His Dearest Obsession

Aria Sinclair My plane landed in New York at exactly thirty minutes after nine. As I stepped out of the airport, I couldn't help but think back to that time seven years ago when a single letter had forced me to leave the country where I was raised. I left behind memories and everything that mattered to me. Seven years ago, I left New York with two suitcases, a broken heart and unanswered questions to start life afresh in a country I knew nothing about. Now I'm sitting in the back of a black sedan watching Manhattan pass behind the tinted window as though I was looking at someone else's life. The streets were too familiar. The tall buildings. The crowded sidewalk. The busy street. The yellow taxis weaving through traffic. The endless noise that somehow made New York feel alive even though you want nothing more than to escape it. I spent years trying to build myself in a different country. London gave me a career, independence, friends and a version of me I didn't know existed. I had gone there with two suitcases and a determination to start all over again. I didn't expect it to work out but it did. I worked my way up from being an ordinary office assistant who spent time organizing people's schedules to a senior executive in one of the most respected international agencies in London. I had my own apartment, my own money, my own life and my own reputation. For the first time in my life, I didn't need anyone to rescue me. And yet here I was again, back in New York. I looked away from the window when the driver turned into Fifth Avenue. My phone vibrated and I glanced at the screen. Elena: We are five minutes away. Don't tell me you are not ready I smiled faintly. Me: I have been ready since six this morning Elena: That's good. I'll be waiting at the front gate for you. I locked my phone. My gaze returned to the window. The last time I had been in New York, I hadn't known that it would be the last time I'd see my father. I hadn't known that, a few days later, my entire life would change. I hadn't known that I would spend years wondering whether my father was dead, alive, or simply somewhere I could never reach. And I certainly hadn't known that leaving would become easier than staying. I swallowed the tightness in my throat. That was the past. I had spent too long rebuilding myself to let a city drag me backward. The car slowed. A familiar glass building rose ahead. Voss Corporation. I looked up at the enormous silver letters displayed across the front of the building. VOSS CORPORATION. One of the most powerful companies in the country. And, unfortunately, our newest client. My agency had spent nearly four months negotiating the partnership. The contract was worth more than any project I had personally handled in my career. It was the kind of opportunity that could push our agency into an entirely different league. Which was why I had been selected to lead it. Professionally, it made perfect sense because I was one of their best senior executives. Personally, It was the worst possible assignment. I had almost declined. Then I reminded myself that I had not spent seven years building a successful career just to run from a city because of painful memories. I straightened my blazer and checked my reflection in the window. Dark brown hair pulled neatly into a low bun. Simple gold earrings. Black tailored suit. No unnecessary jewelry. No sign of the nervous twenty-two-year-old who had once walked through New York believing her entire future was waiting for her. That woman was gone. I had made sure of it. The car stopped. "Miss Sinclair, we're here," the driver announced as he pulled into the driveway of the Voss Corporation. "Thank you." I replied as I pushed the door open. I stepped out of the car and the cold New York air hit my face. For a moment, I simply stood there. I had forgotten how loud this city could be. "Aria!" I turned. Elena hurried toward me, her tablet tucked beneath one arm. "You actually came." She said with a smile on her face. I raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I?" I asked. She gave me a look. "Because you spent the entire flight staring out the window like you were preparing to return to a crime scene." She replied. I laughed softly. "That's dramatic." I said with a faint smile "Is it?" she asked. "Very." I nodded She smiled. "Good. Then you're fine," She said and made her way to the door. "I'm fine." I whispered to myself before following her. It was easier to say than the truth. We entered the building. The lobby was exactly what I expected from a company that had built its reputation on power—black marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, expensive furniture, and employees who moved with the quiet efficiency of people who knew they were being watched. I followed Elena toward the elevators. "The meeting is on the thirty-eighth floor," she said. "Their executive team will be there." "Who exactly?" I asked to be sure of who I would be meeting in the boardroom. She glanced at her tablet. "The COO, legal department, finance director, and—" She paused. I looked at her. "And?" I asked curiously. "The CEO," she replied. I shrugged. "Damien Voss?" I said as I looked at my tablet to check his name. "Yes," Elena replied as we continued walking to the elevator. The name meant nothing to me. At least, it shouldn't have. I had heard it before, of course. Everyone in my industry had. Damien Voss was one of the youngest billionaires in New York. His company had interests in technology, finance, real estate, and several other industries. He rarely gave interviews. He rarely attended public events. And from everything I'd heard, he wasn't particularly interested in being liked. That suited me perfectly. I wasn't here to like him. I was here to secure a successful partnership. The elevator doors opened and we stepped inside. As the numbers climbed, Elena reviewed the presentation. "You'll lead the discussion on the international expansion strategy," she explained while staring at the tablet. "I know," I replied. "And don't let their legal team push us into accepting the revised terms," She added without looking up from the tablet. "I won't." I replied. "And if Damien Voss tries to—" "I'll handle him." I replied quickly. She smiled. "That's why you're here." The elevator stopped. The doors opened. We stepped into a completely different atmosphere. The thirty-eighth floor was quiet. Almost unnaturally so. A receptionist stood behind a large marble desk. "Ms. Sinclair?" she asked, checking the piles of documents on her desk. "Yes," I replied. "Mr. Voss is expecting you." I nodded. "Thank you." The receptionist gestured toward a set of double doors. "Right this way." My heartbeat picked up slightly. Not because of my presentation or Damien Voss. Because of what this city represented. I pushed the thought aside. I was here for business. Nothing else. The receptionist opened the conference room doors. Our team was already seated. I walked in, greeted the executives, and took the seat closest to the presentation screen. Everything was familiar. Business. Numbers. Contracts. Strategy. Things I understood. Things I could control. I placed my tablet on the table and opened the presentation. "Let's begin." The meeting started. For the next twenty minutes, everything went smoothly. I presented our proposed strategy, answered questions from their finance director, challenged a few of their assumptions, and negotiated two clauses their legal team had attempted to slip past us. Elena gave me a small approving smile from across the table. I almost smiled back. Then the room went silent. The conference room doors opened. Every person at the table stood. I followed a second later. A man walked into the room. Tall. Dark-haired. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. There was nothing particularly intimidating about his appearance. And yet, the entire atmosphere changed the moment he entered. His expression was unreadable. His movements were calm. Controlled. The kind of calm that didn't come from having nothing to fear. It came from knowing nobody else in the room could afford to challenge you. "Mr. Voss," one of the executives greeted me. Damien gave a brief nod. Then his eyes moved across the room. One person. Two. Three. Until they stopped on me. Something changed in his expression. It was so brief I almost missed it. His eyes narrowed slightly. His entire body seemed to be still. He stared at me as though the rest of the room had disappeared. I frowned. Have we met? The thought came and went. I couldn't place him. He looked familiar somehow, but I couldn't remember where I'd seen him. Damien walked slowly toward the head of the table. His eyes never left mine. I forced myself not to look away. I had learned a long time ago that confidence wasn't about never feeling intimidated. It was about refusing to show it. Damien took his seat. The others followed. Someone began introducing the members of our team, but I barely heard them. I was still trying to understand the strange familiarity in his eyes. Then Damien leaned back in his chair. He studied my face for another long second. And when he finally spoke, his voice was low enough that only those closest to him could hear. "Aria Sinclair." My breath caught. He knew my name. But the way he said it wasn't the way someone said the name of a business partner they'd just been introduced to. It sounded like recognition. Like memory. Like he had been waiting years to say it again.