Playtime

Chapter 1

Kyra Matthews was not a woman who believed in the concept of fate. Life was something to be controlled, and control was something she’d learned early. After her parents' messy divorce, she made a vow to herself that she would never be swept up by chaos or passion—especially not in the workplace. No, Kyra was meticulous, deliberate, and precise. Every action, every word, every glance was calculated. She had learned to live with an ironclad grip on her emotions, making her an efficient assistant to Damon Vassallo, the CEO of Vassallo Enterprises.

From the moment she entered his office for the first time three years ago, Kyra had known what Damon represented. A legend in his own right, his reputation was one of cold control and uncompromising power. With dark, intense eyes that seemed to see right through people, he was a man who rarely smiled and never tolerated mistakes. In an environment like this, Kyra thought, staying unnoticed and staying professional was the key to surviving.

But when she first stepped into that glass-walled office, she couldn’t have been prepared for the magnetic pull Damon exuded. Tall, with a chiseled jawline and a presence that could silence a room just by walking into it, Damon Vassallo was the kind of man whose allure made the air feel heavier. He didn’t need to speak to command attention—his very being made people listen, made them watch. And despite her best intentions, Kyra felt it, too. From the moment their eyes met, she felt a strange, unexpected jolt in her chest.

“Miss Matthews, I trust you’re prepared for the day?” His voice was low, smooth, and firm—completely devoid of warmth, but for some reason, it made her pulse race.

Kyra’s breath hitched slightly, and she quickly regained composure, offering a tight, professional smile. “Yes, Mr. Vassallo. I’m ready for anything you need.”

Damon’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying her with an intensity that made her uneasy. It wasn’t just that he was assessing her for her capabilities—it was as if he was measuring something else. Something unspoken. Her throat tightened as she nodded to acknowledge him. She wasn’t used to being looked at that way, especially not by someone of his caliber. But she knew better than to let it show.

The day unfolded with Kyra performing the usual tasks. It was all routine. She managed his schedule, organized files, and answered his calls. But there was something about Damon that kept her on edge. It was in the way he never seemed to blink, never seemed to look away when he spoke to her. There was a force behind his gaze—something she had never encountered in anyone before. He saw *through* her, and it made her feel both exposed and alive at the same time.

---

The first sign of something shifting between them came after a tense meeting with potential clients. Kyra had prepared the presentation, and Damon had led the conversation with his usual ice-cold precision. But when the deal was closed, and the clients left the room, there was a brief moment of silence. For once, Damon did not immediately dive into the next task. Instead, he turned his attention to Kyra with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat.

“You did well today,” he said, his voice low and thick with something that wasn’t praise.

Kyra’s heart thudded against her chest. She wasn’t used to compliments from him, especially not ones that carried such weight. “I’m just doing my job, Mr. Vassallo,” she replied, keeping her tone as neutral as possible.

He took a step closer, his gaze locking with hers. “Your job,” he repeated, as if tasting the words. “You don’t just do your job, Kyra. You do it better than anyone else here.”

Her pulse quickened. “I—I’m glad to be of help.”

Damon studied her for a moment longer, and for the first time, she felt something shift in the air between them. There was a sharpness in his eyes now, an unmistakable interest that made her feel suddenly vulnerable. It wasn’t just professional admiration—there was something else. Something dangerous.

“You’re not like the others,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’re... different.”

Her breath caught. She swallowed hard, her composure faltering for a second. “Different how?” she asked, her voice sounding almost breathless despite herself.

“Different in the way you carry yourself. The way you don’t fall into line like everyone else,” Damon replied, his voice deepening with something that bordered on a challenge. “It’s rare. But I like it.”

Kyra wanted to protest. She wanted to remind him that she wasn’t here for anything but her work. But the words wouldn’t come. She had always prided herself on control, but Damon had found a way to make her feel... disarmed.

Before she could respond, he stepped away, breaking the connection between them. “We’ll continue this conversation later,” he said casually, his tone back to its usual cool professionalism.

She nodded, unsure of whether she was relieved or disappointed.

---

The days that followed were a mix of unease and confusion for Kyra. Nothing outwardly had changed. She kept to her tasks, never allowing herself to indulge in the strange, gnawing feeling that Damon had left in her chest. But every time their paths crossed, she felt it again—a heat that pooled low in her belly. An attraction she couldn’t control.

And then came the gala.

Kyra had been working tirelessly for weeks on the preparations, and by the time the event arrived, she was exhausted. But she knew her place—standing beside Damon, making sure everything went smoothly, never drawing attention to herself. The night was full of powerful people, and Kyra was just one small cog in the machine. But when Damon arrived, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the room seemed to shift. His presence was magnetic, undeniable.

Damon, however, wasn’t paying attention to the other guests. His eyes, as always, found Kyra first.

“Are you enjoying the evening, Miss Matthews?” His voice came from behind her, smooth and familiar.

She turned, startled, but then felt an undeniable flutter in her chest as she met his gaze. He was standing closer than she had expected, so close that the air between them seemed charged. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, everything else in the room faded away.

“I... Yes, Mr. Vassallo,” she said, her voice betraying a hint of breathlessness. “I’m just... trying to stay on top of everything.”

Damon’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. “You do that well. But you need to stop hiding behind the work sometimes, Kyra. Enjoy the night.”

Before she could respond, he reached out and gently touched the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd. The touch was brief, but it was enough to send a jolt through her. His hand was warm, and the connection was electric. She couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t dismiss it.

As they continued through the room, Damon’s hand remained at her back, a subtle yet persistent contact. Every nerve in Kyra’s body seemed to come alive under his touch. She tried to focus on the conversation, tried to keep herself composed, but the pull between them was becoming undeniable.

And then, without warning, Damon’s hand slid slightly lower, his fingers grazing her side in a way that felt almost... intentional. Her breath caught in her throat, and for the first time, Kyra felt a rush of heat spreading through her body—an overwhelming mix of desire and confusion. She couldn’t escape it. She didn’t want to escape it.

“What are you thinking right now, Kyra?” Damon’s voice was low, barely above a whisper, his face close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath.

She was frozen for a moment, unable to speak. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“You’re lying,” he cut her off, his gaze sharp. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Kyra’s heart raced as his hand tightened slightly at her back, his touch possessive yet not entirely unwelcome. She could feel the tension building between them, and though she wanted to resist, she found herself leaning into him just a little bit more.

“I... I shouldn’t,” she whispered, her breath shaky.

Damon’s eyes darkened. “I never asked you to.”

---

As the evening wore on, Damon’s presence was a constant at Kyra’s side. She found herself drawn to him in ways she couldn’t explain, caught between the professional boundaries she had so carefully built and the magnetic pull he exerted on her. She could no longer pretend she wasn’t affected by him.

And as the night came to a close, Damon leaned in close once more, his lips brushing against her ear.

“You’re not like the others, Kyra,” he whispered again. “And that’s exactly why I can’t stay away."