The boardroom Test
494 Words
The lobby of Blackwood Corporation was nothing short of intimidating — marble floors that gleamed like mirrors, towering glass walls, and a reception desk manned by women who looked like they’d stepped straight out of a high-fashion ad. Sarah felt the weight of every stare as Damien strode in, his grip on her hand steady and unyielding.
She heard whispers the moment they passed.
“That’s her…”
“She doesn’t even look like she belongs here…”
“Is this some publicity stunt?”
Heat crept up Sarah’s neck. She tried to keep her chin up, but her sneakers squeaked against the polished floor, reminding her that she was a glaring misfit in this world of sharp suits and sharper tongues.
When the elevator doors closed behind them, she finally spoke.
“You don’t have to drag me around like this,” she said, yanking her hand free.
Damien glanced at her, eyes cool. “If I let go, you might run. And that would be… inconvenient.”
“Inconvenient for you, you mean,” she muttered.
He didn’t bother to respond.
The elevator stopped at the top floor, opening into a sleek hallway that led straight to an imposing set of double doors. Inside, a long glass table was surrounded by a dozen men and women in tailored suits, their conversations halting the moment Damien entered.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Damien’s voice carried easily across the room, “this is Sarah Parker. My wife.”
The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.
Sarah felt every pair of eyes slice through her. Some looked shocked, others skeptical, and a few… openly hostile.
One man — tall, silver-haired, and clearly unafraid of Damien — leaned back in his chair. “Congratulations,” he said, though his tone dripped with sarcasm. “When did this… happen?”
“Recently,” Damien replied, his voice flat. “And that’s all you need to know.”
The man’s gaze slid to Sarah, lingering just long enough to make her squirm. “And what does Mrs. Blackwood… do?”
The room went silent. Sarah opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She wasn’t prepared for this — for the unspoken challenge in his question.
Damien didn’t miss a beat. “She does exactly what I need her to do,” he said, his eyes locking on Sarah as if daring her to contradict him.
A faint, amused murmur rippled around the table. Sarah’s stomach twisted.
She forced a smile. “And right now, I’m learning.”
It wasn’t much, but it earned her a raised eyebrow from the silver-haired man — and the faintest twitch of Damien’s lips, as if she’d passed some invisible test.
The meeting began, full of numbers, charts, and business jargon Sarah barely understood. She tried to follow along, but her thoughts kept circling back to one question:
Why had Damien Blackwood — cold, untouchable, and clearly dangerous — chosen her?
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