LINES THAT SHOULDN'T BE CROSSED
586 Words
The meeting ended without resolution.
Or peace.
Or anything close to professionalism.
Which meant Amara was already annoyed by the time she returned to her desk.
“He’s not so bad,” Lara whispered.
Amara shot her a look.
Lara raised both hands. “I mean—he’s just… intense.”
“Intense is a polite word for insufferable,” Amara replied.
But even as she said it, she could still feel him.
That steady stare.
That calm irritation.
Like she had disrupted something in him just by existing.
She hated that she thought about it.
She hated more that it stayed with her.
Meanwhile, Damian stood in his office later that evening, reviewing the contract again.
But he wasn’t reading it.
He was remembering her voice.
Sharp.
Unfiltered.
Unbothered by who he was.
Most people adjusted themselves around him.
She didn’t.
That should have been irrelevant.
It wasn’t.
His assistant stepped in cautiously. “Sir… about the publishing team—”
“Cancel the full acquisition plan,” Damian said suddenly.
Silence.
“…Sir?”
“I said cancel it.”
The assistant hesitated. “But this is a major investment opportunity—”
“I’m not here for the company,” Damian interrupted.
A pause.
Then, quieter:
“I’m here for her.”
He didn’t explain it.
Because he didn’t fully understand it himself.
That night, Amara walked home alone.
The streets were quieter than usual.
Or maybe she was just more aware of everything.
Every shadow felt heavier.
Every sound felt closer.
She tightened her grip on her bag.
Then she saw him.
Again.
Standing across the street.
Waiting.
Not moving.
Not hiding.
Just there.
Amara stopped walking.
Her irritation flared instantly.
“What now?” she called out, voice cutting through the night.
Damian stepped forward slightly.
“You left early,” he said.
“That’s not your business.”
“It is if I’m the reason you’re leaving early.”
Amara laughed once—short and sharp. “You think you affect my schedule now?”
“I think I already do,” he replied calmly.
That made her pause.
Just for a second.
Then her expression hardened.
“Listen carefully,” she said, stepping closer. “I don’t know what kind of people you’re used to controlling—but I am not one of them.”
His gaze dropped slightly to her face.
“You’re right,” he said.
That surprised her.
Until he added—
“You’re worse.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Worse?”
“Because you don’t even realize when you’re being watched.”
That hit differently.
Uncomfortable.
Amara took a step forward. “Stop following me.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Then what is this?”
A beat.
His voice lowered slightly.
“I’m trying to understand why you keep appearing in places I don’t expect.”
Her chest tightened.
Not fear.
Not softness.
Something closer to frustration.
“You’re insane,” she said.
“Possibly.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Steele.”
She turned sharply and walked away.
But she felt it.
His eyes on her.
Still following.
Still watching.
And this time—
she didn’t know if she hated it more than she noticed it.
Behind her, Damian remained standing in the same spot long after she disappeared into the dark.
He exhaled slowly.
“She hates me,” he murmured.
A pause.
Then, almost to himself—
“That’s new.”
And somehow…
it wasn’t a problem.
It was a beginning.
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