Chapter Two: Wolf in a Glass Tower
968 Words
Chapter Two: Wolf in a Glass Tower
Damon Voss stood at his penthouse office window, arms crossed, jaw locked. Thirty-nine stories above New York, the city buzzed beneath him like a toy he could crush in one hand.
He didn’t trust her.
“Alina Cross,” he muttered, watching her name scroll across the onboarding confirmation. She was smart. Confident. Too confident.
No one challenged him in an interview and got hired. Except her.
A quiet knock at the door.
Leo Grant, COO and his only friend, walked in holding two coffees. “You look like someone just spit in your scotch.”
“She’s not who she says she is,” Damon said without turning.
Leo raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bold claim about someone you hired five minutes ago.”
“She’s hiding something.”
Leo smirked. “Aren’t we all?”
Alina arrived early Monday morning, wearing black slacks, a fitted cream blouse, and zero hesitation. She made it a point not to look up at the building as she walked in. She didn’t need to be reminded how high he stood above the world—and how far she intended to bring him down.
HR gave her a slim badge and two signed forms before sending her to the executive floor. The elevator climbed fast, her stomach dipping at every ding. When the doors opened to a sleek lobby of glass and chrome, she stepped into enemy territory.
His assistant, Marla, looked her up and down. “He’s waiting. Don’t be late again.”
“It’s my first day,” Alina said.
Marla smiled without warmth. “And you’re already behind.”
Alina entered the office. Damon sat at a long glass desk, papers in organized chaos around him, sleeves rolled to his forearms.
He didn’t look up.
“You’re five minutes early,” he said. “I like that.”
“You’re welcome,” Alina replied, stepping forward.
He slid a thick folder toward her without rising. “Every project I’ve touched in the last six months. You’ll find client briefs, executive summaries, and internal reports. Memorize it. You have until Thursday.”
She flipped the folder open. The sheer volume made her blood pressure spike. “Ambitious.”
“If you’re going to breathe the same air as me,” he said finally looking up, “you’d better learn quickly. I don’t slow down.”
Alina gave him a tight smile. “Neither do I.”
He studied her again. “You don’t get nervous, do you?”
“Not anymore.”
“Why?”
Because you had already ruined everything I cared about, she thought.
“Life taught me not to flinch,” she said aloud.
For a moment, something flickered across his face. Then it was gone.
“Good,” he said. “I need someone unshakable.”
Unshakable. She clung to the word as she left his office and headed to her cubicle—a glass-walled corner with a view of his door and a direct line to his schedule.
The first few hours were relentless.
Damon emailed tasks faster than she could respond. Client calls, investor notes, two fires in finance, and an impromptu lunch meeting she had to coordinate with a rival CEO who insisted on sushi and silence.
At 1:00 PM sharp, she brought him lunch herself—a protein bowl with lemon water. Marla had told her that’s what he liked.
Damon looked up. “Impressive.”
“What?”
“You lasted four hours without a meltdown. Most don’t make it past two.”
Alina arched an eyebrow. “Then maybe you’ve been hiring the wrong people.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, brief and sharp. “Maybe.”
She hesitated, then placed a slim USB on his desk. “Compiled all the summaries into a digital presentation. With projected impact data. Figured you’d want options.”
Damon blinked. Then—“You did that this morning?”
“I started last night,” she said. “I read fast.”
He leaned back, steepling his fingers again. “Where did you really learn that?”
“NYU.”
“No. That kind of aggression doesn’t come from textbooks.”
She held his gaze. “Maybe I’ve just had to fight harder than most.”
His stare lingered, intense and unreadable. “I’m starting to believe that.”
She left before he could ask more.
By evening, Alina’s head throbbed, her eyes burned, and she’d drunk three coffees and barely eaten. But she had what she needed.
A private company memo regarding a merger with CoreStone—one of the same firms her father’s company had tried to partner with before its collapse. Damon Voss had moved in like a shark the moment their deal failed.
She forwarded a summary to her contact. Nothing traceable. No names. Just enough to confirm she was in the building, and she was doing her job.
Her phone buzzed with a response:
> Excellent work. Next step soon. Do not get comfortable.
She shoved the phone away. She couldn’t afford comfort. Not with Damon Voss three doors down and a ghost in her blood reminding her of everything she’d lost.
Across the floor, Damon stood at his office window again, watching night fall over the city.
“She’s too good,” he murmured.
Leo, now lounging on his office couch, sipped his drink. “Maybe she’s just... good.”
“She adapted too fast. Found files I didn’t even point her toward. Presented options I hadn’t considered yet.”
“So fire her.”
Damon turned. “No.”
Leo smirked. “Because you’re intrigued.”
Damon looked out at the city. “Because I want to see what she does next.”
- Writer
