His ruin

Unforeseenencounter

I never made it to the door.

The guards blocked my way, and the moment I turned around, I walked straight into a hard wall.

Slowly, I looked up, rubbing my forehead where it had collided with the wall.

A sharp, hardened jaw, a face staring straight ahead.

Damien?

He hadn’t even looked down at me yet.

“Don’t frighten her like that again,” he said to someone behind me.

I tried to turn around, but his hand immediately settled around my waist, stopping me.

“You’re dismissed.”

The moment the words left his mouth, his hand moved from my waist to my arm. He took hold of me and dragged me away without another word.

The music had long since stopped.

I glanced behind me.

Every eye in the VVIP room was on us.

People stared. Some whispered among themselves as Damien dragged me out of the room.

Damien’s POV

I couldn’t believe who I was holding in my hands.

Emilia, my maid

Of all the people I expected to see in my club tonight, she was the last.

And not only was she there, she was wearing one of my waitresses’ outfits. A skirt far too short for my liking, making her look…

I stopped that thought before it could finish.

Desperate and slutty, that was what she looked like. Having all her curves out.

And if she was working here, then that meant one thing.

She was my employee.

But how long has she been working here for?

I was dragged out of my thoughts when something started hitting my back.

Or rather, someone.

“Let me go!”

She struggled against me, twisting and fighting to get free.

I didn’t give her a second to protest.

I lifted her off the ground and threw her over my shoulder like a sack of rice.

“Ahhhh!”

Her protests grew louder as she started hitting my back.

Not that I felt a thing.

But every single hit was beginning to irritate the hell out of me.

I stopped abruptly.

She stopped too.

I could feel her heartbeat quicken against me.

“Hit me one more time and see if I don’t s***k your ass.”

My voice vibrated through the otherwise silent hallway.

She went still.

Readjusting her over my shoulder, I resumed walking, taking two steps at a time until I finally reached my office.

I scanned my hand over the panel beside the wall, and the door unlocked.

I walked in with Emilia still completely still over my shoulder.

Then I gently lowered her to her feet.

I slipped a hand into my pocket, searching for my cigar. I needed something to keep me from looking at her.

From looking at the clothes she was wearing.

That would do nothing for my temperament. Unfortunately, I found nothing in my pocket.

I stepped away from her and headed straight for my desk.

Finally, I found my cigar box.

I pulled one out, lit it, and leaned against the edge of my desk.

Then I looked at her.

She seemed completely oblivious to my presence as she stared around my office in awe.

The smoke from my cigar must have finally reached her because she turned sharply, scrunching her nose.

She gave me a disapproving look.

Well, maid, you’ll have to endure it.

If not for this cigar, I might have already been lashing out at her.

She quickly looked away and turned her attention to my bookshelf.

She walked toward it, running her eyes over the books.

“When was the last time you used this office?” she asked loudly enough for me to hear.

She still had her back to me.

“Why do you ask?”

I stubbed the end of my cigar into the ashtray.

“The shelf…” she said, still refusing to look at me. “It’s dusty.”

I descended the small steps and slipped my hands into my pockets. Then I slowly walked toward her.

“Emilia, look at me.”

Her body immediately stiffened.

She could feel how close I was.

“Emilia.” This time, my voice carried less patience.

I watched her take a deep breath.

Slowly, she turned around. But her eyes refused to meet mine.

“What are you doing here… in my club?”

I was met with silence. I waited but nothing came

“What are you up to, and why haven’t you been taking my calls?” Again, silence.

“Am I talking to myself, maid?”

Her eyes immediately snapped at mine.

Finally.

And there it was.

Anger, pure unfiltered anger.

“Don’t call me that!”

Her voice was laced with both anger and hatred.

“And tell me, Damien,” she continued, “am I obligated to pick up your calls?”

“Yes.” The answer left my mouth before I could think twice.

“What?”

She clearly hadn’t expected me to answer.

“You heard me.”

I moved closer.

She took a step backward.

Another.

Until her back hit the bookshelf.

“I expect you to answer your goddamn phone every time I call you. You understand?”

Silence fell between us.

Our eyes locked.

Neither of us are willing to look away.

Neither was willing to surrender.

“You know…” she finally said, breaking eye contact, “It’s bold of you to dish out orders to someone you owe an apology.”

“An apology?” I frowned.

“Yes, Damien. You owe me an apology for disgracing and humiliating me in your company.”

I stared at her, confused.

She let out a bitter laugh.

“Oh, wow. You’ve forgotten already?”

Tears began gathering in her eyes.

“You told me to come to your office because you were going to find a position for me. I came, and your receptionist treated me like trash.”

She wiped her cheek, but another tear slipped down.

“Did you answer your phone then?”

I said nothing.

“Did you answer when I called you?” Her voice cracked. “Or does answering calls only apply to you?”

She stepped closer.

“You, Damien, care only about yourself. You’re so narcissistic and manipulative.”

And then she started hitting my chest.

Again and again.

Her fists barely registered against me. But watching her cry did.

I had no idea what to say.

For once, I had nothing.

So I did the only thing that came to mind.

I pulled her into my arms.

She resisted for only a second before breaking.

“Shhh…”

I gently ran a hand through her hair.

“It’s okay.”

Her hands clutched my tuxedo as though her life depended on it.

I held her tighter, slowly caressing her hair until her sobs finally began to quiet. I can’t remember when I last let someone get close to me like this or hug someone.

Then my phone rang.

The sound seemed to pull her out of whatever moment we had fallen into.

She immediately pushed against me, breaking out of the hug.

I let her go.

Pulling my phone from my breast pocket, I answered.

“Speak.”

My assistant immediately started talking, stumbling over his words about the investors running out of patience while waiting for me.

“I’m in the middle of something right now, Adams.”

“It’s Andre…”

I cut the call before he could remind me of his actual name.

I was already frustrated. How incompetent could my workers be that they couldn’t even handle a meeting while I was gone?

I dragged a hand through my hair, slicking it back.I was already craving another cigar.

A cough below me pulled me out of my thoughts.

“I have to get back to work now.”

“What?”

“Work.” She straightened herself. “I have to get going.”

“You’re not going back there, Emilia.”

Her brows pulled together.

“And you’re going to stop me?”

“I don’t want you working here.”

“Who made you the judge of that?”

I stared at her.

“So, because of one failed call, this is the result?”

My eyes traveled over her outfit, and my expression hardened.

“f**k you!”

She shoved me aside and stormed toward the door. But just before she reached it, she abruptly stopped.

She turned around.

“How will I get back to the first floor?”

“You’ll have to find your way back.” A small smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth as I turned and headed toward my chair.

I sat down.

Lit another cigar.

And stared at her.

She stared right back.

Her eyes were practically throwing daggers at me.

Mine?

Full of mischief.

Let the best man win.

And if someone had told me my night would end like this, I would have shot them dead before they could finish the sentence.