Emma's Pov
For the first time in months, things with Damian were… peaceful. There were no sudden outbursts, no threats, no walking on eggshells waiting for the next storm. It was just quiet which was unfamiliar.
Our sessions that week were smooth….too smooth. He actually listened when I spoke, didn't interrupt, and didn't try to dominate the conversation. He even smiles, like real smiles, not the polite ones that looked carved into his face.
I caught myself watching him once, mid-session, as he scrolled through some presentation slides. His jaw wasn't clenched, his shoulders weren't rigid, and he looked, God help me, almost happy.
Maybe, I thought, maybe he's changing.
Then that week James asked me out.
It happened on a Thursday afternoon. I had just wrapped up a meeting with a client when he walked into my office catching me by surprise that he even knew my office, he was holding two coffee cups
With a smile on his face he handed me the coffee "One's for you," he said with that easy grin. "The other's for me, in case you say no."
I raised a brow. "Say no to what?"
He cleared his throat. "Dinner. Tomorrow? It's nothing fancy. It will be just… us."
I should've hesitated longer. I should've considered what saying yes might mean, but the words slipped out before my brain caught up.
"Okay."
That night on my way home, I told myself it wasn't a big deal. It was just dinner and Damian didn't own me. Whatever… thing we had, whatever fragile truce existed between us didn't mean he had a say in my life outside work.
Except, apparently, he thought otherwise.
The next morning, he called me into his office inside the mansion earlier than usual. The blinds were half-drawn, his tie discarded on the desk, his sleeves rolled up. He looked like sin wrapped in control.
"Sit," he said, not looking up from his laptop.
I sat, crossing my legs carefully. "You wanted to see me?"
He typed for another few seconds before finally lifting his gaze. His eyes flicked to the folder in my hands, then back to my face. "You're going out with James."
My throat tightened. "You've been checking my schedule again?"
His expression didn't shift. "You told Daniel, who told me. You didn't think that would stay quiet, did you?"
"It's dinner, Damian, not treason."
He closed the laptop slowly, steepling his fingers. "You work under my supervision. Going out with another person….."
"Not against any policy," I cut in. "I checked."
He leaned back, the corner of his mouth twitching, not quite a smile, not quite a threat. "You really did your homework."
"Someone has to when you make up rules as you go."
"Emma." My name came out low, warning. "You know what people will say."
"I don't care what people say."
"I do," he said, his voice sharp now. "You represent me, this company. If this goes wrong..."
"Then it's my problem, not yours."
The silence that followed was thick. He stood suddenly, pacing toward the window. For a long moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the city outside. Then he said with no remorse,
"Cancel it."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
He turned, eyes dark. "The date, I want you to cancel it."
"No."
His jaw flexed. "Emma....."
"No, Damian," I said, standing now too. "You don't get to dictate my personal life just because we've had a few civil dinners."
He moved closer, the air between us tightening. "You think this is about dinner?"
"Then what is it about?" I demanded. "Control?"
He stopped just inches away, his voice dropping to something rawer, lower. "It's about the fact that I don't want you with him."
That stunned me. "You don't....what?"
"I don't like it," he said, almost like he hated admitting it. "The thought of you sitting across from him, laughing, letting him think he has a chance...."
"You're jealous." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
His silence said everything.
I let out a disbelieving laugh. "You can't be serious. You, of all people...."
"Don't," he warned softly. "You think I don't know how ridiculous it sounds? I do but I don't care."
I stared at him, heart pounding. "Damian, this isn't healthy."
He smiled faintly. "Neither are you for me."
Something in my chest twisted. "You can't keep doing this—pretending you don't care and then acting like you own me the moment someone else shows interest."
His hand brushed my arm, tentative at first, then firm. "Maybe I'm done pretending."
For a second, neither of us moved. His breath was warm against my skin, his eyes dark and unreadable.
"Don't go," he murmured.
"Damian….."
"Stay," he said, voice quieter now, almost a plea. "Dinner with him, or dinner with me. Your choice."
The way he said it made it feel like more than a choice. Like a test.
I hated that part of me wanted to choose him.
"Damian, this isn't fair."
"I never promised fair," he said, and there it was, the truth beneath all his control. He didn't play fair when it came to the things he wanted.
And right now, he wanted me.
I swallowed hard. "You can't keep me here."
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I won't have to."
The tension snapped. I turned toward the door, meaning to walk away, to prove to both of us that I could but his hand caught mine.
"Emma," he said, softer this time. "Please."
That one word undid me. It wasn't a command, he was begging. I turned back, searching his face. There was no arrogance there now. Just… him.
"Dinner," I said quietly. "One. Then I'm going home."
His jaw tightened. "Fine."
But when the evening came, and I found myself once again in the passenger seat of his car, watching the city lights blur past, I realized he'd already won.
Because even though I should've been sitting across from James, I wasn't. I was with Damian, again.