Elena barely slept that night.
Not because of the party.
Not because of the whispers, the politics, or the endless congratulations from people who only cared about business alliances.
It was because of him.
Damon Moretti.
Just thinking his name made her jaw tighten.
The city had talked about his return all night. Investors, politicians, rival companies—everyone wanted a piece of him.
And somehow, he had chosen to stand across the room… watching her.
Morning sunlight slipped through the curtains of Elena's penthouse.
She sat at the dining table scrolling through emails on her tablet when footsteps approached.
"Good morning, future Mrs. Ricci."
She looked up.
Matteo Ricci leaned down and kissed her forehead.
Elena softened instantly.
Unlike Damon's presence—which felt like standing near a loaded gun—Matteo was warm. Familiar. Safe.
"You're up early," she said.
"I have a meeting with the board today." He poured himself coffee. "After last night, they suddenly care about partnerships again."
Elena raised an eyebrow.
"You mean after Damon Moretti showed up."
Matteo's expression darkened.
"He's trouble."
"He's competition," Elena corrected calmly.
"Same thing."
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Matteo sighed.
"I don't like the way he looks at you."
Elena laughed softly.
"He doesn't look at me."
"Oh, he does."
Matteo's voice lowered.
"And he knows exactly what he's doing."
Later That Day — Ricci & Laurent Headquarters
The Ricci-Laurent building stood in the center of the financial district. Forty stories of glass and steel.
Elena stepped out of the elevator onto the executive floor.
Employees immediately straightened.
"Good morning, Ms. Laurent."
"Morning."
Her heels clicked confidently across the marble floor as she headed toward the conference room.
She pushed the doors open.
Executives sat around the long table.
Investors.
Lawyers.
Board members.
And at the far end—
A tall figure leaned back lazily in his chair.
Dark suit.
Black shirt.
No tie.
Arrogance practically radiating from him.
Damon.
The room felt smaller instantly.
Elena stopped walking.
"What is he doing here?"
The chairman cleared his throat nervously.
"Mr. Moretti requested a meeting regarding a potential acquisition."
Matteo slammed his palm lightly on the table.
"Denied."
Damon didn't even look at him.
His gaze stayed fixed on Elena.
Slow.
Unbothered.
Almost amused.
"Sit down, Miss Laurent," Damon said quietly.
His voice was low.
Controlled.
Dangerously calm.
Elena crossed her arms.
"You don't get to tell me what to do in my own building."
One corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
That tiny smirk made something irrational spark in her chest.
"Then stand," Damon replied. "But the conversation continues either way."
The arrogance.
The absolute nerve.
Elena pulled out a chair and sat.
"Five minutes," she said coldly. "Then you leave."
Damon finally shifted his gaze to the others.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I'll be brief."
He placed a file on the table.
"Our companies have overlapping interests. Shipping routes. Manufacturing contracts. Security infrastructure."
Matteo scoffed.
"You expect us to partner with the Moretti family?"
Damon's expression didn't change.
"I expect you to recognize opportunity."
Elena flipped open the file.
Numbers.
Contracts.
Projected profits.
Her eyes narrowed.
It was… impressive.
Annoyingly impressive.
Damon noticed.
"Interesting, isn't it?"
She snapped the folder shut.
"I'm not impressed."
"You should be."
Their eyes locked.
The tension between them became thick enough to feel.
One of the investors shifted uncomfortably.
"This partnership could triple market reach."
Matteo leaned forward.
"We don't work with enemies."
Damon finally turned his attention to him.
And the temperature in the room dropped.
"You're not my enemy," Damon said quietly.
"You're just… in my way."
Matteo stood up instantly.
"You—"
Elena grabbed his arm.
"Matteo."
Her voice was calm but firm.
Slowly, he sat again.
Damon watched the interaction with mild interest.
Then he looked back at Elena.
"You're the smart one," he said.
She glared.
"Don't patronize me."
"I'm not."
Silence stretched.
Then Damon pushed the folder toward her.
"Read it properly," he said. "Then decide."
Elena slid the file back across the table.
"We'll contact you."
Damon stood.
The movement was slow, controlled.
Every person in the room seemed to instinctively move aside as he walked toward the door.
When he reached Elena, he paused.
Close.
Too close.
His voice dropped so only she could hear.
"You've gotten sharper since the last time our families crossed paths."
Elena didn't look at him.
"Leave."
A faint breath of amusement escaped him.
Then he walked out.
And the entire room seemed to breathe again.
After the Meeting
Matteo slammed the door of Elena's office behind them.
"Absolutely not."
She leaned against her desk.
"You didn't even read the proposal."
"I don't need to."
"You do if it benefits the company."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"Elena, that man is dangerous."
"So are we."
"That's different."
She sighed.
"Matteo, business isn't about pride."
"It is when the Morettis are involved."
Elena crossed her arms.
"And what exactly are you afraid of?"
His eyes darkened.
"I'm not afraid."
She tilted her head.
"Then why are you acting like it?"
Before he could answer—
A knock came on the door.
Her assistant peeked in nervously.
"Ms. Laurent… Mr. Moretti is still here."
Elena frowned.
"Why?"
"He says he's waiting."
"For what?"
The assistant swallowed.
"For you."
Lobby
Elena stepped into the lobby.
And instantly understood why half the staff looked distracted.
Damon stood near the windows talking to a group of investors.
Three women from marketing hovered nearby pretending to check their phones while staring at him.
Someone whispered.
"That's him."
"The Moretti heir."
"He's even hotter in person."
Elena rolled her eyes.
Of course.
Damon ended the conversation and turned.
His gaze immediately found her.
Like he had expected her to come.
"Miss Laurent."
"What do you want?"
He glanced around the lobby.
"Privacy."
"You had your meeting."
"That wasn't the conversation I wanted."
Elena sighed impatiently.
"Two minutes."
They stepped outside onto the balcony overlooking the city.
Wind tugged slightly at her hair.
Damon leaned against the railing.
Relaxed.
Completely unbothered.
"You're wasting my time," Elena said.
"Am I?"
"Yes."
He studied her for a moment.
Then said calmly—
"You're going to accept the partnership."
She laughed.
"You're delusional."
"No."
His voice remained steady.
"You're ambitious."
"And?"
"And you won't turn down profit because of family grudges."
Elena stepped closer.
"You think you know me?"
"I know enough."
She stared at him.
Up close, he was even more irritating.
Sharp jawline.
Dark eyes.
Confidence that bordered on arrogance.
"Here's what you don't know," she said quietly.
"I don't trust you."
Damon shrugged slightly.
"You don't have to."
"So why should I work with you?"
His gaze darkened slightly.
"Because eventually you'll realize you enjoy winning more than you hate me."
Elena felt her temper flare.
"Get out of my building."
Damon pushed away from the railing.
He walked past her.
Then paused beside her shoulder.
"See you soon, Elena."
She turned sharply.
"I didn't agree to anything."
His voice drifted back as he headed for the elevator.
"You will."
The doors closed behind him.
And Elena stood there staring after him—
Angrier than she had been in years.
But also…
Unsettled.
Because deep down…
A tiny part of her suspected he might be right.