Maya is barely keeping her life together when billionaire Damien Blackwood crashes into it. Cold, powerful, and used to getting everything he wants, Damien should be the last man she trusts. Yet the more he tries to stay away, the more obsessed he becomes. What starts as irresistible attraction soon turns into something far more dangerous—because Damien doesn’t just want Maya’s love. He wants all of her.
Maya Thompson had been running on caffeine and hope for years. It was 5:30 in the morning, and the café where she worked was still dark when she unlocked the front door. The quiet hum of the machines, the aroma of roasted beans, and the familiar click of her name tag against her apron-these were…
But sitting there, her signature halfway scrawled on the dotted line, Maya felt something twist in her chest. Hope… or warning. She didn’t know which. Maya showed up fifteen minutes early the next day, because late wasn’t even an option in a place like this. She hadn’t slept. Her mind kept replaying the elevator ride,…
She didn’t dare turn her head. But she saw Elle straighten, clipboard in hand. Saw the reflection of a tall, broad-shouldered figure flanked by two others pass by the tinted glass. She only caught the edge of a jawline. A cufflink flashing under the light. Then he was gone. Damien Blackwood. Real. Walking these halls.…
“That’s all?” “She’s not here to make a splash. Probably just wants the credit to graduate.” He nodded once. Thought for a moment. Then, calmly: “Move her to the west wing.” Ellie straightened. “That’s close to the inner teams. PR, strategy-“ “I know where it is.” She hesitated again, then softened her tone. “Understood.” Damien…
Harper leaned against the edge of the desk like they’d been friends for months. “So. Welcome to the chaos. You’re lucky-our wing’s the least soul-crushing. Strategic comms is stiff, but the PR folks are halfway human. Plus, we have the best snack drawer on this floor. And I have the passcode.” “Thank you. Honestly, I…
Because she was trying too hard not to look at him. And that? That told him everything. She had noticed him. She knew he’d noticed her. He leaned back slightly, fingers steepled beneath his chin as the slides changed. No expression. No tells. But in his mind, the questions turned over like dark cards. What…
Only intention. And whatever force had placed her in his path? It wasn’t finished yet. Not by a long shot. Maya didn’t move for a while after the pitch meeting ended. People trickled out of the glass conference room in composed silence, papers rustling, heels clicking, chairs scraping softly against polished floors. Damien Blackwood didn’t…
But already, the world around her felt like it had shifted on its axis. Nothing felt stable-not the desk, not the routine, not even her breath. Six months. That’s how long the internship would run. Six months to make it count. Six months of fighting exhaustion, smiling through uncertainty, and proving-somehow-that she deserved to be…
Elle returned fifteen minutes later, holding a slim folder. “Trina sent this over,” she said. “Apparently the intern writes detailed notes. Very detailed.” Damien took the folder and opened it slowly. The handwriting was neat, unpretentious. Bullet points organized by relevance, underlines used sparingly. Asterisks in the margins marked thoughts she clearly didn’t want to…
Harper raised a brow. “For interns? Who also happen to be brand new transfers and weren’t even scheduled for that meeting? Yeah, sounds super likely.” Maya ignored the teasing and reached for the envelope tucked into the bouquet. Her fingers trembled slightly as she slid the cream-colored card free. No name. Just one sentence. Maya,…