The photo haunted her.
Lila stared at it on her laptop screen, the rooftop garden frozen in perfect detail. Damian stood close to her in the photo, his face turned slightly toward hers, as if caught in a moment of quiet intensity. The composition wasn't accidental; it was deliberate, almost predatory. Whoever had taken it wanted her to know they were watching—closely.
She shut her laptop with a sharp snap, her hands trembling. For the first time since she'd taken the job, she felt the weight of something dark and dangerous surrounding her.
---
The next morning, she arrived at Blackwood Enterprises early. The office was eerily quiet, save for the hum of the air conditioning. Lila settled into her desk, her coffee untouched, and stared at the glass wall of Damian's office.
She knew she had to confront him, but how? What would she even say? Would he dismiss her concerns? Or worse, would he confirm them?
As if summoned by her thoughts, Damian arrived moments later. He walked through the office with his usual air of authority, his long strides purposeful. His suit, as always, was perfectly tailored, and the silver of his tie caught the morning light.
"Good morning, Ms. Hart," he said as he passed her desk, his voice smooth.
"Good morning, Mr. Blackwood," she replied, her tone steady despite the turmoil churning inside her.
He glanced at her, pausing for a brief second. "Is everything all right?"
She hesitated, her words catching in her throat. "I—"
Before she could answer, his phone buzzed, and he gestured toward his office. "We'll talk later."
And just like that, he was gone.
---
By mid-morning, Lila couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed the notes and her laptop, marched to Damian's office, and knocked firmly on the glass door.
"Come in," he said, his tone distracted.
She stepped inside, her pulse racing. Damian looked up from his desk, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto hers.
"Ms. Hart," he said, setting down his pen. "What's on your mind?"
She hesitated, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. Then, summoning her courage, she placed the notes and her laptop on his desk.
"I've been getting these," she said. "And I think you need to see them."
Damian's expression didn't change as he picked up the notes, his eyes scanning the words. His jaw tightened slightly, but otherwise, he remained calm.
"Who sent these?" he asked, his voice low and measured.
"I don't know," Lila admitted. "The notes were left at my apartment, and the email came from an anonymous address. But whoever it is, they're watching us."
She opened her laptop and showed him the photo. Damian leaned forward, his gaze narrowing as he studied the image.
"Do you recognize this perspective?" she asked. "It looks like it was taken from another building."
Damian didn't answer immediately. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin. When he finally spoke, his voice was dangerously calm.
"This isn't random," he said. "Someone is trying to send a message."
"To you or to me?" Lila asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Both," Damian replied. "But the question is: why?"
---
The rest of the day was a blur. Lila couldn't focus on her work, her thoughts consumed by the notes and the photo. Damian, on the other hand, seemed unaffected. He moved through meetings and phone calls with his usual precision, but there was a tension in his movements that hadn't been there before.
By late afternoon, Damian appeared at her desk again.
"Come with me," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Where are we going?" she asked, standing up.
"Somewhere we can talk."
---
They ended up at a private restaurant in the city, one of those exclusive places where the lighting was dim, and the air hummed with quiet sophistication. Damian led her to a secluded booth in the back, away from the other patrons.
As they sat down, Lila couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.
"Relax," Damian said, his voice softer than usual. "You're safe here."
She looked at him, searching his face for any sign of reassurance. "Are you sure? Because it doesn't feel like it."
Damian leaned forward, his gaze intense. "I know this is overwhelming, but I need you to trust me."
"Trust you?" Lila asked, her voice rising slightly. "Damian, someone is stalking us. They've been to my apartment. They know where I live. And all I get from you is cryptic answers and a dinner reservation."
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might snap. But instead, he reached across the table and took her hand, his touch surprisingly gentle.
"Lila," he said, his voice low. "I will protect you. Whoever is behind this, they're trying to get to me. But I won't let them hurt you."
She wanted to believe him, but doubt lingered in the back of her mind. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because I've dealt with threats like this before," Damian said. "This isn't the first time someone has tried to undermine me."
His words sent a chill through her. "What kind of threats?"
He hesitated, his gaze flickering away for the briefest moment. "Let's just say that in my line of work, enemies are inevitable."
Lila pulled her hand back, the weight of his words sinking in. "What aren't you telling me?"
Damian met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "Some things are better left unsaid."
---
That night, when Lila returned to her apartment, she found the package on her doorstep.
Her heart sank as she picked it up, her hands trembling. She knew, even before opening it, that it wasn't a friendly delivery.
Inside was the black envelope.
She opened it slowly, her pulse racing.
The card inside was simple, with bold white letters that read:
"This is your final warning."
And underneath, scrawled in red ink:
"Stay away from Damian Blackwood."
Lila dropped the card, her breath coming in short gasps. She backed away from the package, her mind spinning.
She grabbed her phone and dialed Damian's number. He answered on the second ring.
"Lila?" he said, his tone sharp. "What's wrong?"
"I got another message," she whispered. "This one… it was a warning."
"Stay where you are," Damian ordered. "I'm coming to you."
Lila hung up, her eyes darting around her apartment. The shadows seemed darker, the silence heavier.
When Damian arrived twenty minutes later, his presence filled the room with an air of authority. He examined the card, his expression grim.
"This isn't just a warning," he said. "It's a declaration."
"A declaration of what?" Lila asked, her voice shaking.
Damian looked at her, his gray eyes like steel. "War."