The silence between us was unbearable.
Damien didn't shout.
Didn't move.
Didn't even look angry.
That was worse.
His eyes flicked once—to my clenched fist.
Then back to my face.
"You're in my office," he said calmly.
"I noticed," I replied, lifting my chin. "It's hard to miss."
"You broke into it."
"I walked in."
"You stole from it."
"I borrowed."
A pause.
His mouth curved slightly.
Not a smile.
A warning.
"Give it back," he said.
I didn't move.
"Or what?" I asked.
The lights behind him glowed softly, outlining his broad shoulders, his stillness. He looked like a man carved out of shadow and patience.
"I told you," he said quietly. "If you break the rules, I break you."
My pulse raced—but I refused to step back.
"I wanted proof," I said. "Proof that you framed my father."
Damien studied me for a long moment.
Then he laughed.
Once.
Low. Cold.
"You think I'd keep evidence of a crime in my own office?" he asked. "That's adorable."
I swallowed.
"So you admit it."
"No," he replied. "I'm saying you're careless."
In one swift movement, he closed the distance between us.
Too fast.
Too close.
I didn't even have time to react before his hand closed around my wrist—firm, controlled, not painful but impossible to ignore.
"Let go," I snapped.
"Not yet."
His grip tightened just enough to make the point clear.
"I gave you one rule that mattered," he said softly. "Stay out of my space."
"I'm not afraid of you."
"That," he said, leaning closer, "is your biggest mistake."
He reached into my pocket and pulled out the flash drive.
Just like that.
Effortless.
My stomach dropped.
He held it up between us.
"You really thought I wouldn't notice this missing?" he asked.
I yanked my wrist free. "Then why leave it there?"
The question slipped out before I could stop myself.
For the first time—
He hesitated.
Just a fraction of a second.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But I did.
Damien's eyes sharpened.
"Because," he said slowly, "some traps are meant to be found."
My blood ran cold.
"You wanted me to take it," I whispered.
"I wanted to see how far you'd go," he corrected.
My nails dug into my palms.
"You're playing games."
"Yes," he agreed. "And you just made your first move."
He turned away and walked back toward his desk, casually placing the flash drive down.
"You should be grateful," he continued. "Most people don't survive this long after crossing me."
I followed him, fury boiling in my chest.
"You think this scares me?" I demanded. "You think you can control me with threats?"
He stopped suddenly and turned.
His face was inches from mine.
Cold fury radiating off him.
"I already control you," he said quietly. "You live in my house. You carry my name. Your father's life depends on my signature."
The words hit hard.
Brutal.
True.
"And yet," he added softly, "you still walked into my office."
I met his gaze, breathing hard.
"Yes," I said. "I did."
Silence.
Something electric passed between us.
Not attraction.
Recognition.
"You're not as weak as I thought," he said finally.
"And you're not as untouchable as you pretend."
That did it.
His jaw tightened.
"Get out," he said. "Before I decide to remind you who you belong to."
I turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
"I'll find the truth," I said without looking back. "Whether it's you… or someone else."
For a long moment, he didn't respond.
Then—
"Be careful what you uncover, Ivy," he said quietly.
"Some truths don't set you free. They bury you."
I walked out with my heart pounding.
But inside my chest—
Something burned brighter than fear.
Determination.
Because Damien Cross had just confirmed one thing.
He was hiding something.
And whatever it was—
It was big enough to be worth trapping me for.