Chapter two
761 Words
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Wolfe Global — Midtown Manhattan, 10:12 AM
Ava’s fingers tightened around her planner as she stared across the sleek glass table at the man she swore she’d never see again.
Damien Wolfe.
The billionaire CEO. The man who—two weeks ago—had traced every inch of her body with reverent precision... and now looked at her like a stranger he intended to dominate in the boardroom.
He didn’t smile. He didn’t flinch. He just sat—elegant, powerful, and utterly composed.
“This is Miss Ava Sinclair,” her boss said. Senior strategist. She’ll be leading the Wolfe account.”
“Pleasure,” Damien said, offering his hand.
Ava hesitated a fraction too long before taking it. His grip was firm—too firm. Like he was reminding her who he was. Like he knew something she didn’t want anyone else in the room to know.
She forced a professional smile. “Mr. Wolfe.”
“Have we met?” he asked softly.
Her pulse kicked. That voice—velvet and venom—was unmistakable.
“Not formally,” she replied. “But I attended the Paris presentation.”
His lips curled into the ghost of a smirk. “Ah. That must be it.”
The knowing glint in his eyes burned hotter than any memory.
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Later That Day — Ava’s Office
She slammed the door shut behind her and exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for years.
Of all the men in Paris. Of all the hotel rooms in the world.
She ran a hand through her hair and stared at her reflection in the glass. She looked like a woman in control. A woman with poise and power.
But inside?
Her stomach was in chaos. Her mind screamed.
She had broken her rule, and now her one-night stand was her biggest client. The most high-profile account of her career. And if anyone found out?
She’d be ruined.
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Damien’s Office — Private Suite Upstairs
“Pull her file,” Damien said to his assistant without looking up.
“Ms. Sinclair?”
“Yes.”
He stared at the skyline, but in his mind, he was back in Paris. Back in that hotel room. Back in her.
He hadn’t planned on ever seeing her again. He’d liked the mystery. The anonymity.
But now that he knew her name… knew her sharp wit and fearless gaze?
He wanted more.
Not because he should. But because he absolutely, dangerously shouldn’t.
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The Next Day — Strategy Meeting, Wolfe Global HQ
Ava clicked through the slides with practiced calm, her voice strong and clear. “The launch campaign for Wolfe Foundation should emphasize emotional impact. Not just numbers—stories. Real lives are changed by your contributions.”
Damien watched her the entire time but said nothing.
Until the room emptied.
“You kept your name from me,” he said once they were alone.
“It was one night,” Ava replied, packing her laptop. “We agreed it meant nothing.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
“Then let me remind you,” she snapped, turning to face him. We both walked away. And now this—” she gestured around the office “—this is business. Nothing else.”
He stepped closer. Close enough that she caught the scent of his cologne and the memory it triggered.
“Liar,” he said softly.
“I’m not.”
“You haven’t stopped thinking about it.”
She braced herself. “Neither have you. That’s the problem.”
He smirked. “It’s only a problem if we let it be.”
“We will.”
He tilted his head. “Then prove it.”
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That Night — Ava’s Apartment
She tried to sleep. She really did.
But every time she closed her eyes, she felt his hands again. His voice was in her ear. His breath was on her skin.
Damien Wolfe wasn’t just in her past now. He was her present. Her future paycheck. Her career's biggest risk.
And he knew it.
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> The buzz of her phone dragged her from a half-sleep.
Damien Wolfe: One New Message.
We may have agreed to “only for tonight”…
But you and I both know it’s not over.
Dinner. Tomorrow. No rules.
Ava stared at the screen, heart racing. She should say no. Sh
e had to say no.
But her fingers hovered over the keyboard for far too long.
And then, dangerously, they typed one word:
“Yes.”
- Writer
