The Australian Tycoon Obsession

Chapter 4: Behind the Mask

The thought stayed with Scarlett for the rest of her shift. No matter how hard she tried to dismiss it, her eyes kept wandering back to Damien's table. He was once again surrounded by people in tailored suits, expensive laptops open before them, and documents spread neatly across the polished wood. Their voices were low, respectful, and almost cautious whenever they addressed him.

Damien barely spoke. He didn't need to. A single nod from him sent one executive scrambling to make a phone call. A slight shake of his head made another quietly close his laptop and begin revising a presentation without argument.

Power. Real power didn't need to announce itself. It simply existed. Scarlett had never witnessed anything quite like it. She had served politicians, celebrities, athletes, and wealthy tourists since she started working at the café. Most of them demanded attention the moment they walked through the door. Damien didn't. He somehow commanded every room without trying. That should have made him intimidating. Instead, it made her curious.

As if sensing her gaze, Damien looked up.

Their eyes met, and he held her stare for only a second before gesturing for her to come over. Scarlett looked behind her, but there was no one else. He was definitely calling her. Taking a slow breath, she picked up the coffee pot and walked toward his table.

"Need a refill?" she asked professionally.

"My coffee is fine." She glanced at the untouched cup. He was right.

"So... why am I here?"

"I wanted to ask how your day is going." Scarlett blinked.

"You called me over to ask that?"

"Yes."

She couldn't help laughing. "You really are strange."

His lips curved ever so slightly. "I've heard that before."

She folded her arms. "I'm working."

"I noticed."

"So if you don't need anything..."

"I do."

She sighed dramatically.

"What now?"

"Lunch."

Scarlett frowned.

"Lunch?"

"With me."

She stared at him as though he'd spoken another language. "You can't be serious."

"I am."

"I'm on shift."

"Tomorrow."

"I don't date customers."

"I'm not asking for a date."

"No?"

"No."

He leaned back in his chair, his expression as calm as ever. "I'm asking you to have lunch with a potential employer."

Scarlett narrowed her eyes. "That's cheating."

"I prefer to call it negotiating."

She laughed despite herself. "You always twist words to get what you want?"

"Only when necessary."

"And does it usually work?"

"Almost always."

The confidence in his answer should have annoyed her. Instead, it made her smile.

"Sorry," she said. "Still no."

Before Damien could respond, his phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen.

For the first time since she'd met him, genuine irritation crossed his face. He answered immediately.

"Speak."

His tone changed instantly. It became colder. Sharper. Scarlett had never heard someone sound so controlled and intimidating at the same time. She couldn't hear the person on the other end, but whatever they were saying clearly wasn't good news.

"I'll handle it," Damien said.

"No."

"I said no."

His voice remained quiet.

That somehow made it even more frightening.

After ending the call, he closed his eyes for a brief second. When he opened them again, the businessman mask had returned.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Scarlett looked surprised. "For what?"

"Interrupting your work."

She blinked. The apology sounded sincere.

"You apologize?"

"When I'm wrong."

That wasn't the answer she'd expected.

She had imagined billionaires believed they were never wrong. Apparently, Damien Blackwood wasn't as predictable as she'd assumed.

"I should get back," she said softly.

He nodded. "But think about lunch."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'll think about saying no."

His quiet chuckle followed her all the way back to the counter.

...

By the end of her shift, rain had begun falling again. Scarlett stepped outside, pulling her thin jacket tighter around herself. She had barely walked half a block when the rain turned into a downpour. Within seconds, she was soaked.

"Oh, perfect."

She ducked beneath the awning of a closed bookstore, hoping the rain would ease. Instead, it grew heavier. A sleek black car pulled up beside the sidewalk. The rear window lowered. Damien looked at her from inside.

"Get in."

Scarlett immediately shook her head.

"No."

"You're getting drenched."

"I'll survive."

"Scarlett."

The way he said her name made her heart skip.

"I'm fine."

"You'll get sick."

"I live three blocks away."

"And you'll be soaked before you get there." She hesitated.

Every sensible part of her told her not to get into a billionaire's luxury car. Every practical part of her knew standing in the rain wasn't exactly a better option.

Damien seemed to read the conflict on her face.

"I'm offering you a ride."

"Nothing more."

She bit her lip. After a long moment, she sighed.

"Fine."

The driver quickly stepped out with an umbrella, opening the rear door for her. Scarlett climbed inside, instantly surrounded by warm air and the scent of expensive leather. The car was quieter than any vehicle she'd ever been in. She looked around, trying not to appear impressed, but she failed.

Damien noticed.

"You don't have to pretend."

"I wasn't pretending."

"You were."

She smiled reluctantly. "Okay... maybe a little."

The car pulled away from the curb. For several minutes, silence settled between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, strangely, it felt... peaceful. Scarlett looked out the rain-streaked window.

"I've never been inside a car like this."

Damien glanced at her.

"It's just a car."

She laughed. "Only a billionaire would call this 'just a car.'"

He considered that before nodding.

"Fair point."

She looked at him again. "You really don't see your life the way everyone else does, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You call this normal."

She gestured around the luxurious interior.

"I call it something I'll probably never experience again after tonight."

For a long moment, Damien said nothing. Then he quietly replied,

"I stopped noticing the luxury years ago."

Scarlett turned toward him. There was no arrogance in his voice, only honesty. It struck her then that perhaps wealth worked the same way as poverty. If you lived with it long enough, it simply became your normal. The realization made her look at Damien differently. Not as a billionaire. Not as the man relentlessly, offering her a job but just... as a man.

And for the first time since they'd met, she wondered if beneath the tailored suits, the quiet confidence, and the endless wealth, Damien Blackwood might simply be someone searching for a connection he couldn't buy.

The thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit. She had spent years believing that money solved everything. Maybe not happiness, but certainly the problems that kept ordinary people awake at night. Rent. Bills. Debt. Food. Security. Those worries disappeared when you had enough money.

Damien clearly had more than enough. Yet every time she looked into his eyes, she saw something that wealth couldn't erase. Silence settled comfortably between them as the city lights blurred past the rain-covered windows. The rhythmic sound of raindrops against the glass filled the car, creating an unexpected sense of calm.

"So," Scarlett finally said, "do you always pick up your employees from work?"

A hint of amusement crossed Damien's face.

"I've never picked up an employee before."

She turned to him. "Then why me?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he watched the rain for a moment before speaking.

"I don't know."

She frowned. "You don't know?"

"I know I wanted to make sure you got home safely."

"That's not the same thing."

"No."

"Then what's the real reason?"

His jaw tightened ever so slightly.

"I haven't figured that out yet."

The honesty of his answer caught her completely off guard. She had expected a charming line or a clever excuse. Instead, he'd admitted he didn't fully understand his own actions. Somehow, that felt far more genuine.

Scarlett smiled faintly.

"You know, you're nothing like I expected."

"And what exactly did you expect?"

"A billionaire."

He looked at her with quiet curiosity.

"I am a billionaire."

"I know." She laughed softly. "But I expected someone arrogant. Someone who looked down on everyone else. Someone who enjoyed reminding people how important he was."

"And instead?"

She hesitated. "Instead, I met someone who drinks the same black coffee every morning, apologizes when he's wrong, and keeps offering a stubborn barista a job she refuses to take."

A low chuckle escaped him.

"I suppose that is an accurate summary."

"It is."

The driver slowed as they approached her apartment building. Scarlett looked outside and felt a wave of embarrassment.

Compared to Damien's world, her neighbourhood looked worn and forgotten. The buildings were old, the sidewalks cracked, and the flickering streetlights did little to brighten the gloomy evening.

"You can stop here," she said quickly.

The car came to a gentle halt, and neither of them moved. Scarlett reached for the door handle before turning back.

"Thank you... for the ride."

"You're welcome."

She smiled politely.

"Goodnight, Damien."

She was about to step out when his voice stopped her.

"Scarlett."

She looked over her shoulder.

"If the job offer is what's making you uncomfortable..."

"It is."

"...then forget the title."

She blinked.

"What?"

"Come work with me for one month."

Her eyebrows rose.

"A trial period."

He continued before she could interrupt.

"If after one month you decide you hate working for me, you're free to leave. No questions. No pressure. I'll even provide a recommendation for any company you choose afterwards."

Scarlett stared at him.

He was negotiating again. Only this time, it didn't feel like a business deal. It felt personal.

"You've really thought this through."

"I have."

"You don't even know me."

"I know enough."

"And what's that?"

He held her gaze.

"I know you're hardworking."

She looked away.

"I know you're honest."

Her fingers tightened around her bag.

"I know you care about people."

The compliment warmed her more than she wanted to admit.

"And," he added quietly, "I know you underestimate yourself."

Scarlett froze. No one had ever said those words to her. Not her professors, not her coworkers, and definitely not even her closest friends. For a brief moment, she couldn't find her voice. Finally, she managed a small smile.

"You make it very difficult to say no."

"I've noticed."

She laughed, shaking her head.

"I still need time."

"You have it."

She nodded once.

"Goodnight."

This time, she stepped out of the car. The cool evening air greeted her immediately. She closed the door and took a few steps toward her apartment building before glancing back. The black sedan was still parked at the curb. Damien hadn't looked away.Even through the rain-speckled window, she could feel his eyes following her until she safely reached the entrance. Only then did the car pull away. Scarlett stood beneath the awning for a long moment, watching the taillights disappear into the rainy streets of Manhattan.

She reached into her bag, her fingers brushed against the business card he'd given her, and she pulled it out slowly. The elegant black card looked exactly the same as it had the first day, only now. It felt heavier somehow. Not because of what it represented but because of the choice it demanded.

Scarlett slipped the card back into her bag and climbed the stairs to her apartment. She had a feeling that saying no to Damien Blackwood was becoming harder with every passing day. And deep down, that frightened her more than anything else.