Chapter 3
918 Words
POV: Damian Knight
Damian had negotiated with presidents.
He had convinced investors to pour billions into impossible projects.
He had once talked an angry shareholder out of suing his company with nothing but patience and an expensive smile.
Yet somehow...
"I am not her boyfriend."
Mrs. Alvarez waved a dismissive hand.
"Oh, honey, that's exactly what a boyfriend would say."
Emma pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Mrs. Alvarez."
"What?"
"Please stop adopting strangers."
"I haven't adopted him." The older woman looked Damian up and down. "I'm still interviewing."
Damian glanced at Emma.
She looked as though she was deciding whether jumping out the third-floor window would be worth the broken bones.
Mrs. Alvarez shoved the covered bowl into Damian's hands.
"Blueberry muffins."
"I—"
"Eat them before Mr. Wilson smells them."
"Why?"
"He has no self-control."
As if summoned by magic, another apartment door flew open.
A tall man with wild gray hair poked his head into the hallway.
"I heard my name."
Mrs. Alvarez gasped.
"Too late!"
She grabbed Emma's wrist and hurried down the hallway.
"Run!"
"I'm not running!"
"You are now!"
Emma shot Damian an apologetic look before disappearing around the corner.
Mr. Wilson sniffed the air dramatically.
"...Is that blueberry?"
Damian looked down at the warm bowl in his hands.
He had no idea what was happening.
Mr. Wilson pointed at the muffins.
"You've been marked."
"I'm sorry?"
"They like you."
"Who?"
"The muffin committee."
"There is a muffin committee?"
"There wasn't until five seconds ago."
The old man nodded as if that explained everything and wandered away humming to himself.
Silence settled over the hallway.
Damian slowly walked into Apartment 3B and shut the door.
He stared at the muffins.
Then at the apartment.
Then back at the muffins.
He had lived in mansions larger than some hotels.
None of them had come with baked goods.
His phone buzzed.
ETHAN HAYES
Damian answered immediately.
"You planned this."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The apartment manager refused six months' rent."
A loud laugh echoed through the speaker.
"Already?"
"She actually pushed my card back."
"I'm proud of her."
"I wasn't asking for your approval."
"You sound upset."
"I am not upset."
"You sound like you just discovered gravity."
Damian loosened his tie.
"She has rules."
"Terrifying."
"And she expects everyone to follow them."
"The monster."
Damian ignored him.
"There isn't even an elevator."
"I know."
"My apartment key is... metal."
"I know."
"The chair downstairs squeaked at me."
"I know."
Ethan laughed so hard Damian had to move the phone away from his ear.
"You should've seen your face when I handed you that lease."
"I'm going to fire you."
"You can't."
"I'll find a way."
"You already lost the bet."
Damian looked around the apartment again.
It wasn't bad.
Actually...
It was clean.
Bright.
Comfortable.
The furniture wasn't luxurious, but it felt lived in.
Someone had cared enough to keep everything polished.
That surprised him.
"So," Ethan said, "have you met Emma Brooks?"
"Unfortunately."
"And?"
"She's impossible."
"Meaning?"
"She follows every rule."
"Horrifying."
"She wouldn't even let me pay in advance."
Ethan burst into another fit of laughter.
"I knew you'd meet your match one day."
"My match?"
"The first person in years who doesn't care who you are."
Damian frowned.
"She doesn't know who I am."
"Exactly."
A strange silence followed.
It had been a long time since anyone had looked at Damian without recognition, curiosity, or hidden ambition.
To Emma Brooks...
He was simply another tenant.
Nothing more.
He wasn't sure how he felt about that.
His stomach growled.
He looked at the bowl.
Blueberry muffins.
He picked one up.
It was still warm.
He took a bite.
His eyes widened.
"That's... actually incredible."
Ethan laughed again.
"See? Ordinary life."
"If you say 'builds character,' I'm hanging up."
"It builds character."
The call ended.
Damian stared at his phone.
"I really do need better friends."
A sharp knock interrupted his thoughts.
He opened the door.
Emma stood outside holding a clipboard.
Professional.
Calm.
Completely unaware that one strand of hair had escaped her ponytail and kept falling across her forehead.
"I forgot one thing."
"What now?"
"The cleaning deposit."
"I already paid it."
"You paid the amount."
She flipped through her papers.
"You forgot to sign the receipt."
He blinked.
"That's why you came back?"
"Paperwork matters."
"You climbed three flights of stairs..."
"Yes."
"...for a signature?"
"Also yes."
He accepted the clipboard.
"You really like rules."
"I like not having problems."
He signed his name and handed it back.
Emma checked the signature before smiling in satisfaction.
"Perfect."
She turned to leave.
Halfway down the hall, she stopped.
Without facing him, she asked, "By the way... did Mrs. Alvarez's muffins survive?"
Damian looked at the half-empty bowl.
"They're excellent."
Emma smiled to herself.
"I thought so."
She continued downstairs.
Damian watched her disappear around the corner.
Strict.
Stubborn.
Annoyingly impossible.
Then he closed the door.
A few minutes later, he decided to unpack.
He unzipped his suitcase.
Designer suits.
Italian shoes.
Luxury watches.
Everything looked completely out of place in the tiny apartment.
He reached for the closet door.
The handle came off in his hand.
Damian froze.
He looked at the handle.
Then at the door.
Then back at the handle.
"...You've got to be kidding me."
Outside, footsteps echoed on the staircase.
Emma was coming back up.
And somehow, less than an hour after moving in, Damian had already broken part of the apartment.
- Writer
