Taken by the Rivals.

Chapter 5- The cell of proximity

~ Aria POV ~

"Your schedule for the restructuring phase is set, Mr. Blackstone," I said, placing the operational chart on his desk without looking directly into his eyes.

"Mr. Blackstone?" Damien repeated, his voice dangerously quiet as he stared at the document. "We are alone in this room, Aria. You don't need to use a formal title with me."

"During business hours, you are the client, and I am the consultant," I replied, keeping my tone perfectly flat and detached. "My team has already begun updating the layout designs for the residential complex. I expect your managers to review the budget line items by noon tomorrow."

"I don't care about the budget line items," he said, standing up from his chair. He walked around the table, his steps deliberate as he tried to force me to look at him. "I care about why you won't even look at me when you speak. It's been a week. You treat me like a ghost."

"You are a client who paid a very large sum for my expertise," I said, stepping past him to gather my empty folders. "Nothing more. The past is an expired account. I suggest you focus on the current investment."

"An expired account?" Damien muttered, his jaw tightening as he followed me toward the doorway. "Is that what we are to you now? Just a closed file?"

"The operational guidelines are clear, Mr. Blackstone," I said, stopping with my hand on the door handle. "If you try to shift our conversations toward non-professional matters again, I will log it as a contract violation. Have a productive afternoon."

I stepped out before he could reply, letting the door click shut behind me. My heart was thumping against my ribs, but I drew a deep breath and smoothed down my jacket. I had to maintain this icy wall. If I let him see even a small c***k in my defense, he would use it to claw his way back into my head.

The entire week had turned into a silent test of endurance. True to my operational terms, I had assumed control over his calendar regarding the development project. But instead of leaving me to work in peace, Damien had turned the office tower into his personal hunting ground.

"Aria, he cancelled the quarterly review with the regional directors," Maya whispered later that afternoon, leaning over my desk with a look of utter confusion.

"What do you mean he cancelled it?" I asked, looking up from my laptop. "That meeting involves their primary investment partners. It's an important date on his calendar."

"His secretary said he decided to work from his private suite here instead," Maya said, glancing toward the tinted glass partition. "He told them he needed to be on-site for our structural updates. He's been pacing the outer hallway for the last two hours, Aria. He just stands by the glass and watches our team work."

"Let him watch," I said, forcing my fingers to keep typing on my keyboard. "He's paying for the time. If he wants to waste his own executive hours stalking the periphery of our workspace, that's his choice."

"It's creepy," Maya muttered. "Not ordinary creepy, but like... he looks like he's about to jump across the room if anyone comes near your desk. The junior designers are terrified to even ask you for a signature."

"I'll handle him," I said, closing my laptop screen. "Go make sure the engineering reports are filed correctly. I'll be in the data room if you need me."

I grabbed my tablet and walked out into the corridor. The second I stepped into the hallway, I felt his eyes on me. Damien was standing by the large windows at the end of the hall, ignoring three different ringing phones on his assistant's desk. His eyes were wide, tracking my every movement with a dark, restless intensity that made my skin prickle.

Every single interaction we had over the next three days was laced with that same thick, suffocating tension. If I asked for a document, he delivered it personally instead of sending a courier. If I requested a technical review, he sat in the room, saying nothing, simply staring at my face while his engineers spoke. He was using his presence like a cage, trying to wear down my resolve by refusing to give me distance.

By Thursday evening, the pressure had reached a boiling point. The rest of my design team had already left the building for the night, leaving the suite quiet. I was packing my executive files into my briefcase, checking the time on my wrist.

"You're leaving early," Damien's voice said from the doorway.

I didn't jump. I had heard his footsteps approaching long before he spoke. I kept my hands busy, organizing my papers. "My operational hours for this site are concluded for the day, Mr. Blackstone. I have a prior commitment this evening."

"A commitment?" he asked, walking into my office. He had discarded his suit jacket, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking exhausted yet intensely focused. "Your calendar doesn't show any other site visits for tonight."

"It's a private business dinner," I said, snapping my briefcase shut. "I am meeting with a business partner Julian to review his luxury estate contract. He's preparing to sign our expansion agreement."

The room seemed to turn freezing in an instant.

Damien froze, his entire body going rigid at the mention of the name. His face paled, his jaw clenching so hard a small muscle jumped in his cheek. The dark, possessive aura that had been simmering beneath his calm persona all week suddenly fractured, bursting to the surface with a terrifying force.

"You're meeting Julian?" he rasped, his voice dropping to a harsh, dangerous register. "The Julian? For dinner? At night?"

"Yes," I said, picking up my bag. "He is my primary client, and his firm is funding our European launch. Now, if you'll excuse me, I don't want to be late."

Before I could take a single step around my desk, Damien moved. He was incredibly fast, his large frame crossing the distance between us before I could even react. His hands slammed down onto the wood surface behind me, effectively trapping me against the desk. He didn't touch me, but his body was so close I could feel the intense heat radiating from his skin.

"You are not going to that dinner," he growled, his face inches from mine. His eyes were totally bloodshot, wild with a desperate, furious panic. "Cancel it, Aria. Call his office right now and tell him you can't make it."

"Move away from me, Damien," I said, my heart racing wildly against my chest, my hands clenching into tight fists against the desk. I refused to back down. I stared directly into his dark eyes, matching his fury with a cold, biting defiance. "You do not dictate my personal life. You bought my consulting services for your development project. You did not buy my life. You have no right to tell me who I can see."

"He wants you," Damien snarled, his breath hot against my face as his chest heaved. He looked unhinged, his fingers digging into the desk as if he were trying to restrain himself from grabbing my shoulders. "I saw him in your office last week. I saw the flowers he brought you. He looks at you like he wants to take you away from me."

"I don't belong to you!" I shouted back, the anger I had suppressed for four years finally exploding. "You threw me away! You chose your family name and your duty over me! You left me with nothing, and now you think you can play the protective protector? Julian treats me like an equal partner. He doesn't trap me in rooms or make me grovel for my own worth."

The mention of Julian treating me well seemed to drive him over the edge. A look of pure, lethal agony crossed his face, mixed with a territorial madness that made my throat go completely dry. He leaned closer, his dark gaze locking onto my lips before snapping back to my eyes.

"I don't care what he treats you like," Damien whispered, his voice dropping to a low, territorial growl that sent a sudden, intense shiver straight down my spine. "Go to that dinner if you want to, Aria. But I will have my security team block every street between here and his restaurant, because I am never letting another man touch what belongs to me again.”