CHAPTER TWO
1123 Words
Dinner
The evening air rolled off Darling Harbour like silk—warm, perfumed with sea salt and money. Ava stood outside Wharf Bar at Barangaroo, watching as the city lights trembled across the water. She’d spent half her first week rehearsing this moment: the company’s official welcome dinner.
Inside, laughter and low music bled through the windows. Waiters glided between tables, balancing trays of champagne and oysters. The Helios Group had rented the entire top floor; it glittered like a glass crown under the skyline.
Ava smoothed the hem of her dress—a soft emerald satin number her mum had insisted on buying her from a thrift store. “Something to make them remember you,” Marie had said.
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked in.
Inside, the hum of conversation was a living thing. Executives in tailored suits, interns in borrowed confidence. Everyone seemed to know everyone. A few faces turned toward her as she entered, polite curiosity flickering before returning to their drinks.
Then she saw Talia Winters across the room, waving her over.
“You made it,” Talia said, pressing a glass of champagne into her hand. “Try to relax. These things are mostly for show.”
“Show?” Ava echoed.
Talia smiled tightly. “You’ll learn.”
The older woman’s gaze shifted briefly toward the balcony, where Damian Voss stood apart from the crowd, his suit dark against the city lights. A few senior staff lingered near him, laughing a little too loudly at whatever he’d said.
“He doesn’t come to these often,” Talia whispered. “Count yourself lucky.”
Lucky. The word landed strangely.
As the night blurred into chatter and laughter, Ava found herself floating between conversations. People asked the same questions—Where are you from? How’s your first week? Is Mr. Voss as intimidating as they say?—but their smiles never quite reached their eyes.
Halfway through a story about her move from Newcastle, a deep voice interrupted from behind.
“I see you’re settling in.”
Damian.
He stood there, glass in hand, his tie loosened slightly, eyes steady on hers. Conversation around them seemed to dim.
“Mr. Voss,” Ava managed, heart skipping. “Thank you for inviting me. This is… beautiful.”
“Please,” he said, the faintest trace of amusement in his tone, “call me Damian. Tonight isn’t about work.”
He gestured toward the balcony. “Walk with me.”
The night air was crisp, scented faintly with jasmine from the planters that lined the terrace. The harbour stretched below like a moving mirror.
Damian leaned on the railing beside her, the city lights painting sharp edges across his face.
“You did well this week,” he said quietly. “Talia speaks highly of you. Organized. Discreet.”
“Thank you,” Ava said. “I just want to do my best.”
He looked at her, that same unreadable half-smile tugging at his mouth. “That’s what Clara said too.”
Ava turned to him. “Clara Liu? The secretary before me?”
He nodded, eyes still on the water. “Smart girl. Too curious for her own good.”
A shiver crept up Ava’s arms though the air was warm. “Did she move to another company?”
He took a sip of his drink, didn’t answer. Then, softly, “Curiosity is a dangerous thing in my line of work.”
She forced a small laugh. “I’ll remember that.”
Damian’s gaze flicked to her glass. “You haven’t touched your drink.”
“Oh. I—”
He took it gently from her hand, replaced it with a fresh one from a passing waiter. “This one’s better. Imported.”
Ava hesitated, then took a sip. Sweet, strong, and unfamiliar.
He raised his own glass. “To new beginnings.”
She smiled faintly and clinked her glass against his.
By the time dessert arrived, the room had softened—the kind of blur that comes with too much laughter, too much wine.
Ava felt light, her cheeks warm. She didn’t remember how many glasses she’d had, only that Damian had stayed close, always refilling, always watching.
At one point, he leaned in to whisper something she didn’t quite catch, his breath brushing her ear. The sound of her name from his lips made her heart stumble.
Then the lights shifted. Someone dimmed them for a toast.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Brandon Cole, the COO, announced, “a warm welcome to Miss Ava Reynolds, our newest addition to the Helios family.”
Applause rippled through the room. Ava smiled, dizzy with pride and champagne. She looked toward Damian—he was already watching her, eyes dark, expression unreadable.
The rest was a blur. A flash of laughter. The city spinning outside the glass. Then—nothing.
She woke to light.
Ava’s eyes fluttered open to find herself lying on a couch in an unfamiliar office. Her mouth was dry; her head throbbed. A blanket had been draped over her, and the room smelled faintly of sandalwood.
Panic flared.
Where am I?
She sat up too quickly, clutching her head. A door clicked behind her.
Damian stepped in, jacket off, sleeves rolled up. Calm, composed.
“You’re awake,” he said simply.
“What—what happened?”
“You fainted,” he said. “Too much champagne, perhaps. I had my driver bring you here.”
“Here?”
“My office,” he said. “It was closer than your apartment.”
She looked down—her dress strap was twisted, her makeup smudged. Shame prickled her skin. “Oh God, I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t apologize.” He handed her a glass of water. “You’re safe.”
But something in his tone made the word safe feel wrong.
Later that morning, when she finally reached her apartment, her phone was buzzing with messages—from Talia, from colleagues, all cheerful. But one caught her eye:
Unknown Number:
You should be more careful who you drink with.
Attached was a photograph.
Her blood ran cold.
It was her—half-asleep on the couch, dress askew. Damian sitting beside her, a glass in hand, looking down at her. The angle was wrong. Intimate. Suggestive.
Another message followed.
Meet me in my office at 8 a.m. sharp.
—D.V.
Ava’s breath trembled. She looked out at the city through her small window. The same skyline she’d admired all her life now looked different—colder, sharper, like it was watching her back.
And for the first time, she felt the faint shadow of something she couldn’t name yet:
Fear.
- Writer
