Damon.
Zurich.
The city gleamed in shades of glass and winter gold beneath the early morning sun. Damon Voss stepped off his private jet, the bitter chill of alpine air cutting through the warmth of his tailored black coat. Around him, the familiar choreography of security guards, assistants, and black-suited chauffeurs unfolded in silence — a portrait of control he'd perfected over years of ruthless order.
He barely heard his environment. His mind wasn't in Zurich. It was still in Los Angeles.
More precisely, it was still in the moment Elara Quin had looked up at him from the shadows of the archive room — eyes fierce, unflinching, defiant.
"Curiosity can be a dangerous thing," he'd told her that night.
He hadn't stopped thinking about how she didn't flinch.
Now, days later, that same curiosity pulsed in his mind like an echo that refused to fade. He hated that he admired it.
His phone buzzed.
"Alex," he said flatly, stepping into the waiting limousine.
"Still brooding, I see," Alex Dobrick's voice came through, smooth and mocking. "Zurich's supposed to be good for your blood pressure, not whatever obsession you're cultivating back in L.A."
"Keep talking and I'll make you take my next board meeting," Damon muttered, unbuttoning his gloves.
Alex laughed, unfazed. "You're deflecting. Don't tell me this has to do with that intern girl—"
"Her name's Elara," Damon cut in before he could stop himself.
Silence. Then Alex's slow, knowing chuckle. "I know, Elara. The one who stood up to you. Interesting. You never remember names."
Damon's jaw flexed. "She's… unusual. Intelligent. Reckless."
"And you hate that you noticed," Alex teased. "You sound like a man trying not to fall into his own trap."
"Shut up, Alex."
But Alex only laughed harder. "You need a distraction, Voss. You're losing focus. How about Jenna?"
That name drew a quiet sigh from Damon. Jenna Dobrick — Alex's cousin, Europe's darling actress with a dangerous smile and an inconvenient interest in him. They'd met years ago, connected through Alex at a gala, shared a few moments of weakness and physical relief, but nothing more. Still, she kept orbiting him — graceful, persistent, and much too aware of her effect.
"Jenna's not—" Damon started, but Alex interrupted. The girl is probably out of the mansion feeling bad for what I said but it's not like she will never come back, she always does. I consider her an acquaintance that should be enough, the possibility of us ever being more than that is nonexistent and I don't pretend, it is what it is.
"She told me you guys met yesterday. I'm pretty sure you both ended up sleeping together and the fact you allow it when you know you can't give her more is crazy. Anyways she told me how you blew her off afterwards and for the love of God she is my cousin incase you have forgotten eventhough he can be a pain in the ass. she's dying of boredom. Take her shopping or something before she starts another scandal and adds more work on my plate than I already have."
Damon looked out the tinted window, watching the skyline blur. A distraction. Yes, that's what he needed. For the public. For Elara. For himself.
"Fine," he said, low and final. "Set it up."
Later that day, Jenna arrived at the penthouse suite Damon was using while in Zurich — sunlight spilling through the wide glass panels, catching on the marble floors and his tailored composure.
She walked in like she owned the room — in a white coat and heeled boots, blonde curls framing a face the world adored. "Damon. You still don't know how to smile when you see a woman, do you?"
He didn't look up from his laptop. "Jenna."
"I thought I'd have to break into the building to get your attention ever again" she teased, leaning on the counter. "Alex said you wanted company."
"Company, yes. Attention, no."
She rolled her eyes but grinned. "Still charming as ever."
Damon finally met her gaze. "I'm leaving for L.A. tomorrow. You're coming with me."
Her brows lifted. "That's sudden. You sure it's not because you're secretly in love with me?"
He ignored her tone. "It's business."
"With you, everything is business."
He closed the laptop, standing. His towering frame cast her reflection across the black marble. "And yet you're still here."
She laughed — a soft, knowing sound. "Because I like impossible things."
That earned a rare smirk from him. He motioned toward the door. "Get dressed. We're going shopping."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You? Shopping?"
He didn't answer — just walked past her with that unreadable calm that made people follow him even when they didn't want to.
They arrived at Bahnhofstrasse, Zurich's most luxurious street, where boutiques glittered with cold elegance. Cameras flashed almost instantly. Paparazzi, hungry and relentless. Damon didn't mind; in fact, he counted on it besides his security were around incase of any mishap.
Jenna held onto his arm, posing effortlessly while he pretended not to notice. She knew the dance — smile, glance, whisper something that would make headlines. He let her.
Inside one of the designer stores, she leaned close, voice low. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
He met her gaze, expression unreadable. "Publicity is a useful thing."
"For who? You or the mystery woman everyone keeps whispering about?"
He froze, only slightly. "What woman?"
"Oh come on, Damon. Even across the ocean, people talk. The employees in your company — the fiery intern who stood up to you. They say she has your attention."
His jaw tightened, but his voice was calm. "You shouldn't believe rumors."
"And yet," Jenna smiled, tilting her head, "you invited me here."
Exactly. He needed the world — and Elara Quin — to believe he had no interest in her. He needed her off-balance, doubting herself. That was how he controlled chaos.
By nightfall, photos of Damon Voss and Jenna Dobrick flooded the internet. Zurich's Power Couple? Billionaire CEO and Hollywood Starlet Spotted Together Again.
Exactly as planned.
Los Angeles.
When Damon returned, Voss Publishing buzzed with gossip. Even the elevators hummed with speculation.
Elara heard the whispers before she saw the headlines. Stella shoved her phone under Elara's nose with wide eyes. "Elara! Look at this! Damon Voss and Jenna Dobrick — together in Zurich. Oh my God, do you think they're dating?"
Elara blinked at the photo — Damon's tall, commanding figure beside a golden-haired actress who looked like she belonged in every rich man's fantasy. He was in a black coat, expression neutral, hand tucked loosely in his pocket. Controlled. Effortless. Untouchable.
Something twisted in her chest. Not jealousy — at least, that's what she told herself. It was curiosity. Irritation. Maybe even disbelief that the man who terrified board members could stand still for flashing cameras beside someone so… light.
"Dating?" she repeated flatly. "He doesn't strike me as the type."
Stella giggled. "Maybe she's the exception. You have to admit, they look good together."
Elara forced a smile and handed the phone back. "They look expensive."
That earned a laugh. Stella nudged her. "You sound jealous."
"I'm not," Elara said too quickly.
But when she sat at her desk later, trying to focus on the spreadsheets in front of her, her thoughts kept circling back. Why does this bother you? It wasn't as if she cared about Damon Voss. He was still the man who could destroy anyone with a word — the man who caught her snooping and made her feel like prey beneath his gaze.
And yet, the memory of his eyes on her — cold, sharp, assessing — wouldn't fade.
Outside, the sun dipped behind the LA skyline, painting the glass towers gold.
And somewhere between Zurich and Los Angeles, between lies and half-truths, between revenge and something dangerously close to fascination — the game truly began.
In a city built on power and secrets, curiosity wasn't just dangerous, it was fatal. And Damon Voss had just invited her to play.
The city was waiting, so was he.