PROTECTING WHAT ISN'T YOURS ..
2414 Words
The following Monday began with three things Amara hated.
An early alarm.
A traffic delay.
And Damian Blackwood in an even worse mood than usual.
She walked into Blackwood Holdings at exactly eight o'clock, balancing her coffee in one hand and a stack of files in the other.
“Good morning!”
Nobody answered.
Amara slowed down.
She looked around the executive floor.
Every employee looked terrified.
People were whispering.
Nobody was smiling.
Amara immediately knew.
“He's angry,” she whispered.
Damian's secretary assistant, Mr. Harris, looked up from his desk.
“You have no idea.”
“What happened?”
Mr. Harris leaned closer.
“Mr. Victor Hale is coming.”
Amara frowned.
“Who's Victor Hale?”
Mr. Harris stared at her.
“You don't know Victor Hale?”
“Apparently not.”
“He owns Hale International.”
“Okay.”
“He's worth billions.”
“Still okay.”
“He has one of the largest shipping companies in the country.”
Amara placed her coffee on her desk.
“And?”
Mr. Harris lowered his voice.
“And he hates losing.”
Amara smiled.
“Then he and Damian must have a lot in common.”
Mr. Harris looked horrified.
“Please don't let Mr. Blackwood hear you say that.”
“Why?”
“Because I enjoy being employed.”
Amara laughed.
At that exact moment, Damian's office door opened.
Everyone went silent.
He stepped out.
Black suit.
Dark expression.
Perfectly styled hair.
And an aura so cold that even Amara briefly reconsidered smiling at him.
Briefly.
“Good morning, boss.”
Damian looked at her.
“Late.”
She checked the clock.
“It is exactly eight.”
“You were supposed to be here before eight.”
“You said eight.”
“Exactly.”
She stared at him.
He stared back.
Then Amara smiled.
“You're looking very handsome today.”
Silence.
Mr. Harris nearly dropped his tablet.
Damian's eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“I said you look handsome.”
“Why?”
“Because you do.”
His expression became suspicious.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
“That means you want something.”
“It doesn't.”
“Amara.”
She sighed.
“Fine. I want you to have a better day.”
Damian looked at her for several seconds.
Something softened in his eyes.
Only slightly.
Then it disappeared.
“I don't need help having a good day.”
“Obviously.”
His expression darkened.
She smiled.
Damian walked back into his office.
“Meeting in fifteen minutes.”
Amara followed him.
“I'm coming.”
“You have to.”
“I know. I just wanted to annoy you.”
He stopped walking.
Amara almost walked into his back.
Damian turned slowly.
“Amara.”
“Yes?”
“Today, please behave.”
Her smile widened.
“No promises.”
---
The conference room was already prepared when Victor Hale arrived.
Amara stood near the screen, organizing the presentation.
Damian sat at the head of the table.
Victor entered surrounded by three executives.
He was older than Damian, perhaps in his late forties, with a sharp smile and the kind of expensive suit that announced wealth before he said a word.
His eyes immediately moved to Damian.
“Blackwood.”
“Hale.”
Victor sat down.
No handshake.
No unnecessary politeness.
Amara immediately understood why Damian had been in a bad mood.
The meeting began.
For the first twenty minutes, everything remained professional.
Damian discussed the proposed partnership.
Victor challenged every figure.
Damian answered every question.
Amara watched quietly, impressed despite herself.
When Damian was focused on business, he became almost impossible to read.
Nothing rattled him.
Nothing surprised him.
Every question had an answer.
Every threat had a response.
Every attempt to gain control of the room failed.
Victor Hale might have been powerful.
But Damian Blackwood was not intimidated by powerful men.
Then Victor noticed Amara.
“And who is this?”
Damian did not look at her.
“My assistant.”
Victor's eyes moved toward Amara.
She smiled politely.
“Amara Cole.”
He nodded slowly.
“Pretty.”
Amara's smile became professional.
“Thank you.”
Damian's fingers stopped moving.
Victor leaned back.
“I've heard about you.”
Amara frowned.
“Have you?”
“Yes. New assistant. Works closely with Blackwood. Seems you've made quite an impression.”
She ignored the implication.
“I hope so. That's generally the goal when you're trying to keep your job.”
One of Victor's executives laughed.
Victor smiled.
“You're confident.”
“I try to be.”
“For someone with such an ordinary background.”
The room went silent.
Amara's hand tightened around her tablet.
She had heard comments like that before.
Middle class.
Orphan.
Nobody important.
People often assumed she should feel ashamed of where she came from.
Amara had spent years learning not to let them see when words hurt.
So she smiled.
“I take that as a compliment.”
Victor's smile widened.
“It wasn't.”
Amara's eyes met his.
“Then I suppose your intention failed.”
A few people looked down to hide their reactions.
Victor's expression hardened.
Damian said nothing.
But Amara noticed his jaw tighten.
Victor continued.
“Ambition is interesting. Some people are born into power. Others spend their lives trying to reach the bottom step.”
Amara's smile faded slightly.
“Then it's fortunate that I'm not interested in standing at anyone else's bottom step.”
The silence became heavier.
Victor looked at Damian.
“You allow your employees to speak like this?”
Damian slowly closed the file in front of him.
The sound was quiet.
But it seemed to fill the room.
“She answered your question.”
Victor laughed.
“I was only making conversation.”
“No,” Damian said.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“You were being disrespectful.”
Victor's smile disappeared.
Amara turned toward Damian.
He was looking directly at Victor now.
And something in his eyes had changed.
The CEO was gone.
The man sitting beside her was colder.
More dangerous.
Victor leaned forward.
“You're ending this meeting over a few words?”
Damian stood.
The other executives followed.
“We're done.”
Victor stared at him.
“What?”
“The meeting.”
“We haven't finished discussing the contract.”
“I have.”
Victor gave a humorless laugh.
“You're willing to walk away from a deal worth hundreds of millions because I offended your assistant?”
Damian's expression did not change.
“I'm walking away because you don't understand the difference between business and disrespect.”
Victor's face hardened.
“You're choosing her over this contract?”
Amara held her breath.
Damian's eyes moved briefly toward her.
Then back to Victor.
“I'm choosing what I allow inside my company.”
The room became completely silent.
Victor stood.
“You'll regret this.”
Damian's expression remained calm.
“No.”
Victor stared at him for a moment longer.
Then he walked out.
His executives followed behind him.
The door closed.
Amara slowly turned toward Damian.
“You just lost a massive contract.”
He picked up his file.
“He'll come back.”
“You don't know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?”
Damian looked at her.
“Because he needs us more than we need him.”
Amara stared.
Then she slowly smiled.
“You defended me.”
“I defended my employee.”
“Oh.”
“Don't.”
“Don't what?”
“Make this irritating.”
Her smile widened.
“I think I'm touched.”
“You'll recover.”
“You know, beneath all that arrogance, you might actually be a decent person.”
Damian looked at her.
“You're mistaken.”
“I don't think I am.”
“Amara.”
“Yes?”
“Get back to work.”
She picked up her tablet.
“Yes, Mr. Decent Person.”
His stare followed her until she left.
---
The office remained quiet for the rest of the afternoon.
Amara expected Damian to be angry.
She expected him to blame her.
After all, Victor had made the situation worse because she answered him.
But Damian said nothing about it.
Not once.
At five-thirty, Amara entered his office with several documents.
“You have three reports to sign.”
Damian took them.
“And tomorrow's schedule.”
He looked at it.
“Cancel lunch.”
“With who?”
“Everyone.”
“That's not how lunch works.”
“I'll work.”
“You always work.”
“Yes.”
“You never eat.”
“I do.”
“Coffee is not food.”
Damian looked up.
“You're still discussing my eating habits?”
“Someone has to.”
“I don't need someone to.”
“That sounds lonely.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Damian became still.
Amara immediately regretted it.
She lowered her eyes.
“Sorry.”
He didn't answer.
The room became quiet.
Amara placed the final file on his desk.
“I'm going home.”
“Wait.”
She stopped.
Damian looked at the documents.
Then at her.
“Don't meet Elias tomorrow.”
Amara blinked.
“What?”
“Cancel.”
She stared at him.
“Why?”
“I have a meeting.”
“And?”
“I need you there.”
“What time?”
“Seven.”
She laughed.
“Damian.”
“What?”
“I'm meeting Elias at seven-thirty.”
His expression darkened.
“Cancel.”
“Absolutely not.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Amara.”
“Damian.”
“Cancel the date.”
She crossed her arms.
“Why are you so interested in who I have dinner with?”
“I'm not.”
“You are.”
“No.”
“Then stop ordering me around.”
Damian leaned back.
“I need you tomorrow.”
“You need me every day.”
“This is important.”
“So is my life.”
The words struck him.
Amara saw it.
She softened slightly.
“You don't get to decide everything for me.”
Damian's jaw tightened.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Because sometimes, you really don't act like it.”
Silence.
Amara picked up her bag.
“Goodnight, Damian.”
She reached the door.
“Amara.”
She turned.
His expression was unreadable.
“Who is Elias to you?”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Why?”
“Answer.”
She smiled.
“Jealous?”
“No.”
“You didn't deny it quickly enough.”
“I did.”
“You didn't.”
Damian's eyes narrowed.
Amara laughed.
Then she opened the door.
“Goodnight, boss.”
---
The next evening, Amara met Elias at a quiet restaurant near his factory.
She had known him for so long that sitting across from him felt easy.
Safe.
Normal.
Elias smiled as she arrived.
“You're late.”
“Traffic.”
“Excuse accepted.”
“You're too nice.”
“I've been told.”
She sat down.
Elias looked at her.
“You're distracted.”
Amara sighed.
“Am I that obvious?”
“To me.”
She looked at him.
His voice was gentle.
“Damian?”
Amara immediately frowned.
“Why does everyone keep bringing him up?”
Elias smiled.
“Because you do.”
“I don't.”
“You mentioned him before sitting down.”
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Elias laughed.
“You see?”
Amara sighed.
“He's impossible.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
She looked away.
For several seconds, she thought about Damian.
His dark eyes.
His cold voice.
The way he had defended her.
The way he had told Victor Hale the meeting was over.
The way he had asked her not to see Elias.
Her heart beat differently.
She hated it.
“I don't know,” she finally said.
Elias became quiet.
“Don't know what?”
“What I feel.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then nodded.
“I understand.”
Amara's heart tightened.
“Elias—”
“You don't have to explain.”
“But I don't want to hurt you.”
He smiled gently.
“Then don't lie to me.”
She looked down.
He reached across the table.
“Just be honest.”
Amara nodded.
“I will.”
Neither of them noticed the dark car parked across the street.
Damian sat in the back seat.
His eyes fixed on the restaurant.
“Sir?”
His driver glanced at him through the mirror.
Damian did not answer.
Inside, Amara smiled at something Elias said.
Damian's jaw tightened.
“Go.”
The driver blinked.
“Sir?”
“Drive.”
“Yes, sir.”
The car moved.
Damian leaned back.
He looked out the window.
And for the entire journey home, he could not get one thought out of his mind.
Amara was with another man.
It shouldn't matter.
She was his employee.
Nothing more.
She could date whoever she wanted.
It was none of his business.
So why did it feel like someone had placed a stone inside his chest?
Why did the thought of another man making her smile bother him?
Damian closed his eyes.
His phone rang.
He answered.
“What?”
His grandfather's voice came through.
“Still working?”
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
Damian's eyes opened.
“What?”
“Your driver told me you were outside a restaurant for forty minutes.”
Damian's expression darkened.
“I'll fire him.”
His grandfather laughed.
“Jealous?”
“No.”
“Interesting.”
“I wasn't watching anyone.”
“Then why were you there?”
Damian remained silent.
His grandfather laughed again.
“Goodnight, Damian.”
The call ended.
Damian stared at his phone.
Then, slowly, he looked out the window.
Jealous.
The word followed him home.
He hated it.
Because for the first time in his life—
Damian Blackwood was beginning to understand what it meant to want something that did not belong to him.
And the worst part?
Amara Cole was smiling somewhere with another man.
And Damian was no longer certain that he could pretend not to care.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD