The note sat on her coffee table, its stark words staring back at her like an accusation. "How well do you know Damian Blackwood?"
Lila paced her small apartment, her bare feet tapping softly against the worn wooden floor. She thought back to the last few days, replaying every interaction she'd had with Damian. His confidence, his sharp words, the way he studied her like he could see past her polished exterior. And now this—another note, another question gnawing at her peace of mind.
She opened her laptop again, typing Damian Blackwood's name into the search bar for the second time that night. The results painted a picture of a man who was powerful, brilliant, and untouchable. Article after article praised his strategic mind and ability to dominate any market he set his sights on. But there was no mention of his personal life.
She frowned, digging deeper. There had to be something—a crack in his perfect façade. A few obscure blogs hinted at shady business dealings and mysterious rivalries, but there was no proof. Every potential scandal had been expertly buried.
Her phone buzzed on the table, making her jump. She snatched it up, her breath catching when she saw the message:
"Did you get my message?"
It was from an unknown number.
Her fingers trembled as she typed back, Who is this?
The reply came almost instantly.
"Someone who's trying to save you."
Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. She stared at the screen, unsure of how to respond. Before she could type anything, the three dots indicating the sender was typing appeared, then disappeared.
Silence.
Lila locked her phone and tossed it onto the couch. She rubbed her temples, willing herself to calm down. This job was supposed to be her big break—a chance to prove herself and build a future. But now she felt like a pawn in a game she didn't understand.
---
The next morning, Lila arrived at Blackwood Enterprises earlier than usual. The office was quiet, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly as she made her way to her desk. She dropped her bag and sat down, opening her email to begin the day.
But her focus wavered. She kept glancing at Damian's office, the glass walls revealing a perfectly organized space that seemed too calm, too controlled.
When Damian finally arrived, his presence seemed to fill the entire room. He moved with an air of purpose, his sharp gray suit tailored to perfection. Lila watched as he entered his office, his phone already pressed to his ear.
She tried to focus on her work, but snippets of his conversation drifted through the open door.
"Find out who's behind this," Damian said, his voice low and firm. "And make it go away."
Lila's stomach tightened. She leaned back in her chair, pretending to scroll through her computer screen as her ears strained to catch more of his words.
"There's no room for mistakes," he continued. "Handle it quietly. I don't want this coming back to me."
The chair inside his office scraped against the floor, and Lila quickly turned her attention back to her screen. Moments later, Damian stepped out, his gaze immediately landing on her.
"Ms. Hart," he said, his tone as smooth as always. "Do you have the Westfield contracts ready?"
"Yes," she stammered, reaching for the files on her desk. "All set for your review."
"Good. Bring them into my office."
Lila followed him, her heart pounding. She placed the documents on his desk, feeling the weight of his sharp gaze as she straightened up.
"Is there something on your mind, Ms. Hart?" Damian asked, his voice calm but probing.
She hesitated, the words Who were you talking to? What's going on? dancing on the tip of her tongue. But the memory of the note and the text stopped her.
"No," she said finally. "Nothing at all."
He studied her for a moment longer, then nodded. "That will be all."
---
By mid-afternoon, Damian appeared at her desk again.
"Walk with me," he said without preamble, already heading toward the elevators.
Lila blinked, then hurried after him. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
They stepped into the elevator, and Damian pressed the button for the top floor. Lila's stomach did a nervous flip.
When the doors opened, she stepped into a private rooftop garden. The city skyline stretched out before her, dazzling and infinite.
"What is this place?" she asked, her voice filled with awe.
"My sanctuary," Damian replied, his tone softer than she'd ever heard. "When the chaos gets too loud, I come here."
Lila turned to him, surprised. "You don't seem like the type who lets chaos get to him."
He smirked. "Appearances can be deceiving, Ms. Hart."
They stood in silence for a moment, the wind tugging at her hair. She watched him closely, noticing the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders seemed heavier than usual.
"Damian," she said quietly, "do you ever feel like someone's watching you?"
His expression didn't change, but his gaze sharpened. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," she said quickly. "Just... something I've been thinking about."
He turned to face her fully, his eyes locking onto hers. "If someone's bothering you, I need to know about it."
Lila hesitated, her hand instinctively going to her pocket where the latest note was folded. She wanted to tell him, but something held her back.
"I'm fine," she said instead.
Damian didn't look convinced, but he let it go.
---
That night, Lila returned to her apartment feeling more conflicted than ever. Damian was an enigma—a man who could be cold and ruthless one moment and unexpectedly vulnerable the next.
She pulled out the note again, reading it over and over. "How well do you know Damian Blackwood?"
The truth was, she didn't know him at all.
As she placed the note back on the table, her phone buzzed. She picked it up, expecting another message from the unknown number.
But it wasn't a text. It was an email.
The subject line read: "For your eyes only."
With trembling fingers, Lila opened it. The email contained a single sentence:
"Stay away from him, or you'll regret it."
Attached was a photo.
It was of Damian, standing on the rooftop garden earlier that day—with Lila by his side.