Crippled by His Shadow

CHAPTER FIVE: TANGLED FLAMES

ZARA’S POV

I barely sleep that night. Every time I close my eyes, I feel his mouth on mine again, the heat of his hands, the way the world tilted for those few seconds like nothing else existed. By morning my lips still feel strange, tingling like the kiss is fresh, and I keep touching them like I need proof it even happened.

The whole bus ride to work, I argue with myself. He’ll ignore me, I tell myself. He’ll act like nothing happened, and I’ll sit at my desk pretending to breathe while my brain is on fire. Maybe that’s good. Maybe that’s safe. But then I remember the look in his eyes right before he pulled away, the conflict, the anger, the hunger he pretends he doesn’t have.and my stomach flips.

I walk into KushTech like a zombie, clutching my coffee like it can save me, praying nobody notices the storm inside me. But the second I step into the office, I feel it, his presence. He is already here. And worse, he is waiting.

“Miss Bennett,” his voice cuts across the room, low and calm, but my heart jumps like I’ve been caught doing something wrong. He doesn’t even look up from the papers in his hand when he says it. “My office. Now.”

I swallow hard, nodding like a robot. “Yes, sir.”

The way everyone looks at me as I follow him is unbearable. They probably think I’m in trouble, that I messed something up. Maybe I did. But they don’t know the truth, that the man they call boss had me pressed against a rooftop railing last night, stealing the kind of kiss you can’t come back from.

His office door shuts behind us with a click that sounds too final. I stand there, clutching my notebook, waiting for him to tell me why I’m here, but instead of barking orders like he usually does, he walks past me, so close I catch the faint smell of his cologne. My chest tightens at the memory of it on my skin last night.

“You’re late,” he says casually, sliding behind his desk.

I blink. “I’m not…” I glance at my watch. I’m actually five minutes early.

He smirks, like he’s enjoying this little game. “Then sit.”

I sit, my knees pressed together, my hands twisting in my lap. He leans back in his chair, studying me like I’m not a person but some puzzle he’s determined to solve.

“You didn’t sleep,” he says after a beat.

I stare at him. “Excuse me?”

“Your eyes.” He points slightly, his tone smooth, almost bored, but I don’t miss the flicker in his gaze. “You look tired.”

Heat crawls up my neck. “Maybe I was working late. Or maybe I just couldn’t sleep. It’s not your business.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Everything about you is my business.”

The words hang between us, heavy, too honest. My pulse stumbles, and I open my mouth to fire back, but then there’s a knock at the door.

Before I can move, the handle turns. The door swings open.

And she walks in.

Kara Kush.

I know who she is instantly, even though we’ve never spoken before. She’s tall, elegant in a way that makes me suddenly aware of my cheap blouse and scuffed heels. Her dress is expensive but subtle, her hair pinned neatly, and her heels click against the floor like every step announces she belongs here more than anyone else.

Her eyes land on me first, sharp and assessing, like she’s already piecing me apart without even asking my name. Then they shift to Damian. For a second, something unreadable passes between them, tension, history, maybe even hatred but it’s gone before I can understand it.

“Hello, mother,” he says as she straightens up

“Well,” she says smoothly, her voice soft but carrying an edge that makes me sit up straighter. “I didn’t know you kept company this early in the morning.”

I feel my face burn. I know what I must look like, flushed, nervous, caught in his office like I don’t belong here.

Damian doesn’t flinch. “She is my secretary,” he says flatly, but his jaw is tight, too tight. “Where else is she supposed to be?”

Kara’s smile curves, slow and deliberate, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Of course she is.” Her gaze flicks back to me, lingering for a moment, and it feels like a spotlight, like she’s stripping away every secret I’ve ever had. “And your secretary always sits this close to you?”

My throat closes. I glance at Damian, waiting for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. He just leans back, watching us both like he’s testing me.

“I… I was just taking notes,” I stammer, holding up my notebook like proof. My voice sounds small, pathetic, even to me.

Kara’s smile doesn’t move. “Relax, dear. I’m only teasing.”

But her eyes say otherwise.

“Why are you here?” Damian asks, his tone clipped now, the softness from earlier gone.

She walks further into the room, each step measured, confident. “I don’t need an appointment to see you. Or have you forgotten?”

The way she says it sends a chill down my spine. There’s weight in her words, like she knows she has power here.

Damian’s eyes narrow. “Say what you came to say.”

Kara glances at me again, then back at him. “Perhaps this isn’t the right audience.”

“I have nothing to hide from her,” he snaps.

The words hit me like a punch. I glance at him, shocked, but his face is unreadable, his expression carved in stone.

Kara studies him for a moment, then me. Her smile softens, but it feels wrong, like a mask. “How loyal of you.”

The silence stretches, uncomfortable, like a string pulled too tight. Finally, she sighs. “I’ll keep this short. The board is restless. Investors are whispering. And your late nights” her eyes flick to me again, sharp “aren’t exactly inspiring confidence.”

Damian’s jaw tightens. “Stay out of my business.”

“Your business is my business,” she says sweetly, tilting her head. “Don’t forget that.”

Then she turns to me, her gaze sweeping over me one last time, and for a second, her smile falters. There’s something darker in her eyes, something I can’t name but feel deep in my stomach.

“Lovely to meet you, Zara,” she says softly, and I freeze. I never told her my name.

And just like that, she’s gone. The door clicks shut, leaving behind a silence so heavy I can barely breathe.

I turn to Damian, my chest pounding. “She… she knew my name.”

He doesn’t look at me. He just stares at the door, his expression dark, his voice low. “She knows everything.”

And that terrifies me more than anything.

That night, as I lie in bed replaying every second, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. An unknown number. I open it, frowning.

The message makes my blood run cold.

You don’t know the man you’re sleeping with. Stay away before it’s too late.