Chapter 7 :Bury it Deep
1365 Words
Damian’s POV
I catch Vanessa at the private elevator landing before she can leave, irritation prickling under my collar with every step.
“Vanessa. Wait.” My voice carries down the hallway, sharper than I mean it to sound.
She turns, already composed again, the fury from my office nowhere visible on her face now. “Something wrong, Damian?”
“That was uncalled for.” I keep my voice low even though there’s no one else around to hear it.
“Was it?” Vanessa turns to face me, cool and composed, like she didn’t just try to have my most trusted employee reassigned out of spite. “I was simply making a professional suggestion, Damian.”
“You were trying to get rid of Clara because she makes you uncomfortable.” I cross my arms, refusing to let her deflect this the way she deflects everything else. “That’s not professional. That’s personal.”
“Fine.” Something shifts in her expression, the pleasant mask slipping just enough to show the calculation underneath. “It is personal. I don’t like the way she looks at you. I don’t like the way you look at her either, if we’re being honest.”
“There’s nothing between me and Clara.” The lie comes out faster than I mean it to, automatic, defensive, and I can tell by the look on Vanessa’s face that she doesn’t believe it any more than I do.
“Then it shouldn’t matter to you where she works.” Vanessa’s voice stays sweet and sharp all at once. “If there’s truly nothing there.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” I say again, because it’s the only thing I’m actually certain of right now. “She’s essential to this merger. To this company. That’s not negotiable.”
“Everything is negotiable, Damian. You of all people should know that.” She smooths a hand down the front of her dress, composed again, dangerous again. “You built your entire career on that principle. Don’t pretend it stops applying just because the subject is inconvenient.”
“This isn’t a boardroom, Vanessa.”
“No.” Her eyes narrow slightly. “It’s my marriage. Or the beginning of one, at least. I’d think that warrants at least the same consideration you give a merger contract.”
“Clara isn’t part of our marriage.” I hold her gaze, steady, though something in my chest tightens at the way the sentence sounds out loud.
“Isn’t she?” Vanessa tilts her head, studying me the way she studies a difficult negotiation, searching for the crack she knows is there somewhere. “You showed up to that hospital for her family. You’ve canceled two dinners with my father this month for merger prep that could easily wait until morning. If she isn’t part of this marriage, Damian, she’s certainly taking up a great deal of space inside it.”
“She’s an essential employee. That’s all this is.”
“Then it should be simple enough to prove that, shouldn’t it?” Vanessa’s voice sharpens, precise now, testing. “Reassign her to a different department. Someone else can run point on the merger. If it’s truly just business, you won’t miss a single detail of it.”
The suggestion lands harder than I want it to, my mind immediately rejecting it before I’ve even had time to examine why. “The Hale integration requires her specific institutional knowledge. Reassigning her now would set the timeline back weeks.”
“How convenient.” Vanessa’s smile turns cold, the warmth she wears in public entirely absent now. “An excuse that happens to keep her exactly where you want her.”
“I don’t have to explain every operational decision to you.” My voice comes out harder than I intend, frustration bleeding through despite my best efforts to stay measured. “The company’s needs come first.”
“Do they?” Vanessa laughs, short and humorless. “Or is it simply easier to hide behind the company whenever the conversation gets too close to something you’d rather not examine?”
“That’s not fair.”
“None of this is fair, Damian. Least of all to me.” Something almost vulnerable flickers behind her composed exterior, gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced instantly by the same cool calculation she wears like armor. “I didn’t choose this arrangement any more than you did. But I intend to see it through, and I expect the same from you.”
“And yet somehow, for six years, the company’s needs have always seemed to align perfectly with keeping Clara Bennett three feet from your desk.” Vanessa steps closer, lowering her voice, though the words land no softer for it. “I’m not a fool, Damian. Don’t treat me like one.”
“I’ve never treated you like a fool.”
“Then stop insulting my intelligence by pretending this is about spreadsheets and merger timelines.” Something raw flickers behind her composed exterior, gone as quickly as it appeared. “I understand exactly how much this merger means to your father’s legacy. I understand the board expects this marriage to proceed on schedule. What I don’t understand is why you can’t simply be honest with me about what’s actually happening.”
“Nothing is happening.” I say it firmly, though the words taste strange in my mouth, hollow in a way they’ve never felt before when I’ve said them to her.
“Let me be very clear about something, then.” Her voice drops, precise and deliberate, all pretense of warmth gone entirely. “I’m willing to overlook whatever this is, provided it stays exactly where it is right now—unspoken, unacted upon, and entirely invisible to the press and the board. But if you continue defending her in ways that make people question our engagement, I will make sure the entire board understands exactly why the merger might be in jeopardy.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m reminding you of the terms of an agreement that predates whatever feelings you think you’re entitled to.” Her eyes hold mine, unflinching, absolutely certain of her own ground. “Remember whose signature is also on that merger contract, Damian.”
“I’m well aware of the contract terms.”
“Then act like it.” She rises onto the balls of her feet, smoothing her dress with the same composed elegance she brings to everything, and for a moment I almost believe she’s finished. “Whatever this is with Clara Bennett, Damian, I suggest you bury it. Deeply. Before it costs you everything your father spent his entire life building.”
She turns to leave, and I let her go, unwilling to give her anything else to hold onto tonight. She pauses at the elevator door, one hand against the frame, glancing back at me with an expression that’s somehow more unsettling than her anger.
“Careful, Damian.” Her voice comes out quiet now, almost gentle, which makes it land harder than anything she’s said all night. “People are starting to notice the way you look at her.”
The elevator doors close behind her before I can find a response, leaving me alone on the landing with her warning ringing in my ears, and no good answer for why I can’t seem to make myself deny it the way I should.
I stand there a long moment, staring at the closed doors, replaying the entire conversation, searching for the point where I should have simply said the words that would have ended it cleanly. There’s nothing between us. There never will be. I had a dozen chances to say it and mean it. I said it once, and even I didn’t believe myself.
Somewhere down the hallway behind me, Clara is still in my office, waiting for me to come back and finish the merger review like nothing happened at all. I straighten my jacket, exhale slowly, and turn back toward the office, already dreading how much of tonight’s conversation is written all over my face.
- Writer
