Vows of Vengeance

Chapter 7 - Too Close

Vera had learned a long time ago that dangerous men rarely looked dangerous.

Damian Voss was proof.

He stood at the far end of the conference room with his sleeves rolled to his forearms, one hand resting against the edge of the table as he studied a stack of documents. There was nothing dramatic about him. No raised voice. No obvious threat.

Yet everyone in the room had gone silent.

Including Vera.

She watched him turn a page.

His expression didn't change.

"Leave."

The three executives gathered around the table immediately began collecting their papers.

One of them hesitated.

Damian looked up.

That was all it took.

The man left.

Vera remained seated.

Damian's gaze shifted to her.

"You can go too."

She closed the folder in front of her. "I thought you wanted me to stay."

"I changed my mind."

"That's becoming a habit."

A faint crease appeared between his brows.

For a second, Vera wondered if she'd pushed too far.

Then something unexpected happened.

The corner of his mouth moved.

Not quite a smile.

But close.

"You talk too much."

"And you don't talk enough."

His eyes remained on hers.

"Maybe that's why we're both still alive."

The words were casual.

The look wasn't.

Vera's fingers tightened around the folder.

There it was again—that strange feeling she couldn't quite explain whenever Damian looked at her for too long. It wasn't fear.

Fear, she understood.

This was something else.

Something far more inconvenient.

She stood.

"I'll take that as permission to leave."

"Vera."

She stopped.

Damian had already returned his attention to the documents.

"Come with me."

Her stomach tightened.

"Where?"

"There's something I need you to see."

He walked out without waiting for an answer.

Vera stared after him.

Then she followed.

They ended up on the twenty-eighth floor.

Vera had never been there before.

The elevator opened into a quieter section of the building, far removed from the constant movement of the executive floors. The hallway was lined with dark wood and framed photographs—old photographs.

She slowed as she passed them.

Damian noticed.

"You've never been up here?"

"No."

"Most employees haven't."

"Why?"

"Because there's nothing here for them."

He kept walking.

Vera glanced at another photograph.

A younger Damian stood beside an older man.

His father.

She recognized him immediately from the newspaper photographs she'd studied during her research.

Richard Voss.

The man who had built the foundation of the Voss empire.

The man whose name had appeared in Elena Rossi's father's records.

Vera forced herself to keep walking.

She couldn't allow her expression to change.

Damian opened a door at the end of the corridor.

Inside was a private office.

Unlike the rest of the Voss headquarters, this room wasn't cold or polished. Books lined the walls. A chessboard sat on a small table near the window. There were photographs scattered across a shelf, some framed, some old enough to have faded.

It looked lived in.

Human.

Vera stared.

"This is your office?"

"One of them."

She looked at him.

"You have multiple offices?"

"I'm a man of many problems."

That almost made her laugh.

Almost.

Damian walked toward the window.

"Come here."

She joined him.

Chicago stretched beneath them, illuminated by the fading afternoon light.

From this height, the city looked almost peaceful.

It wasn't.

Vera knew better.

Damian folded his arms.

"I need your opinion."

"About?"

"The Rossi acquisition."

Her heart skipped.

She kept her face neutral.

"What about it?"

"You've reviewed the documents."

"Some of them."

"What doesn't make sense?"

Vera looked at him.

He wasn't asking because he wanted reassurance.

He wanted the truth.

She carefully considered her answer.

"The numbers."

His expression sharpened.

"Explain."

"The transaction was presented as a straightforward acquisition. But the valuation doesn't match the assets listed in the original reports."

Damian said nothing.

Vera continued.

"Someone either inflated the value of the Rossi holdings or deliberately hid something."

His jaw tightened.

"That's what I thought."

She studied him.

"You think someone inside Voss Group changed the records."

"I know someone did."

The certainty in his voice unsettled her.

"How?"

"I found two versions of the same document."

Vera's pulse quickened.

"Who had access?"

"That's the problem."

He reached into a drawer and pulled out a thin file.

He placed it on the desk.

"I've spent the last two days tracing the authorization history."

"And?"

"Someone used credentials belonging to a senior member of my family."

Vera looked at the file.

"Do you know who?"

"No."

She expected anger.

Instead, Damian looked tired.

For the first time, she noticed the faint shadows beneath his eyes.

"You haven't slept."

His gaze lifted.

"That's your conclusion?"

"It's an observation."

"You observe too much."

"It's part of my job."

His fingers moved toward the signet ring on his right hand.

He turned it once.

Then again.

Vera had noticed the habit before.

Whenever Damian was tense, his thumb found that ring.

"Why do you care?" he asked.

She frowned.

"About what?"

"Whether I've slept."

The question caught her off guard.

"I don't."

A pause.

"You're lying."

Her breath caught.

He stepped closer.

Not enough to touch her.

Just enough to make the room feel smaller.

"You've been lying since the day you walked into my office."

Her heart began pounding.

For one terrifying second, Vera wondered if he knew.

Then Damian looked away.

"But I haven't decided why."

She swallowed.

"Maybe I'm just difficult to read."

"No."

His voice was quiet.

"You're easy to read when you're angry. When you're annoyed. When you're pretending not to care."

He looked back at her.

"You're only difficult to read when you're afraid."

Vera's chest tightened.

She forced a small smile.

"Maybe I'm afraid of you."

"Are you?"

She looked directly into his eyes.

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

Damian's expression changed.

Something unreadable passed through his eyes.

Then he stepped away.

"Good."

They left the office nearly an hour later.

Vera expected Damian to return to work.

Instead, he stopped beside the elevator.

"Have dinner with me."

She stared at him.

"What?"

"Dinner."

"I heard you."

"Then why are you looking at me like I asked you to marry me?"

She almost smiled.

"Because you don't seem like someone who invites employees to dinner."

"I don't."

"Then why me?"

His gaze held hers.

"I've been asking myself that."

That answer should have made her uncomfortable.

Instead, it did something worse.

It made her curious.

She hated curiosity.

Curiosity had no place in a mission like hers.

Especially not where Damian Voss was concerned.

Still, she nodded.

"Fine."

The restaurant was quiet.

Private.

Expensive enough that Vera immediately understood why Damian had chosen it.

They sat across from each other at a secluded table.

For the first ten minutes, they barely spoke.

It was strange.

Damian was different outside the office.

Less guarded, perhaps.

Or maybe Vera was simply seeing the cracks in the armor for the first time.

He didn't check his phone once.

He didn't discuss business.

He simply sat there.

"You're staring," he said.

Vera looked away.

"I was thinking."

"About?"

"You."

His eyebrows lifted.

She regretted the answer immediately.

"Professionally."

"Of course."

The amusement in his voice irritated her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You smiled."

"I did not."

"You did."

"Prove it."

Vera shook her head.

For the first time since she'd met him, she laughed.

It was brief.

Unplanned.

And Damian went completely still.

The look on his face made the laughter disappear.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You keep saying that."

"Because I don't know what to say."

She studied him.

That was the first honest thing he'd said all evening.

"You're not what I expected."

His expression hardened slightly.

"What did you expect?"

"The man everyone talks about."

"And what do they say?"

"That you're ruthless."

"I am."

"Cold."

"Usually."

"Controlling."

"Definitely."

She hesitated.

"But you're not always those things."

Silence.

Damian looked down at his glass.

"My father taught me that softness is expensive."

Vera's expression changed.

"What happened?"

He didn't answer immediately.

"My father believed trust was something you earned once and kept forever."

His jaw tightened.

"He was wrong."

Vera said nothing.

There was something in his voice she hadn't heard before.

Pain.

Not weakness.

Pain.

And suddenly the man sitting across from her wasn't the untouchable billionaire she'd spent weeks researching.

He was a son.

A man who had lost something.

Someone who had learned to build walls because whatever existed behind them had once been destroyed.

Vera's mission suddenly felt heavier.

Because it was easier to hate a monster.

It was much harder to hate a man.

Damian looked at her.

"You've gone quiet."

"I'm thinking."

"That's dangerous."

"Why?"

"Because people usually make terrible decisions when they think too much."

She smiled faintly.

"Maybe."

Their eyes met.

And for one suspended moment, neither looked away.

Vera's heart beat faster.

She broke the silence first.

"We should go."

Damian's expression shifted.

"Why?"

"Because it's late."

"That's not the real reason."

She stood.

"I have work tomorrow."

He rose as well.

"Vera."

She stopped.

"Don't make the mistake of thinking you know me."

His voice was quiet.

"Because you don't."

She looked at him.

"I know."

But as she walked toward the exit, she realized something that frightened her far more than Damian ever had.

She wanted to.

Across the street, Marcus watched the restaurant doors open.

Damian emerged first.

Vera followed.

They weren't touching.

They didn't need to be.

Something had changed.

Marcus lowered the phone from his ear.

"Yes," he said quietly.

A pause.

"I've seen enough."

His eyes followed Vera as she disappeared into the waiting car.

Then he looked at Damian.

"The girl is getting too close."

He ended the call.

And somewhere inside the city, someone who had been waiting five years for the past to stay buried finally made a decision.

The truth about Elena Rossi was no longer safe.