CHAPTER 2
1202 Words
The first formal meeting between Evelyn and Damien was a control exercise for both of them.
His sharp eyes held her in place as she sat across from him in the large conference room. As he flipped through a page, he declared, "You will be following me for the next few weeks." "I want you to know how I manage my companies. If you want The Haven to succeed, you need to learn from the best.”
Her jaw tightened. “I don’t need a lesson in corporate greed.”
He smirked. “Call it what you want. But if you think you can protect The Haven without learning how the real world works, you’re naive.”
The ensuing meeting was a never-ending barrage of data, forecasts, and conversations that Evelyn could hardly take in. She was having trouble focusing by the time they took a lunch break.
Rachel's name flashed on her phone as she entered the corridor. Her buddy taunted, "Tell me you haven't stabbed him yet."
“Not yet. But the day’s not over.”
Evelyn didn’t expect Damien to appear behind her, amusement flickering in his eyes. “If you’re plotting my murder, Miss Carter, at least be discreet about it.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I—”
“Come,” he said, already walking away. "We haven't finished yet."
She let out a harsh breath and followed him, knowing that it would be much harder to survive Damien Sterling than she had expected.
When Evelyn returned to Damien's office the following morning, there was a strong sense of something unsaid between them. Determined not to be caught off guard by him again, she had spent the night reviewing every aspect of their meetings.
She felt her skin tingle as he watched her intently from behind his desk. He flipped through some papers and declared, "We're going to a gala tonight." "I'll have you with me."
She frowned. “A gala? How does that pertain to The Haven?”
“It’s a charity event,” he said smoothly. “An opportunity to secure more donors.”
She crossed her arms. “And why do I need to be there?”
His lips curved into a knowing smirk. “Because, Miss Carter, appearances matter. You will discover the true meaning of playing this game tonight.
The sleek, midnight-blue gown that embraced her body caught Evelyn's attention as she stood in front of the full-length mirror. With each movement, the slit rode high up her thigh as the silk clung to her curves in a way that seemed almost indecent. This dress was a statement, not just a dress. She felt uncertain about making one.
Evelyn was sitting on the edge of her bed when Rachel, her best friend and the financial manager at The Haven, smirked at her. "You clean up nice."
Evelyn shot her a glare through the mirror. "I feel like I’m playing dress-up."
Rachel got up and adjusted Evelyn's shoulder straps. "Well, isn't that the main idea? You must dress appropriately since you are entering his realm.
Evelyn exhaled sharply. The world of Damien Sterling was one of extravagance, dominance, and deceit. She needed to be prepared since the gala was more than simply a fundraising event; it was a battleground.
Her tummy knotted as there was a knock on the door. She started to open it and saw Damien himself. With his dark hair groomed and his sharp jawline highlighted by the hallway lighting, he looked devastatingly handsome in a well cut black tuxedo.
Slowly and deliberately, his eyes moved over her. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes before he extended his arm. "Shall we?"
Evelyn took a moment to think before she put her hand in his. He had a warm, powerful grip that was much more enticing than she wanted to acknowledge.
It was a magnificent display of money and power. The room was filled with golden light from crystal chandeliers, and the sound of champagne glasses clinking, laughter, and conversation filled the air. Men and women in fine clothing wandered around, some making small talk, others making silent agreements with a single look.
As he led her through the crowd, Evelyn felt Damien's hand land at the small of her back. The touch was possessive, a silent claim she wasn’t sure how to interpret.
"Smile," he murmured close to her ear. "You’re representing The Haven tonight."
She forced a polite expression, though every fiber of her being bristled at the command. Before she could snap back, a distinguished older gentleman approached them.
"Damien! Always a pleasure," the man said, his voice smooth with the confidence of old money. His eyes shifted to Evelyn, curiosity sparking. "And who is this vision?"
Damien’s hand didn’t leave her back. "Evelyn Carter. She runs The Haven Foundation."
The man’s eyes gleamed with interest. "Ah, the nonprofit I’ve heard so much about. A noble cause indeed."
Evelyn extended her hand, offering a professional smile. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr...?"
He gave her a "Sinclair," shaking her hand. "Tell me, Miss Carter, how is it that you’ve managed to capture Damien’s attention? He isn’t exactly known for his... altruism."
She stiffened slightly, but before she could respond, Damien chuckled. "Let’s just say she’s very persuasive."
Sinclair laughed, clearly amused. "Well, if she can make you care about something other than profit margins, she must be quite the force."
Damien’s grip on her waist tightened ever so slightly. "You have no idea."
The conversation continued, shifting to business, investments, and the evening’s fundraising goals. Evelyn played her part, engaging with potential donors, explaining The Haven’s mission, and masking her unease at how easily Damien maneuvered these social circles.
Then came the moment she had been dreading.
"Shall we dance?" Damien asked, offering his hand.
She hesitated. "I—"
"It’s for appearances, Miss Carter," he reminded her, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Unless you’d prefer I find another partner?"
Something in his tone, a challenge maybe, made her bristle. She put her hand in his and raised her chin.
The music changed to something slow and seductive as he escorted her onto the dance floor. With his hand resting on the bend of her waist, Damien drew her near. He led her with ease, his movements deliberate and flowing, and she gasped.
"You’re tense," he whispered to her. "Relax."
"Hard to do when I feel like I’m being paraded around as some kind of trophy."
His mouth twitched at the edge. "Would you rather I ignore you?"
Her eyes narrowed. "I prefer that you tell me the truth about my true purpose for being here. This goes beyond The Haven.
His gaze darkened. "No, it’s not."
The admission sent a shiver down her spine. He twisted her elegantly, drawing her back flush against his chest before she could shove him any harder. It was dizzying, the heat of his body, the smell of his perfume.
He whispered, "Careful, Miss Carter," in her ear. "You might just start enjoying yourself."
Her pulse thundered, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
This was just a game.
One she couldn’t afford to lose.
- Writer
