Chapter 1: The Contract

"Run."

The word echoed in my mind like a warning bell, but my feet remained rooted to the cold marble floor. My pulse thundered in my ears as my palms dampened with sweat. I should have never come here.

Yet, here I was—standing in the middle of a high-rise office, wrapped in silence so thick it felt suffocating. The air carried a scent of rich leather and something darker, something intangible but present. Behind the grand mahogany desk stretched a floor-to-ceiling glass wall, displaying the city’s glittering skyline like a living masterpiece. It felt like standing in a kingdom ruled by one man—the very man watching me with a predator’s patience.

Damien Reid.

The name alone carried weight. Feared in underground dealings, respected in elite business circles, and admired—perhaps foolishly—by those drawn to power. He was the type of man who spoke, and the world listened. Ruthless in negotiations. Unforgiving in retribution.

And now, for reasons I had yet to understand, I stood before him, caught in his crosshairs.

His fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk, the sound slow and deliberate. Each beat felt calculated, like he was measuring time before making his next move. Then, finally, he spoke.

“You don’t seem like the type to accept a job without knowing the details.” His voice was smooth, refined—deceptively calm, like a blade gliding across silk. “So tell me, why are you here?”

That was the question, wasn’t it?

How did I go from running my flower shop and occasionally managing Ivy’s business to standing in front of one of the most dangerous men in the corporate world? This wasn’t my world. And yet, here I was.

I folded my arms, trying to keep my stance firm. “That’s what I’d like to know, too.”

Damien smirked, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. “So you’re saying you signed a contract without reading it?”

“I didn’t sign anything.”

His expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze sharpened. Interest? Amusement? Or was he dissecting me, breaking me down piece by piece like a puzzle he had already solved?

Leaning back in his chair, his tailored suit molding perfectly against him, he studied me with a patience that felt far too dangerous.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Then how do you explain the employment record stating you work for me?”

My jaw tightened. That was the problem.

Someone had placed my name in his company’s system. Someone had fabricated documents linking me to him.

And the worst part?

I had no idea who did it.

Or why.

I kept my expression unreadable, my voice steady. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

Damien exhaled slowly, tapping a single key on his laptop. The screen flashed, revealing an employment file—with my name. My signature. My contract.

Except I had never signed it.

My stomach twisted. This wasn’t a mistake. This was deliberate.

And then Damien spoke a name that made my world tilt.

“Ivy sure knows how to pick interesting friends.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“Ivy?”

His lips curled in satisfaction. “Did she not tell you? She’s the reason you’re here.”

Something inside me snapped.

“Ivy sold me out?!”

Damien chuckled—actually chuckled. As if this was nothing more than an entertaining spectacle for him.

“Relax, princess. She didn’t sell you out.” His smirk deepened. “She gave you to me.”

I froze.

She what?

Damien stood, closing the distance between us with a few measured strides. He stopped just inches away, his presence overwhelming, his scent—something dark and intoxicating—curling into my senses like a warning.

“I needed someone sharp,” he murmured. “Quick. Capable of handling a mess.” He tilted his head slightly. “Ivy recommended you.”

I stared at him, my mind racing.

Ivy… recommended me?

It didn’t make sense. She had an entire team of professionals. Why me?

Unless—

Cold realization crept in.

Ivy wouldn’t throw me into the lion’s den without a reason.

Which meant she was in trouble.

And now, so was I.

I took a slow step back, forcing distance between us. “And if I refuse?”

Damien’s smirk widened, slow and sure, like he had already won.

“You won’t.”

I raised a brow. “Oh? And why’s that?”

His gaze locked onto mine.

“Because,” he said, voice smooth as silk and sharp as glass, “I think you’re just as curious as I am.”

Damn him.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

But one thing was clear—this wasn’t just about me anymore.

Whatever Ivy had gotten herself into, I was now a part of it.

And something told me Damien Reid was going to make sure I played along.

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The silence stretched between us, thick with tension. I searched his expression for any sign of deception, but Damien was unreadable. A man like him never showed his hand unless it was already too late.

“You seem to be taking this rather well,” he remarked, watching me closely.

I scoffed. “Trust me, I’m not.”

He leaned against his desk, arms crossing over his chest. “Then why haven’t you walked out?”

I swallowed. The answer was simple, yet impossible to admit. Because no matter how much I wanted to turn my back and leave, my instincts told me that walking away from Damien Reid wasn’t an option.

“Maybe I want answers,” I said instead.

His smirk widened. “Good. Because I have plenty.”

I hesitated. “And if I don’t like what I hear?”

His eyes darkened. “Then you better be prepared for what happens next.”

A shiver crawled down my spine, but I refused to show weakness. Whatever game Damien was playing, I had no choice but to play along.

For now.

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Author Note: Hi Let me know if there's improvement in my story?