Damien Storm walked through the halls of his company with the air of a king surveying his domain. The light-hearted chatter among employees was like nails on a chalkboard to him.
He paused outside the wellness lounge, his sharp gaze piercing through the glass door. Inside, the employees sat in a loose circle, relaxed and laughing as Serena Bennett stood in the middle, facilitating yet another "useless" session.
His jaw clenched. He'd wanted to scrap this entire wellness program—cut the expenses and regain control—but here it was, thriving. Worse, his employees seemed… happy.
Damien's arrival was announced by the distinct tap of his leather shoes against the polished floor. The moment he entered, the air in the room shifted. Conversations stopped mid-sentence, and the employees stiffened like children caught misbehaving.
Serena turned, her calm smile unwavering despite the storm brewing in his eyes.
"Mr. Storm," she greeted, as though his sudden appearance was completely normal.
"Miss Bennett," he said, his tone ice-cold. "Am I interrupting a comedy show?"
A few nervous chuckles rippled through the room, quickly silenced by Damien's sharp glare.
"No," Serena replied smoothly, her eyes locking with his. "Just a conversation about team dynamics. Would you like to join us?"
"I prefer results over discussions," Damien snapped, ignoring the tension that filled the room. He turned to his employees. "And speaking of results, isn't there work you should be doing?"
The group scattered, hastily excusing themselves.
Only Serena remained, standing her ground as Damien loomed over her.
"You have an interesting way of managing people, Miss Bennett," he said. "Too soft. Too idealistic."
"And yet, it's working," Serena replied, her voice steady.
Damien's lips curved into a humorless smile. "Don't flatter yourself. This… facade of happiness won't last."
---
Later that day, Damien found himself pacing in his office. Despite his best efforts to dismiss Serena's impact, he couldn't ignore the noticeable changes in his employees. Their productivity was up. Deadlines were being met without him having to breathe down their necks.
But what irked him most was the memory of her standing there, unshaken by his words.
The intercom buzzed. Clara's voice broke his thoughts. "Miss Bennett left her report for you, sir."
"Send it in," Damien said curtly.
The folder was placed on his desk minutes later, its neat presentation almost mocking him. He flipped through the pages, skimming over phrases like "team cohesion" and "stress reduction."
At the bottom of the page, Serena had handwritten a note:
"Progress isn't about control. Sometimes, letting go achieves more."
Damien crumpled the page in his hand.
---
The following morning, Damien walked into the wellness lounge unannounced. Once again, the employees fell silent, their cheerful mood evaporating at his presence.
But what caught his attention was Serena. She was speaking with a man, one of the new marketing hires. The man laughed at something she said, leaning slightly closer than Damien deemed appropriate.
An unfamiliar heat flared in Damien's chest. He clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening as he watched the interaction.
"What's so funny?" he said abruptly, his voice cutting through the room like a whip.
The man straightened immediately, stammering an excuse before scurrying away.
Serena raised an eyebrow, her expression amused. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Mr. Storm."
Damien scoffed. "Jealousy? Don't flatter yourself. I simply don't tolerate unprofessional behavior in my company."
Serena's smile deepened. "Of course, Mr. Storm."
But as Damien stormed out of the room, her words lingered in his mind.
Was it jealousy?
---