CHAPTER TWO:THE DEVIL KNOWS YOUR NAME
1083 Words
The moment the door to Conference Room 13B clicked shut behind her, Eden could finally breathe again.
Or try to.
Her heart was still pounding, her skin prickled with heat, and Cassian Blackwood’s voice echoed in her mind like a dangerous hymn:
> "Let’s see how long your armor lasts."
What the hell had just happened?
She practically stumbled back into her cubicle, ignoring the curious glance from one of the paralegals. She sat down, hands trembling slightly as she reached for her tablet.
He knew who she was.
Not just her name. Not just her résumé.
He knew her. Her father. Her past. Her world.
And he’d looked at her like he’d been waiting.
Eden closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. You’re here to learn, to work, to build something real.
Not to crumble the second a man with a sinful voice and a jawline carved in vengeance looked at you like you were already his.
She took a breath.
And failed to remember how to exhale.
---
Across the building, high above the cubicles and quiet ambitions, Cassian Blackwood stood alone in his office — a cathedral of glass, shadow, and silence.
He didn’t move. He didn’t blink.
His gaze remained fixed on the live security feed glowing across the lower monitor on his desk.
Eden Haven.
She sat perfectly still at her desk, but her body betrayed her. The way she gripped her tablet. The way her lashes fluttered like they were bracing for a storm. The way she licked her lips when she was nervous.
He’d seen it all.
And he felt it — that strange, raw thing uncoiling inside him.
He didn’t believe in fate. Or God. Or signs.
But Eden was all three. And she’d just walked through his door wrapped in innocence and covered in her father’s name — the same name Cassian had sworn he would one day destroy.
He should’ve sent her away.
He should’ve called HR, cut the internship, buried her application.
Instead, he invited her into the lion’s den.
And now he couldn’t stop watching her.
Cassian’s fingers drummed once against the desk, slow and deliberate.
> “Careful, little dove.”
---
Eden made it through another thirty minutes of contract review before the next wave of nerves hit.
“Miss Haven,” came Ms. Keene’s clipped voice over her cubicle wall, “Mr. Blackwood would like the Mercury file delivered to his office. Right now.”
She froze. “Me?”
“Yes. You’re capable of walking, aren’t you?”
Barely.
Eden grabbed the sealed black folder, smoothed down her skirt, and whispered a single prayer under her breath.
Not the Lord’s Prayer this time.
This one was simple: Don’t make a fool of yourself. Don’t let him see you shake. Don’t trip in your heels, for the love of God.
She walked the long corridor to his office like she was heading to the guillotine.
---
The door was slightly ajar.
Inside, she could hear his voice — low, controlled, brutal.
“I don’t care what she claims. We have the receipts, the photos, and a signed NDA. If she wants to go to war, I’ll bury her with her own lies.”
A pause.
Then softer, more amused: “And if the senator calls, tell him next time he wants discretion, he should keep his pants on.”
Eden hesitated.
He was terrifying. And so calm about it. Like ruining people was just another day on the job.
She knocked softly, trying not to peek.
“Come in,” he said.
She stepped inside, clutching the file.
He was seated behind a sleek black desk, looking like something painted in obsidian. No tie. Sleeves rolled. Veins in his forearms visible as he wrote something by hand.
He glanced up.
“Miss Haven.”
His voice was smoother than whiskey and sharper than the knife she wished she had to cut the tension in the room.
“You brought the Mercury file?”
“Yes, sir.”
She stepped forward and placed it gently on his desk. His eyes followed her hand. She withdrew it quickly.
He didn’t move.
“You were listening.”
Her breath caught. “Excuse me?”
“You lingered at the door,” he said simply. “Why?”
Eden straightened her spine. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”
“But you did.” He stood slowly, walking around the desk until he was standing far too close. “Is that part of your training, Miss Haven? Or just curiosity?”
She met his gaze evenly. “Only when the devil’s speaking.”
Cassian’s mouth curved — not into a smile. Into something darker.
“You think I’m the devil?”
“I think you enjoy acting like one.”
“I’m not pretending.” His voice dipped. “You know that.”
Silence settled thick between them. Eden’s pulse thundered in her ears, but she held his gaze.
He leaned in slightly, voice a murmur now. “Your father ever tell you how many secrets can live in silence?”
“He taught me that light exposes everything.”
Cassian tilted his head, his eyes drifting down her face. “He taught you well. Shame he won’t be here to protect you.”
Something sharp twisted in her stomach. “I don’t need protection.”
“No,” he said, stepping back. “You need discipline.”
Eden swallowed. Hard.
Cassian returned to his desk and tapped the folder once.
“Leave it. Go back to your desk.”
“That’s it?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He looked up.
His gaze burned straight through her.
“For now.”
---
Back at her cubicle, Eden collapsed into her chair and pressed a hand to her chest.
She wasn’t sure if she was breathing or burning.
She didn’t know what kind of game Cassian was playing.
But she had a sinking feeling she’d already lost the first round — by walking into his office and not wanting to walk back out.
---
Meanwhile, in his office, Cassian stood at the window again, watching the city smolder below.
He should’ve stayed away. Should’ve ignored the pull. Should’ve let someone else handle her.
But something in her eyes… something stubborn, good, untouched…
It wasn’t just temptation.
It was danger.
He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
> “You should flee from me, dove. I am evil.”
---
- Writer
