The Vivienne staring back at her looked like a stranger, someone wrapped up in a world that didn't belong to her.
Shaking her head, she turned away and dropped onto the couch, trying to banish Damon from her mind. But just as she reached for her laptop, her phone buzzed. She checked the screen and saw a text from him.
Damon: "Change of plans. Meet me at the Penthouse Restaurant at 7. Dress formally. It's a private event with the board."
She read the text twice, then groaned. Tonight was supposed to be her chance to catch her breath, a sliver of time away from their constant back-and-forth. But of course, Damon had other plans.
Vivienne typed a quick reply, keeping her words curt.
Vivienne: "Understood. I'll be there."
Setting the phone aside, she exhaled slowly, her mind racing with questions about the "private event." Why would he need her there? Damon was perfectly capable of handling himself with the board, and this arrangement was supposed to be a brief formality, nothing more. Yet he was pulling her in closer, into his world and every calculated corner of it, inch by inch.
She glanced at the ring on her finger, its cold, impersonal weight grounding her. Tonight, she'd play her part, just as she had this morning. But with every passing hour, the line between business and whatever was beginning to take shape between them blurred a little more.
And Vivienne knew she couldn't afford to lose herself in the gray area of Damon Sutherland's world.
Vivienne arrived at the Penthouse Restaurant precisely at seven, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she made her way through the lavish lobby. She could feel eyes on her as she entered, the whisper of her dark green silk dress trailing behind her. She wore minimal jewelry—just the engagement ring Damon had insisted she wear—and had kept her makeup subtle. The simplicity felt like armor, one last reminder that she was here to play a role, not to actually become Mrs. Damon Sutherland.
As she stepped into the main dining area, she spotted him instantly. Damon was at a table near the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking every bit as composed and powerful as ever, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone in his orbit. He rose when he saw her, his expression unreadable, but there was an undeniable spark in his eyes as she approached.
"You're early," he noted, holding out her chair. She settled into it, aware of the warmth of his hand as it brushed her shoulder.
"You told me not to be late." She kept her tone neutral, but there was a hint of challenge in her voice. She'd expected another silent, tense meal, the kind that was more about playing their parts than anything else. But as she looked around, she realized the table was set for two. The board wasn't here. It was just her and Damon.
Damon poured her a glass of wine, his movements precise. "The board will arrive later," he explained, picking up on her confusion. "But I wanted a moment with you first."
She raised an eyebrow, surprise flashing across her face. "A moment with me? Why? So you can remind me to 'stay in line with the story'?"
He looked at her for a long moment, his gaze intense. "You did well this morning, Vivienne. Better than I expected."
It wasn't exactly an apology, but coming from Damon, it was the closest thing to praise she'd ever heard. She sipped her wine, meeting his gaze. "Glad to hear it. I'd hate to think I was letting you down."
A faint smirk touched his lips. "I don't make this easy, do I?"
"No," she replied honestly. "But I didn't agree to this for 'easy.' I agreed to it because you made it sound like I didn't have a choice."
The tension between them was palpable, and she could see his eyes darken, his smirk fading as he leaned forward. "You did have a choice," he murmured. "But we both know you're here because you understand the stakes, just as I do."
Vivienne swallowed, her pulse quickening at the intensity of his gaze. She knew what he was referring to—their agreement, the financial security he'd promised her family, the leverage he held over her. But there was something more behind his words, an almost reluctant acknowledgment that neither of them was in full control of the situation anymore.
The silence stretched, heavy with unsaid words, until a voice broke the moment. "Damon! There you are!"
Vivienne turned to see Gerald Tanner approaching with a handful of other board members in tow. Damon straightened, the cool mask falling back into place as he greeted them, but she felt his hand slide to her lower back, pulling her closer.
"Ah, the lovely Mrs. Sutherland," Gerald said, extending a hand to her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Good to see you again. I trust Damon hasn't been working you too hard."
Vivienne shook his hand, maintaining her polite smile. "On the contrary, he's been wonderful." She looked up at Damon, forcing warmth into her expression. "He's quite… attentive."
Damon's gaze flickered with something she couldn't quite place, but he nodded, playing along. "I'm fortunate to have her."
The board members settled around the table, the conversation turning to business. Vivienne let Damon take the lead, watching as he effortlessly maneuvered through the questions and discussions, maintaining his position of control with an ease that fascinated her. But as the dinner wore on, she began to notice something unsettling—the way Gerald's questions seemed pointed, almost calculated. He would throw subtle barbs, references to Damon's previous relationships, his "commitment issues," each one designed to test her resolve.
"So, Vivienne," Gerald began, leaning forward, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "I imagine you've heard all the rumors about Damon's… prior relationships. Doesn't it worry you?"
Vivienne felt Damon's hand tense slightly on her back, and she knew he was waiting to see how she'd respond. She gave Gerald a calm smile, ignoring the slight rush of nerves. "I know who I married, Mr. Tanner. If I spent my time worrying about rumors, I'd have no time left to enjoy my life with Damon."
The table fell silent, and Gerald's expression tightened. Damon's hand eased, his thumb brushing against her back in a rare, unexpected show of approval.
"Well said," Damon murmured, a hint of warmth in his voice.
For the rest of the evening, Vivienne played her part with flawless precision, deflecting Gerald's probing questions, holding her own alongside Damon as he guided the discussion toward securing investor support. But beneath the polished surface, she felt the lingering tension, the awareness that she'd stepped into a game far more intricate—and far more dangerous—than she'd realized.
As the dinner finally ended and the board members departed, Damon led her out onto the rooftop terrace, the city lights stretching out below them. The air was cool, and she wrapped her arms around herself, stealing a glance at him.
"Tonight went well," he said, his voice quiet. "You were… impressive."
"Thanks." She looked at him, searching his face. "Though I have to wonder, Damon. How much of this is necessary, and how much is just you enjoying the control?"
He raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Control is always necessary, Vivienne. It's what keeps things… predictable."
"Predictable?" she echoed, her voice filled with quiet defiance. "There's nothing predictable about this. You may think you're in control, but you're not. Not entirely."
For a moment, they stood in silence, the city stretching out below them. Then Damon stepped closer, his gaze dark and unreadable, his voice barely a whisper. "Neither are you."
He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of her hair back into place. The touch was unexpected, lingering just long enough to send a spark through her. She looked up, caught in his gaze, her heart pounding with the unspoken tension simmering between them.
But before she could respond, he stepped back, the mask slipping back into place. "We both knew what we signed up for, Vivienne. Keep that in mind."
Without another word, he turned and walked back inside, leaving her standing alone on the terrace, the cool breeze whispering around her. She watched him disappear into the shadows, her mind racing, the weight of their agreement pressing down on her.
As she stood there, the realization settled over her—she was in deep, deeper than she'd anticipated. And Damon Sutherland was a far more dangerous man than she'd bargained for.