Dark obsession

The private jet

9PM. Dubai Airport. Private Terminal.

The Gulfstream jet was white and gold. Damien’s name on the side.

No line. No security. Just us and 2 flight attendants.

My suitcase felt heavy. My heart felt heavier.

“Ms. Vance.”

Damien was already on board. Suit jacket off. Sleeves rolled to his elbows.

Veins in his forearms. I forced myself to look away.

He looked at my laptop bag. “You worked on the flight report?”

“Yes sir. On the drive here.”

“Good girl.”

That word again. It shouldn’t do things to me. But it did.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. To places it had no business going.

He gestured to the seat across from him. “Sit.”

The jet took off 10 minutes later. Smooth. Silent.

Below us, Dubai lights disappeared into darkness.

For an hour, it was just the sound of typing.

Him. Me. The hum of the engines.

I was halfway through formatting the meeting notes when he spoke.

“Look at me.”

I snapped my laptop shut. “Yes sir?”

He was watching me. Eyes dark. Tired. The top button of his shirt was undone.

“You did good today.”

My breath caught. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me.” He leaned forward. Elbows on his knees. “I meant it. Better than my last 3 assistants. You don’t panic. You fix. You stay quiet when you need to.”

Praise from Damien Vance felt like winning an award.

“I just didn’t want to disappoint you.” The truth slipped out.

His jaw ticked. “Is that why you worked until 2AM on the flight report?”

“I— yes sir.”

“Come here.”

I froze. “Sir?”

“Come. Here.”

My legs were shaking as I stood and walked to him. He patted the leather seat next to him.

I sat. Two inches between us. I could smell his cologne. Cedar and something expensive. And him.

“You’re exhausted.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m fine, sir.”

“Liar.” His hand came up. Brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered. Just for a second. The touch was light. Professional? No. Not professional at all. “When was the last time you slept?”

“On the plane to Dubai.”

“That was 18 hours ago.” His thumb grazed my cheekbone. Slow. “You’re running yourself into the ground for me.”

“Because you’re worth it.” I whispered it before I could stop myself.

The air in the jet went still.

Damien’s eyes darkened. “Be careful what you say to me, Ms. Vance.”

“Why?” My voice was barely there.

“Because I take things seriously.” His voice dropped. Rough. “When someone says I’m worth it. When someone looks at me like you do. I remember.”

I couldn’t breathe. “Like what, sir?”

“Like you want me to notice you.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth. Then back to my eyes. “Like you want me to touch you.”

My face flamed. “I don’t—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His hand came to my chin. Lifted my face to his. His thumb brushed my bottom lip. Once. “I see everything. The way your hands shake when I call you ‘good girl’. The way you stand behind my chair. The way you memorized my coffee order on day 2.”

“Yes sir.” It was all I could say.

He stared at me for a long moment. His jaw clenched. Like he was fighting himself.

Then he sighed. Like I was a problem he didn’t mind having.

“Lean back.”

“What?”

“Lean back and close your eyes, Ms. Vance. That’s an order.”

I obeyed. Head against the seat. Eyes closed. Heart racing.

I heard fabric rustle. Then something warm and heavy settled over me.

His suit jacket. But it wasn’t just draped. He adjusted it. His hands smoothing it over my shoulders. His knuckles brushed my collarbone.

“You have 4 hours until we land.” His voice was quiet. Almost gentle. Right by my ear. “Sleep.”

“Sir I should work—”

“Sleep.” Firmer this time. “Or I’ll carry you to the bedroom in the back and tuck you in myself.”

My eyes flew open. “Yes sir.”

“Good.” He sat back in his own seat. Picked up his laptop like nothing happened.

But his jacket smelled like him. And it was draped over my shoulders like armor. Like a claim.

I didn’t sleep.

I couldn’t.

Not with him 2 inches away. Not with his words ringing in my head.

_I see everything. Like you want me to touch you._

Two hours in, turbulence hit. Small. Just a bump.

I jolted. Gasped.

Instantly his hand was on mine. On the armrest. Covering it. His fingers laced through mine.

“You’re alright.” Low. In my ear. His breath warm against my skin.

It lasted 3 seconds. Then he pulled away.

But my hand was still tingling. My skin was on fire.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The rest of the flight was quiet. But it wasn’t awkward.

It was... charged. Thick.

At one point I dozed off. Just for a minute.

I woke up to his jacket slipping off one shoulder.

I reached to fix it and my hand brushed his thigh.

Both of us froze.

His laptop snapped shut.

“Ms. Vance.” His voice was rough. Warning.

“I’m sorry sir, I—”

“Don’t move.”

I froze.

His hand came down. Covered mine where it still rested on his thigh.

Pressed it down for half a second. A heartbeat.

Then he removed it. Slowly.

“Be more careful.” But his voice wasn’t angry. It was strained.

“Yes sir.” I could barely speak.

He stood. Abruptly. Walked to the small bedroom at the back of the jet.

Paused in the doorway. Didn’t turn around.

“Get some real sleep. That’s not a suggestion.”

The door closed.

I sat there for 10 minutes, my heart pounding.

My hand still tingling from where he touched me.

When we landed in New York at 3AM, he was the first off the jet.

I followed, clutching his jacket in my arms.

His driver was waiting. Black car.

“Home, sir?”

“Hotel first. Ms. Vance needs to drop her things.” He looked at me. His eyes were guarded again. CEO mask back on. “Then office.”

“Sir it’s 3AM—”

“And?” One eyebrow. “The London deal closes in 6 hours. We have work.”

I nodded. Even though my body was screaming.

At the hotel, he walked me to my room. 40th floor. Same as him.

He stopped at my door. Close. Too close.

“Ms. Vance.”

“Yes sir?”

“Keep the jacket.”

My heart stopped. “Sir?”

“It’s cold in the office. And you look better in my clothes.”

His mouth quirked. Almost a smile. Almost dangerous. “Don’t read into it.”

His eyes dropped to my lips again. Just for a second.

Then he stepped back. Put space between us.

“Get 3 hours of sleep. Or I’ll know.”

He walked away before I could answer.

I stood in the hallway for a minute, holding his jacket to my chest.

It still smelled like him. Cedar. Power. And something that made me dizzy.

Mine to train.

Mine to correct.

Mine to praise.

Mine to protect.

And now... mine to wear?

I pressed the jacket to my face and inhaled.

I didn’t know what was happening between us.

But I knew one thing.

I wasn’t invisible anymore.

And I wasn’t sure I wanted to be.

Especially not to him.

---

_END OF CHAPTER 5_