The office was cold, the kind of cold that only the city's most expensive skyscrapers could hold. The polished floors gleamed under the artificial lights, and the hum of the air conditioner was the only sound filling the vast, sterile space. It felt as though the whole building was a monument to power his power. And now, she was a tiny, insignificant piece within it.

Isla Sinclair, now known as Lana Grey, took a deep breath as she stepped into the executive floor. The nerves in her stomach twisted like a knot, but she couldn't let them show. She had a mission, a purpose that no one here would understand, especially not Damian Wolfe. She had to remain calm, collected, and unbreakable.

She was no longer the innocent woman who'd been stripped of everything she'd known. No longer the heiress to a once-thriving empire. She was Lana Grey now, a name forged out of necessity, designed to keep her hidden from the world that had tried to erase her existence. And in this world, where wealth, power, and control reigned supreme, there was one man she had to defeat to take back what was hers.

Damian Wolfe.

She took a moment to adjust her black blazer, smoothing it down over the dress that she had carefully chosen dark, sleek, professional. She knew what she was up against. Men like him didn't respect weakness. They thrived on it. And she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing hers.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and she stepped out, glancing around at the imposing glass walls and the rows of workers typing away at their desks. Each one of them was a cog in the machine of Damian Wolfe's empire. She would soon be another cog, but this time, she'd be a cog with a purpose.

Lana walked past the reception desk, her heels clicking loudly in the silent space. The receptionist didn't even look up. No one did. They all knew who she was. They all knew she was just another assistant in a long line of assistants who would come and go.

But this was different. She wasn't just here to assist. She was here to ruin him.

At the end of the hall, the door to Damian's office was slightly ajar. She didn't knock. Instead, she stepped inside, her heart beating a little faster as she saw him for the first time in the flesh.

Damian Wolfe.

The man was everything she had imagined and more. Tall, with a chiseled jawline that looked like it could cut glass, and dark hair that was perfectly messy, as though he hadn't even bothered to try. His suit was dark, tailored to perfection, and his eyes cold, calculating never once lifted from the laptop screen in front of him.

"Mr. Wolfe," she said, her voice steady despite the nerves coursing through her.

His gaze flickered up, briefly scanning her before returning to the screen. "You're late."

Lana's breath hitched, but she quickly regained her composure. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

His eyes finally met hers, and she felt as though he was looking straight through her, as if she were nothing more than a pawn in his game. "We'll see about that. Sit."

She took a seat across from him, the silence stretching between them like a thick fog. Damian didn't say anything more, merely continued typing away at his laptop with practiced indifference. Lana clenched her fists under the desk, willing herself to stay calm.

She was here to do a job, nothing more. She wasn't going to let his cold demeanor affect her. Not when she was so close to everything she had ever wanted.

But just as she started to feel a semblance of control, Damian spoke again.

"Did you bring the report I asked for?"

Lana froze for a moment. Report? Her heart skipped a beat. She had been so focused on the task of getting in, of securing her position, that she hadn't even thought to prepare.

She fumbled through her bag, pulling out a folder. Her hand shook slightly as she placed it on the desk in front of him. "Here, sir."

Damian didn't look at it. He simply pushed it aside, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. "I don't need excuses. I need results. If you can't handle the basics, you're of no use to me."

Lana's breath caught in her throat. His words were like a slap to her face, but she kept her expression neutral. He had to underestimate her. It was part of the plan.

"I'll get the report to you by the end of the day," she said, her voice unwavering.

Damian's lips curled into a sneer, but it was brief, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. "You have until lunch. After that, you'll find yourself out of a job."

Lana didn't flinch, though the threat was clear. She knew this was just the beginning. He would test her, humiliate her, break her down. But she couldn't allow that to happen. She had a larger goal in mind.

A goal that didn't include serving his every whim.

Damian leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, his gaze never leaving her. "I'll be watching."

Lana stood up, her back straight. "I'll prove myself, Mr. Wolfe."

As she turned to leave, the weight of his gaze pressed on her, and a small, twisted part of her wondered if he knew—if he had already figured out that the woman sitting in his office was not the one he thought she was.

Would she break? Or would she fight back?

The elevator doors slid open again as she stepped inside, her mind racing. This was only the beginning. But she wouldn't let him win. Not when everything she had lost was within reach.

As the doors closed, Lana caught a glimpse of Damian's cold, calculating stare. She couldn't afford to be weak. And she couldn't afford to fall into his games. Not when the stakes were so high.

She had come to destroy him. And she would.