A Morning of Reflection
The soft hum of Lana’s phone vibrating against the nightstand jolted her awake. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim glow of dawn filtering through her curtains. For a moment, she lay still, allowing the heaviness of sleep to dissolve. The events of yesterday replayed in her mind her unexpected defense of Wolfe Corporation, Damian’s cryptic challenge, and, most unsettling of all, the anonymous email warning her to leave. Her phone vibrated again. With a sigh, she reached for it. A new message. Unknown Sender: This is your final warning. Get out. A slow chill spread through her veins, but she refused to let fear take hold. Whoever this is, they don’t know who they’re dealing with. Isla Sinclair had survived far worse. Pushing the unease aside, she swung her legs over the bed and stood. The air was crisp against her skin as she padded into the bathroom. The mirror reflected a composed woman, but she knew the storm brewing beneath her exterior. Turning on the shower, she let the steaming water soothe her muscles. As she washed, she planned her next move. She had planted the first seed of sabotage last night a small but calculated disruption to one of Damian’s most lucrative deals. It was nothing too destructive, just enough to cause a stir. The game had begun, and she intended to win. After dressing in a deep navy blouse and a fitted black pencil skirt, she pulled her hair into a sleek ponytail. Her sharp heels echoed against the wooden floor as she walked into her tiny kitchen, pouring herself a cup of black coffee. She took a slow sip, savoring the moment. Let’s see how the great Damian Wolfe handles this. The Storm at Wolfe Corporation By the time she arrived at Wolfe Corporation, tension was already thick in the air. The moment she stepped into the sleek lobby, she noticed the shift employees whispering, fingers typing furiously on keyboards, nervous glances exchanged. Something had happened. Lana didn’t let her expression falter as she approached the elevator. The usual stares followed her, but this time, there was something different respect. Whispers of her performance in the meeting had spread. Damian’s assistant wasn’t just another disposable employee. She had proven herself. As she stepped onto the executive floor, she was met by Valerie’s sharp gaze. The older woman raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “Wolfe is waiting for you,” she said, her voice clipped. Lana nodded and made her way to Damian’s office, her heels clicking with deliberate confidence. She barely had time to knock before his voice rang out. “Get in here.” She pushed open the heavy doors, her gaze meeting Damian’s stormy eyes. He was leaning against his desk, a phone in one hand, a glass of whiskey in the other. Not a good sign. “Something wrong?” she asked smoothly. His jaw tightened as he tossed his phone onto the desk. “Dawson Enterprises just pulled out of our deal,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “A deal worth billions.” Lana feigned concern. “That’s… unexpected.” “Is it?” His piercing gaze locked onto her. “Or is it calculated?” Her stomach clenched. Is he onto me already? She gave him an innocent tilt of her head. “What are you implying?” Damian studied her for a long moment, then exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Nothing. Yet.” She kept her expression carefully neutral as he straightened, placing his glass down. “I need you to fix it,” he said. Lana arched a brow. “Fix a billion-dollar deal that’s already dead?” “Yes.” His tone was cold, unwavering. “Find out why they pulled out. Who’s behind it. And bring me a solution.” She hesitated, pretending to consider. “And if I do?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Then I might start seeing you as something other than a replaceable employee.” Lana folded her arms. “And if I fail?” Damian leaned in slightly, his presence suffocating. “Then you’re out.” The Game Within the Game Lana spent the next few hours gathering information, carefully manipulating conversations, planting seeds of doubt. She made calls, spoke with key employees, and pieced together a fabricated version of events. By noon, she had what she needed. She stepped into Damian’s office, dropping a file onto his desk. “They didn’t pull out because of us,” she said. He looked up, skeptical. “Oh?” “They pulled out because they were given false information.” She leaned forward. “Someone told them that Wolfe Corporation was on the verge of a financial collapse. That a scandal was about to erupt.” Damian’s eyes darkened. “Who?” Lana shrugged. “The rumor came from an anonymous source. But if I had to guess…” She trailed off, letting the suspense build. He exhaled sharply. “Calloway.” She didn’t correct him. She didn’t have to. Damian’s fury was palpable. He stood, adjusting his cuffs. “Then we make them regret it.” Lana allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. Exactly as planned. Cliffhanger: The First Crack in the Mask As the day wound down, Lana sat at her desk, reviewing the latest reports. She had played her part perfectly. The sabotage was minor, just enough to create chaos without exposing herself. But Damian Wolfe was not a man to be fooled easily. Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen. Unknown Number: I know what you did. Her blood ran cold. She turned, and for the first time, her heart stuttered. Damian was standing in his office, watching her. And he was smiling. Not the usual smirk. Not the cold amusement. But something deeper. Something dangerous. The game had truly begun.Damian’s POVThe first time Damian Wolfe laid eyes on Lana Grey, something had felt… off.She had walked into his office with quiet confidence, her expression cool but not submissive. Most new employees shrank under his scrutiny, eager to please, desperate to stay in his good graces. But not her.Her sharp eyes had met his without hesitation, without fear. He should have dismissed her right then and there.Yet, something about her had intrigued him.At first, he had assumed it was just physical attraction. Damian wasn’t blind Lana was stunning in an understated way, the kind of beauty that didn’t scream for attention but captured it nonetheless. Dark waves of hair pulled into a neat ponytail, flawless skin, sharp cheekbones that softened just enough to give her an air of mystery. And those eyes dark, calculating, as if she was always one step ahead of him.She was beautiful. But that wasn’t why she lingered in his mind.It was the way she carried herself.The way she met his impossibl
Lana’s POV Lana’s breath hitched as she turned toward the voice that had just shattered her carefully constructed world. “You look… familiar,” the man in white tuxedo murmured, his wrinkled gray-blue eyes narrowing in suspicion but from under the ballroom warm light, it looked haughty. Lana’s pulse pounded. She had prepared for this moment, knowing that one day, someone from her past might recognize her. But she hadn’t expected it to happen here, at a high-profile gala, with Damian Wolfe the person responsible for all these standing mere inches away. She forced a smile. “I think you’re mistaken.” The man hesitated, scanning Lana’s face as if searching for something buried in her memory. Before he could press further, a smooth voice cut through the tension. “There you are.” Lana turned, and her body tensed at the sight of Victor Lancaster—one of Damian’s biggest rivals—walking toward her with an easy, confident smirk. Victor reached for her hand and, to her surprise, pressed a
The air in the grand ballroom felt heavier than before. It wasn’t the champagne or the way the chandeliers glowed against the high ceilings—it was him. Damian Wolfe. A man whose presence was as commanding as his reputation, and right now, he was standing at the bar with a woman Lana had never seen before.A tall, stunning woman, draped in a crimson dress that hugged her curves like it had been made for her. She moved with the kind of confidence that came from knowing she was desired, her manicured fingers trailing along Damian’s exposed collarbone as she leaned in, whispering something into his ear.Lana clenched her hands into fists, willing herself to look away. It’s none of your business. But her traitorous gaze stayed locked on them.She had never seen him this… receptive. Sure, Damian was always cold, always unreadable, but something about this woman seemed to loosen his edges like she had once been something more.Lana exhaled sharply and turned on her heel. She didn’t care. She
Lana’s mind was a mess. The taste of Damian Wolfe was still on her lips, a reminder of the mistake she had just made. A mistake that shouldn’t have felt so… intoxicating. Damian hadn’t moved. His jaw was tense, his eyes locked onto Victoria as if he was calculating his next move. But Lana could feel the heat of his body, the intensity of the moment still lingering between them. Victoria Monroe smiled, tilting her glass as if she had just caught something far more entertaining than expected. “Well,” she mused, taking a slow sip of her wine. “That was unexpected. But then again, you always did have a way of complicating things, Damian.” Lana swallowed, her heart hammering. Damian exhaled sharply, stepping back. The loss of his warmth sent an unsettling shiver down her spine. “This doesn’t concern you, Victoria,” he said, his voice dangerously low. Victoria chuckled. “Oh, but it does. Because the last time you let someone get too close, it didn’t end well for them.” Lana
Damian’s POVThe private jet landed smoothly, its engines humming as the sleek aircraft came to a stop. Damian stood near the black SUV, hands in his pockets, his usual composed demeanor in place.Then, Lilith Wolfe descended the steps.Her tailored emerald-green pantsuit fit her like a second skin, exuding power and control. The sharp bob framed her regal face, her red lips curving into a knowing smile.“My darling nephew,” she purred, stopping in front of him. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to pick me up.”“I wanted to,” Damian replied smoothly, taking her carry-on. “It’s been two years.”Lilith sighed dramatically. “South Africa was draining. But I’m back now, and we have much to discuss.”He led her toward the car, his mind drifting to the business empire he had built—one she had guided him through. She had been the one who encouraged him to buy Sinclair Enterprises. She had always known best.Why would he ever doubt her?Lana’s POV –Lana had no business snooping.But
Lilith Wolfe’s POVThe moment she opened the door, her eyes met a young woman standing in front of her, holding a file in one hand, the other clenched at her side. Lilith took her in quickly. Dark hair cascading in loose waves, a sleek black blouse tucked into an ivory pencil skirt that hugged her curves, and a poised yet guarded expression.Lilith narrowed her eyes. There was something… familiar. Not her face no, she had never met her before. But the way she held herself, that look in her eyes. It tickled a distant memory, but before she could place it, Damian appeared behind her.“Lana, you took your time,” he said, stepping forward to take the file from her.Lana didn’t respond right away. She was staring at Lilith. Her fingers trembled slightly before she quickly masked it, forcing a smile.“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Wolfe.”Lilith tilted her head, scrutinizing the girl. That voice… something about her was wrong.“Likewise, dear,” Lilith said smoothly, her lips curling int
Lana’s POV The taste of him still lingered on her lips. No matter how much she tried to shake it off, the memory of last night burned through her like fire licking at dry wood. The way Damian’s hands had gripped her, strong and possessive, the way his lips had crashed against hers with raw hunger—like he was staking a claim. Lana squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling deeply as she pressed her fingers to her lips. She could still feel the heat of his body against hers, the way he had pressed her against the cool glass, the firm stroke of his fingers exploring her waist, her thighs, the slow, torturous graze of his thumb— She sat up abruptly, shaking her head. What the hell is wrong with me? Her mind shouldn’t be fixated on a kiss, not when she had bigger things to worry about. Like the truth. Like him. And then, there was her brother. A sharp pang of grief clenched at her chest, and she curled her fingers into the sheets, her breathing suddenly uneven. She had dreamed about him ag
The jet touched down smoothly on the private runway, the city stretching out in a golden haze beyond the glass. Even at midnight, Los Angeles pulsed with life—neon lights flickering in the distance, sleek black cars gliding through the streets, and the faint hum of sirens in the far-off background. The air was thick with warmth, a lingering heat from the day, carrying the scent of asphalt and luxury. It had been two weeks since the whole kissing incident and cafe incident. She still hadn’t gotten any feedback from Trisha. Damian had informed her of a business trip they had to take for a business meeting in Los Angeles. Damian barely spoke as they descended the steps of the aircraft, his phone in hand, thumb gliding over messages. His presence remained commanding even in silence, his tailored black shirt unbuttoned at the top, the fabric clinging to his broad frame effortlessly. A private car awaited them. Lana slid into the leather seat beside him, her body still buzzing from exh
“I think you should leave him,” Lana said, grabbing Damian’s hand, her fingers curling tightly around his wrist as if trying to anchor him before he could explode again. But it was too late. The chaos from earlier still clung to them like smoke. What was meant to be a simple movie night had turned into a mess—a disaster, really. They had barely settled into their seats at the cinema, trying to enjoy Love the Drum by Doones, when the situation spiraled. Lana had just reached for her popcorn when an overly bold stranger leaned in too close, his fingers brushing hers under the guise of accidental contact. She hadn’t even fully processed what happened when Damian stood, cold rage flashing in his eyes. The next thing she saw was his fist connecting with the guy’s jaw, hard and merciless. People had gasped, security rushed in, and the entire moment collapsed into chaos. Now, they were seated in a dim booth at Iraq Pacts, the low hum of conversations and clinking glasses offering som
“You better hurry,” he said with a smirk, his gaze dragging over me in that arrogant way that made my skin prickle. I bit my tongue, swallowing the sharp retort on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I folded my arms and lifted a brow. “Oh well, I can’t dress up with you watching me.” Damian leaned against the doorframe, completely unfazed. “Okay then. I guess we’ll be here all night, because I have no plans of turning around or going to the sitting room. It’s boring there. I’d rather stay here.” I sucked in a slow breath, realizing he was dead serious. He really wasn’t going anywhere. He wanted me to— “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” His voice was smooth, teasing, laced with something that made my pulse tick faster. I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, so that’s what this is about?” He shrugged, that damned smirk never leaving his face. “Oh yeah.” For some stupid reason, maybe frustration, maybe defiance, I let out a quiet breath and let the towel in my hand drop. I barely re
Lana forced herself to breathe as she settled back into her chair, her fingers curling slightly against the smooth surface of her desk. Damian’s words still echoed in her mind—We have a long day ahead of us. He had said it with that usual commanding tone, the one that left no room for arguments. And she hadn’t argued. Instead, she had done the only thing she could—walked out of his office, shut the door behind her, and returned to her assistant’s desk, as if nothing had just happened between them. But now, alone with her thoughts, the problem remained. I can’t take him to Trisha’s place. That’s impossible. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. There was no way she could let Damian meet Trisha—not when Trisha knew her secret, not when she was the only one who had helped her weave the web of lies she now lived in. He couldn’t meet Trisha, not now, not ever. But then there was Zito Whitehawk The name sent a shiver through her as she leaned back in her chair, staring blankly at her l
The air was thick, charged with something dangerous, something exhilarating. Damian’s lips were on hers, his grip firm yet intoxicating. The world outside his office didn’t exist, only the heat, the tension, the way his body pressed into hers. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, hungry, lost. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. She was supposed to leave, to put distance between them. But here she was, melting under his touch, tilting her head back as his lips traveled down the column of her throat. A sharp voice from outside the office snapped reality back into place. “I own this place too, you know! You have no idea who I am, i will have you fired so move.”“Ma’am the boss wasn’t expecting you”A small voice pleaded from outside. Lana’s stomach dropped. Someone was coming. The door flung open just as Damian straightened, his expression a mix of irritation and forced composure. Lana, still breathless, tried to push past the mortifying reality o
“Please… let me go.” Adrian’s voice was hoarse, raw from months of pleading. His throat burned, his lips cracked and dry. The damp air of the room clung to his skin, thick with the stench of urine, blood, and something rotting. A shadow moved before him. He couldn’t see it—his eyes were covered—but he felt its presence, looming, suffocating. A sharp click. The unmistakable sound of a camera shutter. “No, no, no—what are you doing?” Adrian thrashed against the restraints, the metal biting deeper into his skin. His wrists were torn, his ankles swollen. He tried to jerk away, but the rough sack over his head scratched against his bruised face, suffocating him further. A deep, amused chuckle filled the room. “I’m not the one you should beg,” the man said. Adrian’s chest tightened. The voice was cold, detached, yet oddly entertained. “Is it Lilith?” His voice cracked. “You people have taken everything from me.” “Not everything.” The words sent a chill through him. He cle
The air was thick with the stench of damp stone and decay. Adrian Sinclair lay on the cold concrete floor, his wrists raw from the tight metal cuffs that bound him. The dim light flickered overhead, barely illuminating the cramped space he had been thrown into. His head ached, his body stiff from weeks—months?—of confinement. He had lost track of time. The only sounds were the distant dripping of water and the occasional shuffle of footsteps beyond the iron door. The place smelled of mold, of unwashed bodies, of something metallic—blood, maybe. His own, or someone else’s, he wasn’t sure. He exhaled sharply, shifting slightly. Pain lanced through his ribs. Probably bruised, if not broken. A reminder of the last time they had come for him. They never spoke much, his captors. Only orders, only demands. “Eat.” “Stay still.” “Talk.” But Adrian had learned long ago that silence was his greatest weapon. If they wanted him to break, they would have to work harder. A scrape echoed th
The sunlight crept into Lana’s room, stretching its golden fingers across the sheets, warming her skin before she even opened her eyes. She inhaled deeply, feeling the slight stiffness in her limbs as she stretched, arching her back like a lazy cat before rolling onto her side. The world outside was already awake—cars honking, people shouting, the distant hum of life moving on. She lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, then shifted her gaze to the window. The glass was slightly fogged, the early morning air still cool from the night. She could see the city outside—buildings stretching high, endless roads weaving through them like veins. With a sigh, she threw the covers off and sat up, pressing her feet against the cold floor. The morning routine began. She dragged herself to the bathroom, flicking on the light as she examined herself in the mirror. Messy hair, sleep-heavy eyes, lips slightly parted from the remnants of dreams. She ran a hand over her face, then reached
Victor Lanchester gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, his knuckles whitening under the dim glow of the dashboard lights. The city buzzed around him, neon signs flashing against the wet pavement as he cut through traffic, barely paying attention to the cars he was weaving past.That bastard.His jaw clenched at the thought of Damian Wolfe, the golden boy, the man who had everything—the money, the power, the untouchable reputation. And now, Lana Grey.Victor scoffed.Damian might think he owns her, but no woman—especially not one like Lana—could ever be fully claimed.And he was going to prove it.The memory of that humiliating fight outside Super Mario still burned in his mind. He had been caught off guard, sure, but that wasn’t going to happen again. Damian had made a fool of him, in public no less, and Victor had never been one to forgive or forget.He took a sharp turn, the tires screeching slightly against the asphalt, his lips curling in a smirk.She was the key.La
The vibration of Damian’s phone cut through the thick tension in the air. The sound was sharp, insistent, like an unwanted chaperone barging into a moment that was dangerously close to unraveling into something reckless.Lana’s breath was still uneven, her body betraying the control she tried so hard to maintain. His palm, warm and firm, still rested on her thigh, his fingers barely grazing the hem of her shorts. He didn’t move to answer the call immediately. Instead, his gaze held hers—heavy, smoldering, unreadable.“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Her voice was quiet but steady, though inside, she was anything but.Damian exhaled sharply, clearly irritated at the interruption. He pulled his phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and then, with visible reluctance, answered.“What?” His tone was clipped, his fingers tapping absently against her skin as if he’d forgotten they were still there.Lana sat frozen, trying to push past the lingering heat between them, but she couldn