Evelyn
Like the echoes of my broken heart still embedded deep within me, I recall the night Damon Hawke destroyed me as it seemed yesterday. That was the night I discovered his true nature and learned about his actual capabilities. Still, I have spent the years since persuading myself; it makes no difference. Yet it does.
Once upon a time, though, I loved him more than anything. He was all I could have wanted—a man with ambition, might, and a passionate passion capable of igniting a woman. He was everything I could have possibly needed.
He then betrayed me as well.
At first, it was minor—small lies, petty deceptions—until it all came down. He stole the wealth of my family, wrecked everything I had ever worked for, and left without even a cursory glance in my direction. I was simply yet another victim of his merciless quest for supremacy and riches.
But I'm back now, after years of brokenness and at last rebuilding myself from the ashes.
Returning to the scene from whence it began. The spot I promised him to pay for what he did to me. And I would do everything to cause him the suffering he put me through. Even if it means sliding back into his arms.
Though it means loving him once more.
Before the glass doors stands me, the striking Hawke Enterprises emblem shining in the sunlight. From the girl I once was—innocent, hopeful, trusting—the reflection peering back at me is alien. No, the woman staring at me now is scared, tough, and a survivor. Too much effort has gone toward being anything else.
The doors open automatically, and with every stride, my heels click across the marble floor, resonating across the building's magnificent foyer. Though I rarely notice, the glass walls give a clear view of the vast city. Already, my thoughts are on him—the man who destroyed my life—the one whose every breath reminds me of my downfall.
I am here primarily for one thing—revenge.
That will be more difficult than I had anticipated, though. I sense the weight of the past slamming down as soon as I enter the elevator. The familiar smell of his office—leather, expensive cologne, and power—fills my senses, quickens my pulse, and twists my stomach. I am not breathing.
I close my eyes, straighten myself, and will my hands stop shaking. I know the right thing to do. Not this time; I cannot allow my feelings to dictate to me. I'm in command this time.
The elevator doors slide open, and as I step out, my breath freezes in my throat.
Then I started to see him.
Damian Hawke.
Sitting behind a large desk, he is a flawless silhouette in a custom suit. For a moment, my body betrays me—his broad shoulders and dark, penetrating eyes precisely as I recall them. My pulse beats and my heart pauses as a tsunami of memories floods my brain. I drove them all away, though. I'm not here to once more get lost in him. Here I am to demolish him.
Unspoken anxiety buzzes in the air between us. His vision narrows, and for the first time in years I see the familiar flutter of recognition—the knowledge he recognizes me. And in spite of this, I get a tiny surge of something I despise myself for—desire.
"Evelyn," he says, his voice low and commanding, exactly as I recall. "I expected nothing from you."
I try to hide the bitter edge of my voice and say, "No one ever does." But right now I am here.
His eyes darted over me to evaluate. Though it still burns between us, the years of wrath, treachery, and pain that have molded us both smother the flames. I will keep myself from letting him see the way my heart is betraying me. I will myself hold his stare.
He moves toward the chair in front of his desk, "Have a seat." "What can I do for Evelyn?"
I inhale deeply and settle, not looking back. "I want a job," I say straightforwardly. "Here. at Hawke Enterprises.
Clearly startled, he arches an eyebrow. You really are serious?
"I'm quite serious."
His lips open to a knowing smile, as if he already solved me. And why would you want to work for me with all that transpired between us?
I give him a tight-lipped smile and slant forward slightly, the heat growing between us. "You and I both know others have suffered as well, not just you. But I have progressed. For past wounds, I am not here. Here I am to pick what is mine.
Leaning back in his chair, he studies me with an unreadable look. And just what precisely is that, Evelyn?
"I want you to regret everything you did to me," I say, my voice steely, slicing across the air like a sword.
His confident façade breaks the first time. Behind his eyes, I can glimpse something—probably guilt. He looks at me for a long time; the tension between us is practically intolerable, then he says.
"You believe that working here would damage me?" His voice low, almost a whisper, he asks. "You think you could cause me to experience what you experienced when I destroyed you?"
I hesitate at all." I do not only believe this. I am aware of that.
I found my spot in Hawke Enterprises not long after. I give my work the zeal I have never experienced before. Still, the spreadsheets, the meetings, the deals—none of which keep me awake at night. That's him.
Damon permeates everything—his voice, his touch, his presence. Every time I hear his footsteps or feel his eyes fixed on me, I am reminded of the suffering he brought about. Not enough, though, to break me. I have lived after breaking once. I won't go on a trip this time.
But the more I stay, the more I see that getting even is more complicated than I had assumed. Not the same man I used to know Damon is. He's more dangerous and colder. Every time I look into his eyes, he still shows the same fire burning between us. He observes me with an intensity that causes my pulse to rush.
And even if I detest it, it attracts me toward him.
Still, I cannot let myself overlook what he did to me. I refuse to let myself once more fall for him.
Damon and I have an obvious conflict. Every conference and every conversation is a struggle of wills. Then it happened—one night, just following a demanding day of meetings, he drew me into his office, his face strained with annoyance.
His voice was gravel. "I know what you're doing, Evelyn." "You pretend you don't care or that you don't want me, so you may destroy me. You are wrong, though.
I try to distance myself, but his hand closes around my wrist and stops me. "Let go of me, Damon."
"No," he says, snarling. "You wanted retribution, but you're really asking for something else."
Heat permeates the air between us, and despite all the warnings in my thoughts, I find myself approaching him. As his grasp releases, my pulse thunders in my ears, and his hand travels down to my waist, dragging me in. His lips hang perilously near me.
He breathes and says, "I never stopped wanting you, Evelyn. And you haven't either, either.
Before I could say anything, he closed the distance between us and kissed me. I open my mouth to object, to drive him away.
And the earth pauses.
The door opens, and a loud voice interrupts us as the kiss deepens.
"You consider me to not know?" From the doorway, the voice of a lady sings.
I stopped the cold. She then comes into view.
The ex-wife of Damon.