The cold December wind bit at Lila's cheeks as she hurried through the streets of Manhattan, her coffee warming her hands through the cup's thin cardboard. She glanced up at the Blackwood Enterprises building, its glass exterior reflecting the pale morning sunlight. For all its polished beauty, it felt like a fortress—cold, unyielding, and impenetrable.
Her first day had left her both intrigued and exhausted. Damian Blackwood wasn't just a boss—he was a force of nature. His sharp gray eyes seemed to see everything, and his presence filled every room he entered. But there was something else about him, something beneath the surface she couldn't quite put her finger on.
The elevator ride to the top floor was quieter today, with fewer executives rushing in and out. Lila leaned against the mirrored wall, trying to center herself. "One day at a time," she muttered under her breath.
When the doors opened, she stepped into the outer office, offering a polite nod to Martha, who barely glanced up from her computer. Lila made her way to her small corner office and froze.
A sleek black envelope lay on her desk, out of place against the tidy surface.
Frowning, she set down her coffee and picked it up. Her name was written on the front in bold, angular handwriting she didn't recognize. Her pulse quickened as she tore it open, revealing a single piece of heavy cardstock inside.
"Stay away from him."
Her stomach flipped as she stared at the words. There was no signature, no indication of who had sent it. She looked around the room, half-expecting someone to step out of the shadows. But the office was empty, eerily silent except for the faint hum of the building's heating system.
Lila's first instinct was to march straight to Martha and demand answers, but she hesitated. What if this was some sort of test? Damian Blackwood didn't seem like the type to play games, but his world clearly operated on rules she didn't understand.
Taking a deep breath, she folded the note and slipped it into her bag. For now, she'd keep it to herself.
---
The morning passed in a blur of emails, scheduling updates, and reorganizing files. Lila tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting back to the note. Who would send something like that? And why?
She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear Damian approach until his voice cut through the silence.
"Ms. Hart."
She jumped, nearly spilling her coffee. "Yes, Mr. Blackwood?"
Damian stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. "Are you always this jumpy, or is it just around me?"
Heat rose to her cheeks. "Maybe if you didn't sneak up on people—"
"I wasn't sneaking," he interrupted, stepping into the room. "I need you to accompany me to a meeting downtown. Bring your tablet."
Lila blinked. "You want me to come with you?"
"Is that a problem?" His tone was neutral, but his eyes lingered on her face, as though trying to gauge her reaction.
"No, not at all," she said quickly, grabbing her bag.
---
The car ride was quiet, save for the soft hum of the engine. Damian sat beside her in the back seat, scrolling through his phone. Lila stole a glance at him, noting the slight tension in his jaw.
"You don't say much, do you?" she ventured.
His eyes flicked to hers. "I speak when there's something worth saying."
Lila frowned. "And yet, here we are, making small talk."
The corner of his mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Touché."
Before she could respond, his phone buzzed. He answered it, his voice dropping to a tone so cold it sent a shiver down her spine.
"I told you not to call this number," he said sharply. "Handle it, or I will."
Lila pretended not to hear, turning her attention to the window. But her mind raced. Who was on the other end of that call? And what could have Damian Blackwood so visibly irritated?
When he hung up, the silence in the car was almost suffocating. Lila wanted to ask about the call but thought better of it. Instead, she focused on the task at hand—whatever it was.
---
The meeting took place in a high-rise conference room with floor-to-ceiling windows. Damian introduced her to a group of well-dressed men and women, their conversations laced with jargon that flew over her head.
She took notes diligently, occasionally glancing at Damian as he navigated the discussion with ease. He was in his element here, commanding the room with a quiet authority that left no room for argument.
But as the meeting dragged on, Lila noticed something odd. One of the men—a sharp-featured executive with dark eyes—kept glancing at Damian, his expression wary. There was a tension between them that went beyond professional rivalry.
When the meeting ended, Damian exchanged a few quiet words with the man, his voice too low for Lila to hear. She caught the executive's response, though:
"This isn't over, Blackwood."
Damian's jaw tightened, but he said nothing as the man walked away.
---
Back in the car, the tension was palpable. Lila hesitated before speaking. "That guy—he didn't seem too happy with you."
Damian's gaze didn't waver from the window. "That's none of your concern."
"Right," she said, biting her lip. "Of course not."
They rode the rest of the way in silence, but Lila's mind was spinning. There was more to Damian Blackwood than met the eye, and she had a feeling she was only scratching the surface.
When they returned to the office, Lila found another note waiting for her. This one was even shorter than the first:
"You've been warned."
Her hands trembled as she read it. Whatever she'd gotten herself into, it was bigger than she'd realized.