Chapter Four: Eyes Like Ice
947 Words
Alina sat in the sleek boardroom, her spine straight and jaw tight as a chill settled in the air—not from the central AC, but from the man at the head of the table.
Damon Voss.
The room was full of executives, directors, analysts. All powerful. All suddenly silent.
Damon leaned forward, tapping a stack of printouts in front of him. “Can anyone tell me why this quarterly report looks like it was compiled by a sleep-deprived intern?”
No one spoke.
“I’m not being rhetorical,” he said, his voice sharp and calm. “Which one of you signed off on this garbage?”
A VP—mid-forties, graying, trying to maintain dignity, cleared his throat. “That came from our finance team, under Jenna’s department. They’ve been short-staffed.”
Damon turned his eyes on Jenna.
Alina had never seen eyes like his—pale gray, colder than steel, colder than reason. They didn't just see you; they stripped you down. Measured you. Found you wanting.
Jenna flinched, despite the glossy confidence she wore when she'd walked in.
“Being short-staffed is not an excuse for incompetence,” Damon said, voice low but lethal. “You’ve had three weeks. You’ve received three reminders. And what I have in my hand is not data—it’s dead weight. Fix it. Personally. Or clear your desk.”
A single beat of silence. Then: “Understood,” Jenna whispered.
Damon nodded once. “Meeting adjourned.”
Chairs scraped against the polished floor as everyone filed out, eyes low, avoiding his stare. Alina remained frozen in her seat, notebook open, hands still.
He hadn't spoken to her the entire time. But he’d known she was there. Watching.
As the last person left, Damon stood and walked to the wall of windows, the city sprawling out beyond him like a kingdom. For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then: “Did I scare you?”
Alina didn’t flinch. “No.”
He turned slightly, lips curving in that near-smile she was beginning to dread. “Interesting. You watched me eviscerate a director and didn’t blink.”
“I’ve seen worse.”
Damon faced her fully now. “You grew up around business, didn’t you?”
The question hit her like a slap.
She chose her words carefully. “My father was in distribution. I spent most of my childhood around trade shows and logistics reports.”
It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth either.
Damon studied her. “That explains the spine.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Would you rather I looked terrified?”
“I’d rather you looked loyal.”
Their gazes locked. A slow war of wills.
Alina stood, collecting her things. “Then stop testing me like I’m your enemy.”
She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her at the door.
“I test everyone,” he said. “The ones who pass become weapons. The ones who fail... become lessons.”
She paused. Looked over her shoulder. “And what do you become, Mr. Voss?”
A long beat passed. He didn’t smile this time.
“A warning.”
Downstairs, Alina paced the hallway outside the marketing wing, her hands trembling—not from fear, but from fury. Not just at him—but at herself.
She had seen men like Damon in courtrooms, boardrooms, the pages of Forbes. Ruthless. Slick. Sharp enough to cut down empires with a pen.
But what she hadn’t expected… was the silence that followed him. The way people flinched. The way power twisted the air when he entered a room.
And the way she’d looked at him.
Not with hatred. Not only.
She hated that part most of all.
That evening, she sat across from Evelyn at the tiny kitchen table in their cramped apartment.
Evelyn, all bright eyes and messy curls, was halfway through a cheap carton of Thai takeout, scrolling t****k with one hand and eating with the other.
“You’re awfully quiet for someone who just got hired by the Dark Lord of Finance,” she said, peeking up at Alina. “Did he try to sacrifice you in the boardroom?”
“No,” Alina muttered, poking at her food. “He just breathes fire.”
“Hot fire?”
Alina threw a napkin at her.
Evelyn giggled, then turned serious. “You okay, though? You look... tired. And kind of haunted.”
Alina looked down at her noodles. “I’m fine. It’s just—more intense than I thought.”
Evelyn gave her a long look. “Is it working? The plan?”
Alina hesitated. Then nodded. “Piece by piece.”
She didn’t mention Damon’s stare. Or his warning. Or the fact that the man she came to destroy had something inside him that made her chest tighten in ways she couldn’t explain.
At that same moment, Damon stood alone in his penthouse.
He poured a glass of scotch and stared at the folder Leo had dropped off earlier.
Inside were flagged details from Alina’s application: a lack of verifiable school records, fake phone numbers on references, and a suspicious gap in employment.
Damon’s gut twisted.
She was lying. That much was clear.
What wasn’t clear… was why he hadn’t already fired her.
He should’ve. He would’ve, with anyone else.
But something about her made him wait. Made him curious.
She stared back at him like she knew the weight of the empire he carried. She wasn’t afraid of him. And yet… she should be.
He sipped the drink and leaned back.
“She’s hiding something,” he murmured to himself. “But so am I.”
- Writer
