Chapter 10
1068 Words
Damien sat behind his desk, fingers tapping against the glass surface, eyes fixed on the untouched file in front of him. He hadn’t turned a single page.
He was thinking about her again.
Lila.
That damn girl with the sunshine smile and the clumsy steps who had no idea what she was doing in his world.
The image kept replaying in his head—her kneeling beside the janitor earlier that morning, helping him with that mop bucket, laughing at something he said, like she had all the time in the world. Like she wasn’t in a company where one mistake could cost her everything. She had no idea who was watching.
But he was.
He watched her bending over in that plain skirt, hair tied back in the loosest ponytail he’d ever seen, talking to the janitor like he was a friend. Like she didn’t care who he was or what he did.
And she smiled. Bright. Honest. Like she actually meant it.
It wasn’t even a seductive smile. That was the worst part.
It was just… her.
And now, here she was—taking up too much space in his mind.
Damien leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.
What the hell was wrong with him?
She wasn’t even his type. Too bubbly. Too talkative. Too… innocent.
He liked women who knew the rules. Women who didn’t spill coffee on him three days into the job, who didn’t thank janitors like they were colleagues.
This wasn’t about her. It couldn’t be.
Maybe he just needed to get laid.
It had been weeks—months maybe—since he’d touched anyone. He’d been busy, focused. Not interested in the drama that came with casual flings. But now his brain was twisting innocent smiles into something else entirely.
A sharp buzz interrupted his thoughts. He picked up his phone.
It was Nathan.
“Hey,” Damien muttered.
“Still alive, Blackthorne?” Nathan’s voice was too cheerful for this hour. “I’m throwing a party Friday. At DUSK. Exclusive. Loud. Beautiful women. Booze. You need it.”
Damien stared at his screen for a moment before replying, “I’ll think about it.”
Nathan laughed. “Which means you’ll say no unless your penthouse walls start talking back to you.”
“Exactly.”
He hung up, tossing the phone on the desk.
Maybe he should go.
Anything to get her out of his damn head.
Because Lila Carter didn’t belong there.
And he was starting to forget that.
Lila sighed contently as she walked down the quiet hallway, clutching her bag and some leftover paperwork. The office lights had dimmed slightly, casting a warm glow over the halls. Most of the employees had already left, and for the first time all day, Lila finally felt a bit... calm.
She smiled to herself.
It had been a good day. No mess-ups. No disasters. And most importantly—no run-ins with Damien Blackthorne.
She was practically skipping as she reached for the elevator button. “Look at me,” she whispered to herself, “No intimidating glares. No terrifying office summons. I might just survive this job.”
The elevator dinged.
And there went her peace.
As the doors slid open, her heart dropped straight to her feet.
Damien Blackthorne was inside, standing like a damn sculpture in an expensive suit, towering and cold, with his hands in his pockets and eyes already on her. Dark. Sharp. Quiet.
Lila froze.
Why—why—was he using the general elevator?
Didn’t he have his own private one? The one no one dared to use?
Her heart started to hammer.
“Good Evening, sir," she said quickly, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.
He said nothing at first, just kept staring, like he was sizing her up or trying to figure out why the universe sent her to torture him.
Lila panicked, taking a step back. “I—I’ll wait for the next one—”
“Get in,” he said simply.
Just two words. That voice. Deep, smooth, commanding.
Lila obeyed before her brain even caught up.
The doors slid shut, trapping her alone with him inside the sleek, silent elevator.
Just my luck, she thought, clutching her bag tighter. I was literally celebrating five minutes ago.
She dared a glance up at him. He wasn’t even looking her way—just staring straight ahead, hands in his pockets, calm and unreadable.
Still... she couldn’t help noticing how perfect his jawline looked from the side. Or how his sleeves hugged his arms. Or how he was the reason she had a dream last night, how he whispered sweet things to her, a dream she could never speak of to anyone.
Her cheeks turned red again. Seriously, brain, don’t bring up the dream right now.
The tension was unbearable.
She stared at the floor numbers. They weren’t moving fast enough.
Then Damien spoke.
“How’s the scheduling board?” he asked, voice low and smooth.
His question echoed in the small space.
Lila snapped to attention. “uhm---It’s... good, sir. I double-checked all the updates this afternoon. Everything’s in order.”
He glanced down at her this time, just briefly.
But it was enough to make her forget how to breathe.
She forced a bubbly smile, trying to hide how nervous she felt. “I, um, made sure there were no overlaps or delays. It’s all good.”
A pause.
“Good,” Damien said, his tone neutral.
And that was it.
No scolding. No glaring. No firing.
But still, Lila’s body was heating up for all the wrong reasons. The silence felt louder than anything. She stood stiffly, praying for the elevator to just reach the ground floor already.
Finally, it dinged again.
Damien stepped out first, saying nothing more. Just a quiet, confident walk down the hallway, like she hadn’t just spent the whole ride beside him melting and panicking at the same time.
The moment the doors closed behind him, Lila let out a shaky breath.
“God,” she whispered, fanning herself, “I asked not to see him today. Not get stuck with him.”
Her legs felt weak.
And her heart? It was doing things it had no business doing—especially for a man who was definitely not supposed to be part of her fantasies.
- Writer
