A Night With Mr. Woods

CHAPTER 6

The office was quieter than usual, but that didn’t make it easier. Every time I passed Damian’s glass-walled office, I felt my pulse spike. The man didn’t know me from Adam, but I remembered every detail of that night—the heat, the way his hand had brushed mine, the way his eyes had held me… like I mattered more than the world.

Maya had left me with a smile that was meant to reassure me, but it only made my stomach twist. “He doesn’t even remember,” she had said. But I couldn’t erase my memory that easily. Not even if I tried.

The day dragged on like a storm cloud, each tick of the clock louder than the last. Filing, scheduling, answering emails—I was moving, doing, but my mind was elsewhere. And then it happened.

Damian walked past my desk. Not towards me. Not acknowledging me at all. But the scent of him hit me like a punch—cologne, expensive, sharp. I swallowed hard and tried to focus on the files in front of me. My hands shook slightly. He didn’t notice, of course. He never did.

And then Kira appeared, like a shadow I couldn’t escape. She leaned over my desk with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “New here?” she asked, her tone sweet but with that edge that made me want to punch something.

“Yes,” I said carefully. “Allison. I’m his new assistant.”

Her eyes flicked up to Damian’s office, then back at me. “I see. Well, good luck. He can be… demanding.”

I nodded, forcing a polite smile. “Thank you.”

She walked away, her heels clicking like a countdown to something I didn’t want to face. And suddenly, I realized the office wasn’t quiet anymore. It was tense, waiting for the storm to hit.

Later, when I finally had a few minutes alone, I tried to breathe. I opened my laptop, scrolling through emails, trying to convince myself that work could distract me from Damian Woods. But there it was—an email from him.

I froze. My name was on the subject line. My heart jumped.

Allison, come to my office. Urgent.

Urgent. That one word sent my chest tight, my stomach curling. Urgent could mean anything. A crisis. A mistake. Or… him finally noticing me.

I walked toward his office like I was walking into fire. Each step was heavier than the last. The door was open. He was sitting behind his desk, looking over some documents. He didn’t look up at first.

Then he did. And my breath caught. He was looking at me, really looking, for the first time. Not in passing. Not like a stranger. His eyes narrowed slightly. Not hostile. Curious.

“Sit,” he said, his voice low. Commanding, but not rude.

I obeyed, sliding into the chair across from him. He didn’t smile. He didn’t make small talk. He just studied me.

“Allison,” he said finally, “I’ve been reviewing the numbers from the Kincaid project. And there’s something… off.”

I nodded, pretending I understood everything he said. I did understand some, enough to know this wasn’t about me—or was it? My mind twisted with possibilities.

Then he leaned back. “You’ve been working here less than a day, and yet…” He hesitated, just slightly. “…you seem to notice things others miss. Am I wrong?”

I swallowed. I could feel my heart in my throat. Did he mean it? Was he complimenting me—or was it a test?

“I—I just… try to pay attention,” I said. My voice sounded foreign to me, too soft, too nervous.

He nodded slowly, as if deciding something. “Good. I like that. Keep doing it.”

Then he stood, and the movement made my stomach clench. He walked to the window, hands in pockets, and stared out at the city like he was thinking about everything and nothing all at once.

“I have a question,” he said finally, turning to me. “How far would you go… to protect someone you care about?”

My heart stopped. My head spun. Protect someone I care about? Him? Was he asking me to confess, or was this some kind of game?

“I… I’d do anything,” I said before I could think better.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t move. He just nodded once, sharply. “Good. That’s… important.”

I didn’t know what he meant. And I didn’t have time to ask. Because at that exact moment, my phone buzzed in my bag.

Maya’s name flashed on the screen. I answered immediately.

“Allison,” she said, her voice tense. “It’s Damian. He—he just called me. He’s asking about you. And something… something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean wrong?” I whispered.

“I don’t know,” she said quickly. “I just… I think you need to get out of the Office. Now.”

My pulse jumped. I looked at Damian, who was still near the window, calm, collected, unaware—or pretending to be. And then my phone buzzed again.

A text. From an unknown number:

He knows.

I froze. The words burned across the screen. My hands shook. My stomach dropped.

And then I realized the office door was slowly closing behind me.