The office was unusually quiet that late afternoon, the faint hum of air conditioning and the occasional click of a keyboard the only interruptions. Bella sat at her desk, hands fidgeting with her pen, heart pounding in anticipation. Damien had called her in for “a discussion”—his tone had been low, commanding, but there was an edge to it she couldn’t ignore. And she knew he wasn’t alone.
Her eyes flicked toward the door just as it swung open. Ethan stepped in first, his broad frame blocking the doorway. Behind him, Damien followed, every step deliberate, his tailored suit hugging the dangerous lines of his body. The tension in the room was palpable—electric, suffocating, undeniable.
“Bella,” Damien’s voice was low, smooth, almost a growl. “I think it’s time we clear the air… about a few
