Chapter Thirteen
1537 Words
Damien Blackwood.
The moment he walked in, the room felt colder. His presence was like a storm cloud—silent, ominous, and demanding attention without a single word. His tailored suit only enhanced the aura of control and power he exuded.
Ava swallowed hard, forcing herself not to fidget. She didn’t know why, but his presence made her uncomfortable—like he could see through her, past the normal life she clung to.
The dean cleared his throat. “Nathan Sinclair and Adrian Kingston, you two were involved in a physical altercation today. This university does not tolerate violence on campus.”
Nathan muttered under his breath. “It wasn’t even that serious.”
Ava shot him a glare. “Not serious? You got into a fight!”
“Like I said, it wasn’t—”
Damien’s voice cut through the room like ice. “So you don’t take responsibility for your actions?”
Nathan shut his mouth instantly, and Ava turned to Damien, irritated.
“With all due respect, Mr. Blackwood,” she said, keeping her tone polite but firm, “you don’t know what happened.”
Damien’s sharp blue eyes met hers, unreadable yet intense. “I know enough.”
Ava refused to look away. “Then you also know that Nathan isn’t someone who picks fights for no reason.”
Damien leaned back slightly, assessing her. “Defensive.”
Ava clenched her fists, feeling like he was reading too much into her words.
The dean sighed, clearly eager to de-escalate the situation. “Both students have good records, so we’re considering issuing a warning instead of suspension. But this cannot happen again.”
Damien turned to Adrian, his voice low and laced with authority. “Do you understand me?”
Adrian tensed, his jaw tight. “Yes, sir.”
Ava exhaled in relief, but it was short-lived as Damien’s gaze returned to her.
“You should keep a closer eye on your brother, Miss Sinclair.”
Ava’s irritation flared again. “I do.”
Damien tilted his head slightly, as if considering her words. “Then make sure he doesn’t become a problem.”
Something in his tone sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t just about the fight—there was something else, something deeper in the way he was watching her.
She didn’t know why, but she had the unsettling feeling that this wasn’t the last time she’d cross paths with Damien Blackwood.
After the meeting, Ava grabbed Nathan’s arm and pulled him toward the exit, eager to leave.
“You’re unbelievable,” she hissed. “Do you know how embarrassing that was?”
Nathan scoffed. “Adrian started it.”
“That doesn’t mean you throw punches in the middle of campus!”
Before Nathan could respond, a deep voice interrupted.
“You should teach your brother some self-control.”
Ava turned sharply to find Damien standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.
Nathan huffed. “Why does everyone act like I was the only one fighting?”
Damien ignored him, his piercing gaze locked onto Ava. “You don’t seem like someone who enjoys unnecessary trouble, Miss Sinclair. Yet here you are, constantly cleaning up after your brother.”
Ava narrowed her eyes. “Family takes care of each other. Something I’m sure even you understand, Mr. Blackwood.”
Damien smirked, a hint of amusement flashing in his cold blue eyes. “Indeed.”
For a brief moment, neither spoke. The tension between them was thick, charged with something neither could define. Ava hated how his gaze unsettled her, how he seemed to see right through her defenses.
Damien took a step closer, and she instinctively held her ground.
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” he said smoothly. “And yet, I keep running into you.”
Ava’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral. “Maybe it’s you who keeps appearing where I am, Mr. Blackwood.”
A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips. “Interesting perspective.”
Nathan, oblivious to the charged moment, rolled his eyes. “Can we go now?”
Ava tore her gaze from Damien’s, suddenly realizing how close he’d gotten. “Yes, we’re leaving.”
Without another word, she turned on her heel, pulling Nathan along. But even as they walked away, she could still feel Damien’s eyes on her back.
And for reasons she couldn’t explain, that realization made her pulse race.
Vivian adjusted the cuff of her blazer as she stepped out of the sleek black car, the towering glass building of Blackwood Enterprises reflecting the morning sun. She had been on many business trips before, but this one felt different. It wasn’t just about a partnership—it was about standing her ground in a world dominated by men like Damien Blackwood.
Beside her, Nicholas Kingston exuded his usual confidence, his sharp gaze sweeping over the entrance before turning to her. “You ready for this?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Vivian let out a slow breath. “Of course.”
She didn’t have the luxury of hesitation. As the heir to the Sinclair family’s international investments, she had to prove that her name meant more than just legacy—it meant power.
Together, they entered the building, where a team of assistants greeted them. It wasn’t long before they were led into one of Blackwood’s high-end conference rooms, a space designed to intimidate. Dark walls, a massive table, and a panoramic view of the city below.
And at the head of that table sat Damien Blackwood.
He was dressed impeccably, his dark suit tailored to perfection, his expression unreadable as he leaned back in his chair. Beside him, Marcus stood, ready to oversee the meeting.
Vivian met Damien’s gaze without flinching. She had seen powerful men before, but there was something different about him. The way he carried himself, the way silence seemed to bend to his will—it was unnerving.
Nicholas, however, was unfazed. He extended a hand with a charismatic smile. “Damien. It’s been a while.”
Damien shook his hand briefly before gesturing to the seats across from him. “Let’s get to business.”
Vivian took her seat, her posture poised and professional. The meeting began, discussions flowing from investment strategies to logistics. But throughout it all, Vivian could feel Damien’s piercing gaze lingering on her, as if he were analyzing more than just the numbers on the screen.
Finally, as the meeting neared its end, Damien spoke directly to her. “I’ve heard a lot about the Sinclair family, but not much about you.”
Vivian’s lips curled slightly. “Then you haven’t been paying attention.”
Marcus coughed to hide a smirk, while Nicholas glanced at her in mild surprise. But Damien… he simply leaned forward, intrigued.
“I’ll be paying attention now.”
The tension in the room shifted. It wasn’t just business anymore—it was a game of power, of proving who held the upper hand.
Vivian didn’t back down.
She had come here to make an impression, and it seemed she had done exactly that.
Damien leaned back in his chair as the door closed behind Vivian and Nicholas, the air still heavy from the intensity of the discussion. The meeting had gone as expected—straightforward negotiations, numbers, and terms that suited Blackwood Enterprises. But it wasn’t the business deal that lingered in his mind.
It was her.
Vivian Sinclair.
She was composed, intelligent, and knew how to hold her ground. Most people bent under the weight of his gaze, hesitated in their words, or at least showed some level of intimidation. But not her. She was sharp, unyielding, and completely in control of herself.
Damien exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping against the polished wood of the table. He had researched the Sinclair family before the meeting, but there hadn’t been much about Vivian beyond her role in their business empire. He had expected a well-trained heiress, someone groomed for power but not necessarily capable of wielding it.
He had been wrong.
“She’s interesting,” Marcus commented from beside him, breaking the silence.
Damien didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he let the words settle. He wasn’t interested in her in the way Marcus probably meant—but there was something about her presence that made him take notice. And Damien never ignored anything that caught his attention.
“She’s competent,” he finally said, his voice even. “More than I expected.”
Marcus smirked. “She didn’t hesitate to challenge you.”
Damien’s jaw tensed slightly. “No. She didn’t.”
It wasn’t defiance. It was confidence. A carefully measured balance between respect and assertion.
That made her different from most people he dealt with.
Marcus studied him for a moment before speaking again. “Are you considering a partnership with the Sinclairs, or are you just intrigued by the woman leading the deal?”
Damien shot him a warning look, and Marcus chuckled. “Just asking.”
“This is business,” Damien stated. “And I don’t mix business with distractions.”
Marcus raised a brow but didn’t argue.
- Writer
