Scentless

???

The encounter in the lobby lingered in my mind long after I left the building. Damon’s glare, brief as it was, felt seared into my memory. I’d seen anger in his eyes before—cold, calculated, always restrained. But this was different. This was raw, unfiltered, like a storm barely held at bay. And it was aimed at Liam. Or maybe... at me?

The thought sent a shiver down my spine as I slid into my car. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles whitening. “Get a grip, Ava,” I muttered, shaking my head as if that could dislodge the swirling confusion inside it.

The drive home was a blur, the city lights blending into a kaleidoscope of hazy color. By the time I reached my apartment, the tension in my chest had settled into a dull ache. I kicked off my heels, sinking onto the couch and closing my eyes. But even in the silence of my living room, Damon’s piercing gaze haunted me.

I replayed the moment in my head—the way his jaw tightened, the way his shoulders stiffened. It wasn’t just anger. It was something deeper, something primal. And it scared me. But what scared me even more was how it made my pulse quicken, how it made me feel... alive.

---

The next morning, I arrived at work determined to keep my head down and focus. But as soon as I stepped off the elevator, I felt it—that electric charge in the air, the invisible tether that seemed to pull me toward Damon’s office. I shook it off, forcing myself to my desk and burying myself in reports.

For a while, it worked. I managed to drown out the noise in my head with numbers and deadlines. But then, the dreaded buzz of my phone broke through the fragile calm.

**Damon:** *My office. Now.*

I stared at the screen, my stomach twisting. His messages were always curt, but this one felt sharper, more urgent. Swallowing hard, I grabbed my notebook and made my way to his office. Each step felt heavier than the last, my heart pounding in my ears.

When I entered, Damon was seated behind his desk, his eyes already locked on me. His tie was slightly loosened, the top button of his shirt undone—a rare deviation from his usual pristine appearance. He looked tired, almost disheveled, but his gaze was as sharp as ever.

“Close the door,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

I complied, the soft click of the door sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet room. Damon stood, pacing behind his desk like a caged animal. His movements were precise yet restless, his hands occasionally flexing at his sides.

“What’s going on, Damon?” I asked, my voice steady despite the unease coiling in my stomach.

He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. For a moment, he just stared, his jaw working as if he was wrestling with something he couldn’t quite say. Finally, he spoke.

“I don’t like being kept in the dark, Ava,” he said, his tone measured but laced with an edge.

I frowned, confused. “Kept in the dark about what?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he took a step closer. “About Liam.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Liam? What about him?”

Damon’s gaze intensified, and he closed the distance between us in a few deliberate steps. He loomed over me, his presence overwhelming. “I need to know if he’s a distraction,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

My heart raced, a mixture of indignation and something far more dangerous flooding my system. “He’s not a distraction,” I said firmly, meeting his gaze head-on. “And even if he was, that’s none of your business.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But instead, he stepped back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Everything about you is my business, Ava,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re part of my team. Your focus, your performance—it all matters.”

I crossed my arms, refusing to back down. “Is that all it is? Performance? Focus? Because it feels like there’s more to this than you’re admitting.”

He froze, his hand still tangled in his hair. For a moment, his mask slipped, and I saw it—the vulnerability, the conflict. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the cold, unyielding façade I’d come to know so well.

“You’re dismissed,” he said abruptly, turning his back to me.

Frustration flared in my chest, but I knew better than to push him further. Without another word, I left his office, my emotions swirling in a chaotic storm.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Damon’s words replayed in my mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. By the time I got home, I was emotionally drained. But the moment I stepped through the door, my phone buzzed with a new message.

**Liam:** *Drinks tonight?*

For a moment, I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to complicate things further. But then I thought of Damon’s possessive glare, his cryptic words. A spark of defiance ignited within me.

**Me:** *Sure. Where?*

---

The bar was crowded, the hum of conversation blending with the soft strains of music. Liam greeted me with his usual easygoing smile, a drink already waiting for me at the table.

“Rough day?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I laughed, shaking my head. “You have no idea.”

We fell into an easy rhythm, the tension of the day slowly melting away. But just as I was starting to relax, a familiar figure caught my eye. My breath hitched. Damon stood near the entrance, his gaze fixed on me like a predator locking onto its prey.

I stiffened, my heart pounding. What was he doing here? And why did he look so... furious?

Liam followed my gaze, his expression shifting. “Well, speak of the devil,” he said, his tone light but tinged with something I couldn’t quite place.

Damon approached our table with measured strides, his eyes never leaving mine. He stopped beside us, his presence commanding as always.

“Liam,” he said coolly, giving him a curt nod before turning to me. “Ava, can I have a word?”

Liam raised an eyebrow, glancing between us. “Is this work-related, or...?”

Damon’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he looked at me, his expression unreadable.

I hesitated, torn between defiance and the undeniable pull Damon had on me. Finally, I stood, giving Liam an apologetic smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Damon led me outside, the cool night air biting against my skin. He stopped a few steps away from the entrance, turning to face me. His eyes burned with an intensity that made my breath catch.

“What are you doing, Ava?” he demanded, his voice low but fierce.

I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze. “Having a drink with a friend. Is that a crime now?”

His eyes narrowed, his frustration evident. “You know it’s more than that.”

“Do I?” I challenged, my voice rising. “Because all I see is my boss crossing lines he has no right to cross.”

He stepped closer, his proximity overwhelming. “You’re right,” he said, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity. “I have no right. But that doesn’t mean I can stop.”

My heart raced, his words sending a jolt of electricity through me. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the tension between us thick and undeniable. But before either of us could speak, the sound of laughter from inside broke the spell.

Damon’s expression hardened, and he stepped back. “Go back to your friend,” he said, his voice cold. “Enjoy your evening.”

And just like that, he walked away, leaving me standing in the chilly night, my emotions a tangled mess. As I watched his retreating figure, one thing became painfully clear: whatever this was between us, it was far from over.