Enola stood before Damien, her posture composed and her expression unreadable. From the moment she entered his office, she exuded an air of calm that belied the nervousness swirling within her. Damien, on the other hand, was a vision of controlled intensity as he sat in his chair, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on her.
He sat with a commanding presence, every line of his body exuding power and confidence. His gaze roamed over Enola, drinking in every detail with unabashed admiration. Not a single eyelash dared to drop as he appraised her from head to toe, his gaze lingering on every curve and contour of her form.
Enola felt a shiver run down her spine as Damien's intense scrutiny washed over her. His silence was palpable, suffocating almost, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable beneath his penetrating gaze. She dared not meet his eyes, fearing the intensity of his stare.
She had intended to simply hand him the keys and leave, avoiding any unnecessary interaction. But Damien's directive to his secretary had overridden her plans, leaving her standing before him, paralyzed by his presence.
A smirk played at the corners of Damien's lips as he observed her discomfort, reveling in the effect he had on her. With a deliberate shift in his demeanor, he cleared his throat, his voice dripping with authority as he broke the silence.
"Are you here to make me look at you like that?" he asked, his tone stern and commanding.
Enola's breath caught in her throat as she finally met his gaze, her eyes wide with trepidation. At that moment, she realized the true extent of Damien's power over her, and she couldn't help but wonder what other secrets lay hidden beneath his enigmatic exterior.
"No, I didn't..." Enola began, but Damien interrupted her before she could finish her words. His curiosity piqued, he leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked on her.
"I heard you found something."
Enola nodded and reached into her bag, her fingers fumbling with the zipper as she retrieved the keys Damien had left in the elevator. With a gentle smile, she extended the key towards him.
Damien's gaze softened momentarily as he looked into her smile, a flicker of warmth softening the edges of his expression. But he quickly composed himself, nodding curtly as he motioned for her to place the keys on the desk.
Enola took a few steps forward, her movements hesitant as she approached the desk. She was about to turn and leave when Damien's voice cut through the air, commanding her to stay.
"Sit," he instructed, his tone firm yet strangely inviting.
Enola's heart raced at the unexpected command, her instincts urging her to obey. But before she could respond, she shook her head adamantly. "No, sir, it's okay, I just came to return this," she replied, her voice trembling slightly with nervousness.
Damien watched her closely, his gaze unwavering as he assessed her reaction. "Enola Sheridan, right?" he queried.
Enola nodded in confirmation, her eyes meeting his with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "How did you know this is my office?" he asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"It's not hard to find a person like you," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. As Enola spoke, Damien couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her cryptic response.
"I mean, everyone knows you. It's not hard to find." As Enola spoke, before she could say further, he rose from his chair, causing Enola's heart to race with anticipation. She rubbed her hands together nervously, her pulse quickening as he approached.
He stood before her, his presence looming large as she felt her knees grow weak beneath her. But she forced a smile, determined not to let him see how much his presence affected her. After all, it made no sense for him to have such an effect on her.
"Have I seen you anywhere before?" Damien inquired, his voice smooth and calculated, his eyes locked on Enola with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.
Enola's heart pounded in her chest as she met his gaze, her mind racing to recall their previous encounters. "Yes, that day in the corridor of the campus," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
A smirk tugged at the corners of Damien's lips, causing Enola to furrow her brows in confusion.
"I mean to say before that, Ms. Sheridan?"
"What are you saying sir, I am no..."
"I mean to say why I feel like I have seen you before, maybe you had forgotten." Damien's question hung in the air, but Enola remained silent, she looked down to understand what he was saying but this time her attention was drawn irresistibly to the figure before her. Her gaze inadvertently dropped, as he was way too close to her her eyes unintentionally landed on his sinewy chest where two of his buttons were left undone. She couldn't help but be drawn to the way his shirt strained against the contours of his muscular frame.
Damien noticed her lingering gaze on him and chuckled inwardly, his smirk widening at the realization.
"Are you checking me out, Ms. Sheridan?" Damien's voice, though firm, carried a teasing edge. Enola's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she realized she had been caught staring.
"No, I wasn't....." she began, only to be interrupted by Damien's next remark.
"You're trying your hardest to lie, Ms. Sheridan," he stated, his tone unwavering. Enola's mouth went dry as she struggled to find a response.
"I have to go Sir." This is all she could dare to say to him. In return, she heard him laughing at her. Enola's cheeks flushed as Damien's laughter filled the space between them, the sound ringing in her ears even though they stood mere inches apart.
Enola's mouth snapped shut, her mind racing with confusion. What had started as a simple exchange had quickly escalated into a tense and unexpected encounter. She couldn't understand why Damien had such a profound effect on her, why his presence seemed to rattle her to the core.
As she met Damien's unwavering gaze, a wave of nervousness washed over her. What was happening between them, and why did she feel so inexplicably drawn to him? The questions swirled in her mind, leaving her feeling more perplexed than ever before.
"Have a good day sir." With a nod, Damien relented, deciding not to give her a hard time anymore. Enola turned on her heel and practically fled from the room, Damien watched her go, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
As Enola hurriedly made her exit, Damien couldn't help but watch her retreating figure, a mixture of familiarity and intrigue swirling within him. With a contemplative sigh, he walked over to the expansive window of his cabin, his gaze following her as she waited for a cab to whisk her away from the scene.
Memories of their past encounters flooded Damien's mind, each one etched into his memory with startling clarity. He remembered Enola who had once been a vibrant presence in his life, her laughter echoing through the halls of their shared past. But now, faced with the sight of her, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the realization that she no longer remembered him.
"She doesn't remember any of it," he murmured to himself, his voice tinged with a hint of certainty."
As he watched Enola disappear into the night, Damien couldn't shake the feeling that their encounter had brought something unexpected into his life. Something that had the potential to reignite memories long thought lost. With a determined glint in his eyes, he watched her vanish away into the crowd.
_________
"I told you not to come here," Alfred whispered, his tone laced with fear and desperation. In the dimly lit study room, Alfred stood anxiously before the masked man, his voice quivering with urgency. The masked man's presence loomed ominously in the room. Hoping Damien's men hadn't seen his arrival, Alfred swiftly closed the door and windows of his study room. For days, he had observed suspicious figures surveilling his house, convinced they were Damien's men. The first encounter with him had revealed the chilling power behind his cold gazes, leaving Alfred acutely aware of the danger he possessed.
"You don't have to worry about that; they don't know I'm here. I came with security," the masked man assured, their conversation whispered between them.
"I have to worry. What I saw that day... he knows no mercy, no remorse, no humanity. He was searching for you," Alfred interrupted, his voice laden with concern.
"But how does he know about me..." The masked man began, but Alfred swiftly raised his hand, halting him mid-sentence.
"I've saved you every bloody time, no matter how you've turned our lives upside down. I'm ashamed of myself," Alfred declared bitterly, his anger simmering beneath the surface.
"Isn't it your duty to protect me?" the masked man smirked, challenged reeking in his voice.
"Protecting a bastard like you is the most unfortunate fate I've been dealt," Alfred retorted, his disdain palpable.
"Of course, my... did make you question your blood or your adulthood," the man smirked, his words dripping with sarcasm.
Alfred's rage boiled over, and without hesitation, he lunged forward, delivering a resounding slap across the man's face.
"How dare you..." the masked man began, his hand clutching his stinging cheek, but Alfred cut him off with a venomous glare.
"Get the hell out of my house right now, or I'll kill you with my bare hands," Alfred spat, his voice dripping with anger and contempt.
"I'm not here to stay anyway. Just give me what I want, and I'll leave," the masked man replied calmly.
Alfred's fury intensified as he opened his drawer and retrieved a bundle of cash, slamming it onto the man's face. The man smirked devilishly, snatching the money before swiftly making his exit.
Masked and disguised once more, the man hurried away from the house, his steps quick and frantic. Alfred watched from the window of his study, praying for the man's safety even as fear gripped his heart.
As the man reached the back of the building, he was suddenly confronted by five armed men dressed in black, their guns trained on him. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, the man dropped his bag and raised his hands in surrender, his eyes wide with fear.
Alfred's heart pounded in his chest as he quickly drew the curtains and hid behind the window, his mind racing with dread. Meanwhile, one of the men spoke into a phone, delivering the ominous message.
"Boss, he's here." the man spoke into the phone, a sinister smile crept across the face of the person on the other end of the line. With a slow, deliberate motion, he clenched his fist, his eyes gleaming with a dark and twisted satisfaction. He was primed and eager to satisfy his thirst for vengeance, prepared to spill blood in the name of retribution.