Chapter Five: Storm Warning
I should have known better than to think a single peaceful moment would last.
It started with a meeting.
A high-stakes merger between Wolfe Enterprises and a rival firm had the entire company on edge, and Damon was tighter wound than usual. The man hadn't smiled in days. He didn't bark orders anymore—he sliced them like a whip through the air.
But that morning, he wasn't in the office.
Instead, I was summoned by Marissa.
"Boardroom. Now," she said without looking at me.
When I walked in, all eyes turned toward me—men in suits, women with tight smiles and sharper eyes, and at the center of it all: Damon, seated like a king ready to decapitate someone.
"You're late," he said coolly.
I wasn't, but I bit my tongue. "Apologies."
"Come here."
My legs moved before my pride could stop them. I stood beside him, trying not to notice how his cologne smelled like cedar and smoke, how close our shoulders almost touched.
He handed me a folder without looking. "Present the summary."
"What?"
"You heard me."
I swallowed the panic. The summary was filled with legal jargon, figures, projections—things I'd barely had time to skim this morning. But quitting wasn't an option.
I cleared my throat. "Wolfe Enterprises' proposed acquisition of Ashford Solutions involves a multi-tiered merger that will—"
Damon didn't interrupt me, but I felt the test in every second. He was watching me. Judging me.
And somehow, when I finished, the room didn't erupt in laughter or scorn. It was silent. Until one board member said, "Well explained."
Damon nodded slowly. "Adequate."
Coming from him, it was the closest thing to a compliment.
---
After the meeting, I found him in his office, staring at the skyline again.
"You threw me in there on purpose," I said.
He didn't deny it. "I needed to see what you'd do."
I crossed my arms. "And?"
"You didn't choke. That's... something."
"Thanks," I said dryly. "You're really generous with praise."
He turned, eyes unreadable. "You want praise, Lina? Earn it."
I took a step closer, heart racing. "I just did."
He looked at me for a long moment. "You're not what I expected."
"You mean poor?" I said, the bitterness slipping out. "Unpolished? Disposable?"
His jaw clenched. "No. I mean dangerous."
My breath caught. "To who?"
"To me."
He stepped closer. Too close. My back hit the edge of his desk, but I didn't move. His hand lifted—but stopped just short of touching my cheek. Inches between us, a breath, a heartbeat.
"I should fire you," he said quietly.
"Then why haven't you?"
His eyes darkened. "Because I'm not sure I want you gone."
---
That night, I left the office shaken.
Not because I was afraid of him.
But because I was starting to be afraid of myself—of what I might feel if I let my guard down.
This wasn't just a job anymore. And Damon Wolfe wasn't just my boss, or my enemy.
He was the storm I never saw coming.