"Hey, what do you think you are doing?"
A female voice echoed through the hallway, and Damien froze.
He stared at their close proximity, stunned—but that wasn't all. It was the way he held her that shocked him. He had her pinned to the wall by the throat, like she was something he needed to destroy. Like a nightmare he wanted to crush. And worst of all, she didn't react. She didn't flinch.
His hand shook as he let go of her, but he kept his expression cold. He buried the fear, masked it with a low growl, and stepped back, eyes still locked on hers.
"I'll be back," he said, voice like steel. "And when I do, you'd better be ready for what's coming."
He turned to leave, then paused and added in a whisper,
"And as for your offer, Alina… don't think I'm fool enough to accept it."
He strode away, his footsteps pounding down the hallway. He didn't spare Mya a glance as he passed.
Mya, who had been worried that her friend hadn't shown up, decided to check on her—only to walk in on this.
She had shouted at the man hurting Alina, but the moment he turned—and she, God help her, laid eyes on that heavenly face sculpted by the gods themselves—she forgot how to breathe. All she could do was gape.
"My God," she inhaled sharply, her voice barely a whisper as she turned slowly to Alina, like a lost puppy. "That is… he is…"
"Damien Cole," Alina finished for her, rubbing her neck where he had gripped.
At first, he had slammed her against the wall. He was angry—no, furious. She saw it in his eyes, in the way his face twisted with rage, like a beast seconds away from tearing into its prey. But then… something shifted. A flicker of fear. Confusion. For the first time, she saw past the rage in his gaze.
And when his fingers tightened around her throat, as if he meant to rip it apart, she had been too stunned to move. Too stunned to even react.
"The one… on the papers?" Mya asked, disbelief coloring her voice, eyes wide with shock.
Alina nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the spot where Damien had disappeared. 'I will be back'.
His words echoed in her mind like a curse. They haunted her. And now she didn't know how to deal with any of it. Not just the fear..but the way she'd noticed his scent, the way he looked, like something out of a forbidden dream. She never noticed anyone. So why now? Why Damien?
She rubbed her forehead, trying to push the thoughts away. But that wasn't the worst of it. Her legs were trembling. Her knees wobbled, and she barely managed to catch herself against the wall before they gave out completely.
"Alina," Mya called out, worry thick in her voice as she rushed to steady her. "You're pale. Are you okay?"
Of course I'm not, Alina wanted to snap. But Mya didn't deserve that. She hadn't caused this. Yelling wouldn't solve anything—and it wasn't who she was.
Still, maybe one day, she'd let go. Maybe one day, she'd scream. She'd kick. She'd throw something.
Damn Damien Cole.
Damn Walter Graves for dragging her into this mess.
"Ma'am," Mya said softly, steadying her as she guided her away from the hallway that now felt like a nightmare closing in.
"I want to go home," Alina whispered.
She hadn't meant to say it out loud. She wasn't supposed to go home. She was supposed to be at the conference—officiating, meeting guests, playing her part. But for the first time, all she wanted was the comfort of her bed. She wanted to disappear, to be far away from all these people…
"Very well. I'll make sure of it," Mya replied, gently rubbing her shoulders.
"Thank you, Mya," Alina murmured, letting herself lean into Mya's support—just this once.
Mya nodded, eyes focused ahead. "Did he hurt you? Why is he here?"
Of course. She hadn't told her yet. She should. Maybe Mya could come up with a solution. Maybe she'd know what to do.
But Alina was tired—exhausted. She didn't want to talk about him.
So instead, she kept her mouth shut. Closed her eyes. And once again, she chose silence over confiding in the only friend she had.
Mya seemed to understand and didn't press further.
"It's okay if you don't want to tell me," she said gently. "You can, when you're ready. But Alina, I want you to know—you don't have to carry everything alone. If you're tired, lean on me. Or Lucas."
God, she wanted to cry. She should let herself fall into that comfort. Let herself accept it.
But instead, she just nodded and allowed Mya to guide her—away from the hallway, away from the conference, and toward the waiting black limousine.
A broad-shouldered man in a tailored suit stood beside the car. The moment he saw his boss, he moved at once.
"Ma'am," he greeted.
From the way his eyes scanned the towering building and the lines of parked cars, it was clear he wanted to ask why they were leaving early. Like he had planned to stop somewhere else before the event ended.
Mya shot him a warning glance. He backed off without a word and opened the car door for them.
*******
That night, the sleep Alina Graves waited for never came.
All that lingered were fragments of Damien's face—his words, the way they curled from his lips, and the scent he carried when he stood too close.
She shook her head and rose from the bed, crossing into her in-house office, separated from her room by a single wall.
Her desk faced a tall window, stretching wide and clear, offering a perfect view of the city of Albanan below.
She powered on her desktop and began to type.
Not now.
This wasn't the time to be thinking about Damien Cole.
If she was going to survive this, she had to survive her emotions first. She had to stay focused, unshaken. Nothing and no one could be allowed to break her.
Not Damien Cole.
Not Walter Graves.
Her father had done terrible things in the shadows—hurt people who might now crave revenge. But she refused to carry the weight of his sins for the rest of her life.
Damien Cole 'would' agree to her request.
And she would make sure of it.