Chapter 2:The Warning
1045 Words
FORBIDDEN DESIRES
Chapter Two: The Warning
Ellen’s POV
The elevator ride back down to the lobby felt like it took years.
I gripped my phone tightly, the text still glowing on the screen like a lit fuse:
UNKNOWN: He knows.
My heart pounded so hard it echoed in my ears. The words repeated over and over. He knows. He knows.
But how could he?
I’d been careful.
Every document was fabricated by the best. My name, background, work history,everything had been scrubbed clean. No one at Blackwood Industries should have had any idea that I, Ellen sinclair , daughter of the man Damien Blackwood destroyed, was now posing as his loyal assistant.
Unless…
Unless someone was watching me.
The doors slid open on the lobby level. I walked out like I wasn’t unraveling on the inside. Calm, poised, practiced. The security guards didn’t glance twice. The receptionist smiled, oblivious. Outside, the city moved like normal.
But i knew something had shifted.
And if Damien Blackwood knew who I really was… then this wasn’t just a game anymore.
I felt a cold squeeze in my chest
I didn’t go home.
Instead, I rerouted to a small hotel bar in Midtown, neutral ground. Not tied to my alias. Not tied to the past. I needed time to think. To strategize.
I ordered a whiskey neat and took the farthest booth in the back. Dim lighting. Clear view of the exit. Old habits.
My phone buzzed again.
UNKNOWN: Don’t trust him. He’s playing you.
No name. No clue who it was. But someone knew my secret. And worse ,they were watching closely enough to know what Damien might be doing.
My mind raced through possibilities. Was this my father’s old ally?
Someone inside Blackwood Industries with a conscience? Or… was it Damien himself, playing some twisted game?
I finished the drink in one swallow, the burn helping more than it should have.
By the next morning, I had buried the panic. Replaced it with control.
No more second-guessing.
If Damien knew who I was, he would’ve used it already. He would’ve confronted me, made an example out of me, shut me out.
But he hadn’t.
He was waiting.
And waiting meant he wanted something.
Fine. I’d give him what he wanted until i had exactly what i need to destroy him.
my first meeting of the day was brutal.
Damien sat at the head of the boardroom table like a king among courtiers. Executives flanked him, pages of reports laid out like maps of conquest. I stood behind him, tablet in hand, taking notes, watching everything.
His voice was calm. Authoritative. Deadly when it needed to be.
Halfway through the meeting, his fingers twitched barely noticeable. But I saw it.
He paused for half a second. Just long enough for me to catch the flicker of pain in his expression before the mask snapped back into place.
Illness. It was subtle. But it was there.
And he was hiding it.
Another weapon I could use… if I played my cards right.
After the meeting, as the room emptied, Damien looked up at me.
He took some steps closer
I could feel my heart hammering in my chest harder at each beat
“You’re more observant than most,” he said, quietly. “That’s good.”
I kept my face neutral. “You hired me to be useful.”
“Useful, yes. Dangerous, not yet.”
My heart skipped. “Excuse me?”
A faint smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “People with secrets tend to leave fingerprints. I’m just curious what yours will look like.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
And then he turned back to his desk, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. “Cancel my 4 p.m. appointment And tell legal I want the revised contract by noon.”
Dismissed.
But not forgotten.
That afternoon, I slipped away to the lower archives,an off-limits section where Blackwood Industries kept physical records from older acquisitions. Dusty files. Forgotten deals. And maybe, just maybe, a trail of evidence about what Damien did to Sinclair Holdings.
I keyed the master code his assistant had carelessly mouthed in a meeting and the archive door sighed opened .
Inside, rows of steel cabinets stretched down the dim hallway like soldiers standing at attention. I moved fast, searching under “Sinclair,” “S Holdings,” and “March 2020,” the date the takeover was finalized.
Then I found it.
A folder marked CONFIDENTIAL – ACQUISITION FILES – SINCLAIR HOLDINGS.
I flipped it open.
At first, it looked standard valuation summaries, press statements, merger reports. But tucked behind the top page was a memo. Handwritten.
Urgent: Do NOT proceed without Blackwood’s final signature. Legal flagged multiple ethical violations in the asset freeze. Could cause backlash.
My breath caught.
Violations.
It wasn’t just a ruthless acquisition it was illegal.
I pulled out my phone to snap a photo”
Footsteps.
Heavy. Purposeful.
Coming fast.
I froze. Slammed the folder shut. Tucked it back into place and ducked behind a cabinet just as the door opened.
Damien Blackwood stepped inside.
Alone.
He looked around the room, eyes scanning the aisles, and for one chilling second, they landed right where I was hidden.
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t call out.
He just stood there. Watching.
Listening.
And then, just as suddenly, he turned and walked out.
The door shut.
And I finally breathed again.
Later that evening, I sat on the edge of my bed, heart still racing.
He’d been there. In the archives. At the exact moment I’d found the file.
Coincidence?
No. I didn’t believe in those.
He’d been testing me, Timing me ,Watching for the moment I slipped . He knew I was digging but how much?
And why hadn’t he stopped me?
My phone buzzed again. Same anonymous number.
*UNKNOWN:* You’re being followed. Check your fire escape. Now.
Cold trickled down my spine.I yanked the curtain aside.
On the fifth-floor fire escape, a figure crouched in a dark hoodie. A slim object glittered in his hand metal catching the streetlight as he worked the lock. He looked up. Our eyes met. He didn’t run. He tipped his head, a small, knowing smile curving across his face.
- Writer
