The night air in the city was thick with noise and neon, vibrating with bass from rooftop lounges and laughter spilling out of open club doors. Damian Walker didn't particularly enjoy nights like this anymore — the crowds, the flashing lights, the women who saw his last name before they ever saw him.
But he needed a distraction.
So when Alex Cooper called and said, "We're celebrating the ReedTech deal. Get your brooding ass to Vellum," Damian didn't argue.
He needed to blow off steam.
He needed to pretend.
Vellum was private, upscale, and dark enough that no one asked questions. And Alex was already three drinks deep when Damian arrived.
"There he is," Alex grinned, raising a glass of whiskey and sliding one across the table toward him. "I was starting to think you'd turned into a ghost."
"I've been busy," Damian said, sitting down in the booth. "Unlike you."
"Business is booming," Alex shrugged. "But you know what's booming faster than my revenue? My social calendar." He gave a grin as two tall blondes in sequined dresses sat on either side of him, giggling and leaning into his shoulders.
Damian raised an eyebrow. "Keeping it classy, I see."
"Classy is boring. Come on, man. You used to know how to have fun. Or did your new assistant already break your will?"
Damian stiffened for just a second — a flicker so brief that no one but Alex would have noticed.
And of course, Alex noticed everything.
"Oh ho," Alex said, laughing as he took another drink. "That's the look. That's exactly the look I've been waiting for."
Damian said nothing, taking a slow sip of his whiskey.
"So?" Alex pushed. "You going to admit it or do I have to beat it out of you with another round?"
"There's nothing to admit."
"Sure there isn't," Alex said with a smirk. "You're sitting in a club surrounded by women, and you haven't looked at a single one. I've had both of these on my lap, and you haven't even blinked."
He gestured to the women beside him. They pouted playfully and giggled again, clearly aware that they were no longer the topic of interest.
Damian exhaled, then looked at the two women. "Thank you, ladies. Enjoy the rest of your night."
They slid away, slightly disappointed, but wise enough not to argue.
Alex watched with eyebrows raised. "Wow. You really are gone."
Damian shot him a look. "It's not like that."
"No? Then tell me what it is like. Because the last time you passed on two models with free vodka and zero boundaries, we were still in college and you had mono."
Damian rubbed his jaw, leaning back against the leather booth.
"It's… complicated."
"Try me."
"She's my assistant."
Alex barked a laugh. "You hired her? Are you insane?"
"She needed the job."
"And you needed a full-blown ethical crisis, apparently."
Damian didn't respond. He just stared down into his drink, the ice slowly melting into amber.
Alex grew quieter. He knew that look — Damian had worn it once before. Years ago. When everything fell apart.
"You like her," Alex said after a pause. "Not just the way she looks. You feel something."
Damian didn't answer immediately. He didn't need to. The silence was enough.
"She's not like them," he finally said. "She's real. She's smart. She doesn't try to impress me. She doesn't even know who I really am."
"Exactly," Alex said, his tone softening. "And when she does find out… about the past, about how you brought her in?"
"That's what I don't know," Damian said quietly. "I've spent years building this wall between who I am and who I let people think I am. But she makes it harder to hold it up."
"And what are you going to do?" Alex asked, resting his elbows on the table. "Tell her everything? Confess you've been watching her for two years? That you engineered her job?"
Damian's jaw clenched. "I didn't engineer her. I just gave her a way in."
"Man, you and I both know that's the clean version of a very dirty truth."
Damian looked up, and for the first time that night, his voice carried weight. "I never touched her. Never approached her. Never crossed the line. All I ever did was make sure she was safe."
Alex leaned back, nodding slowly. "And now she's in your office. Across from your desk. Every day."
Damian didn't answer.
"Do you want her to know how you feel?" Alex asked, genuine curiosity behind the teasing now.
"I don't know," Damian said. "Sometimes I think she deserves to know. Other times, I think the most respectful thing I can do is keep my distance."
"Then why did you hire her?"
Because he was selfish. Because for once in his cold, calculated life, he wanted something that wasn't about power or profit.
"She makes me feel like… I haven't completely rotted from the inside out."
Alex went still for a moment. "Jesus."
"She reminds me who I was before. Before the money. Before the lies. Before everything I destroyed."
"You love her."
Damian flinched.
Then nodded. Just once.
Alex let out a low breath and clinked his glass against Damian's.
"Then you better figure out how to tell her the truth before she finds it out herself — because if she does, and you're not the one who says it first…"
"She'll walk away," Damian finished.
"And you won't be able to stop her," Alex added. "No matter how many companies you own or security cameras you've got pointed at her apartment."
Damian didn't argue.
Because Alex was right.
And that truth — that looming, inevitable truth — was getting closer every day.