leighton,” the CFO began, “the marketing team wanted to...”
“No need,” Damon said, placing his tablet down. “Focus on expansion. The Paris showroom opens next month. I want everything perfect.”
He sat, long fingers tapping the table once… twice…
“Display the Aurelia diamonds under soft light. Not too bright. Not too dim. They should draw attention without trying.”
A pause.
“Like temptation you cannot refuse.”
No one spoke.
Finally, the head of marketing cleared her throat.
“And the campaign model, sir?”
Damon’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Find someone who doesn’t chase attention… someone who naturally holds it.”
Pens moved quickly. Heads nodded.
Then Liam’s phone vibrated. He silenced it instantly, but Damon noticed.
“Is there a problem?”
“No, sir,” Liam replied quickly, too quickly.
Damon leaned back slightly, voice edged with warning.
“In my meetings, Carter… there are no problems.”
A beat.
“Only results.”
“Yes, sir.”
When the meeting ended, the room exhaled. Executives left whispering among themselves.
Damon remained unmoved.
He stood before the panoramic window, the skyline stretching wide beneath the afternoon light. His reflection in the glass looked flawless… distant…
Yet deep in the silence, boredom brushed across his expression.
He loosened his cufflinks slightly and murmured,
“Perfection becomes… predictable.”
Liam approached carefully.
“Sir, there is one more item in your evening schedule.”
Damon didn’t turn.
“If it is not work, remove it.”
“That is the issue, sir,” Liam said carefully. “It was added this morning… directly by Madam Leighton.”
One brow lifted slightly in the reflection.
“My grandmother?”
“Yes, sir. It appears to be… a dinner engagement.”
A pause. The faint ticking of the clock filled the air.
“With?” Damon asked, his voice… colder now.
“Mr. Davenport’s daughter,” Liam said quietly.
Damon’s lips curved faintly, not a bit smile.
“A date?”
“Listed as such, sir. Seven p.m. at the Vellaro Hotel.”
Daylight reflected faintly across Damon’s face,Composure for him wasn’t effort — it was instinct.
“So,” he said dryly, “my grandmother has begun managing my personal life. Impressive. Perhaps I should put her on payroll.”
Liam cleared his throat.
“Shall I cancel, sir?”
“No.” Damon turned slightly, voice low and decisive.
“If cancelled, she will simply find another way.”
Just then, his phone lit up.
Grandmother.
Damon exhaled softly. “Speak of the devil.”
He answered almost immediately.
“I see you’ve been busy.”
A warm, playful laugh came through.
“Ah, so you discovered my little surprise.”
“You mean the ambush disguised as dinner?”
“Oh, don’t be dramatic, dear,” she teased. “I simply thought you should spend time with someone who isn’t holding contracts or stock reports.”
“I prefer silence.”
“I prefer great-grandchildren.”
Damon’s jaw tightened slightly, though amusement flickered.
“Then you will be waiting a long time.”
“I have patience,” she replied sweetly. “Unlike you.”
“Grandma” his tone lowered, “I do not do blind dates.”
“Then think of it as reconnaissance,” she said cheerfully. “Mr. Davenport’s daughter is single, pretty, educated.”
Damon gave a soft, dry laugh.
“You’ve done your homework.”
“Well, Mr. Davenport gave his assurance,” she replied. “And you, Damon, have stared at jewels long enough. People can shine too.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“You are relentless.”
“I am right. Seven p.m. Do not be late. And wear something that does not make you look like you are about to fire someone.”
The call ended.
Damon stared at the phone briefly, then slipped it into his pocket.
“She never gives me a choice.”
Liam looked up.
“Sir?”
“Nothing.” Damon buttoned his jacket, gaze returning to the wide afternoon skyline. His reflection remained flawless… distant… dangerous.
“Cancel nothing, Carter.”
Liam blinked.
“Sir?”
“If my grandmother went through the trouble of arranging this dinner,” Damon said smoothly, a faint edge of intrigue in his voice,
“I might as well see how this unfolds.”
“I will have the car ready at six-thirty.”
Damon said nothing.
He simply slid his hands into his pockets… and walked out.
- Writer
