Damien Blackwood POV
The early morning light filtered through the tall windows of the breakfast room in Blackwood Mansion, casting long golden beams across the polished oak table. I sat alone, a cup of freshly brewed tea steaming beside me as I scrolled through overnight reports on my tablet. European market updates. Construction progress on the new headquarters wing. Investor emails requesting meetings. Everything was exactly as it should be — orderly, predictable, under control.
Everything except my thoughts.
The image of Sophia crossed my mind again, uninvited. The way she had looked at me in the office yesterday, professional and composed, yet with that underlying tension neither of us could fully hide. I forced the memory away and returned my focus to the screen. Work had always b
