Amara stood in front of the full-length mirror in her small apartment, staring at her reflection like she barely recognized herself.
Her navy blue cocktail dress hugged her curves in all the right places, with an off-shoulder neckline that showed just enough skin to feel both elegant and slightly daring.
Her hair, usually pulled back in a simple ponytail, now fell in soft waves around her shoulders, thanks to a rushed YouTube tutorial and half a can of hairspray.
Makeup? Minimal but present-just enough to look polished, like she belonged in the kind of room where billionaires mingled over champagne.
Her phone buzzed.
A text from Eric:
"Remember: smile, stay near Damian, and don't trip in those heels. Good luck!"
Amara smiled softly, nerves twisting in her stomach.
This was it.
Her first official appearance... not just as an employee of Knight Industries, but as Damian Knight's assistant.
---
By 5:30 PM, she was back at Knight Tower, standing near the lobby where a line of luxury cars waited outside.
Damian appeared a few minutes later, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo that made her heart skip a beat.
He didn't speak at first. Just gave her one long, slow glance-from head to toe-his gaze unreadable.
"Acceptable," he said at last, voice low and cool.
Amara blinked, unsure if that was supposed to be a compliment.
Before she could respond, Damian offered her his arm.
"Stay close. No mistakes tonight."
Her fingers trembled as she looped her hand through his arm, but she nodded.
"Yes, Mr. Knight."
---
Damian's POV
Damian felt her hesitate for just a fraction of a second before her fingers rested against his arm.
Her skin was warm. Soft.
He hated how aware of it he became.
The car ride to the gala was quiet. He reviewed financial reports on his phone while sneaking the occasional glance at her reflection in the tinted window.
She looked... different tonight.
Still the same stubborn, determined Amara Rivera-but dressed like she belonged in his world.
Dangerous.
And distracting.
As their car pulled up to the red-carpeted entrance of the hotel ballroom, camera flashes went off almost immediately.
Reporters. Bloggers. Tabloid photographers.
Damian slipped back into CEO mode.
Expression cold. Posture controlled. Smile...nonexistent.
Amara clutched her small clutch bag tighter, keeping two steps behind him like he'd instructed earlier.
---
Inside the ballroom, the atmosphere was glittering and loud.
Champagne glasses clinked. Laughter echoed.
High-profile business leaders, celebrities, and investors filled the room.
Damian exchanged polite nods with people he barely tolerated.
Amara kept moving with him like shadow and light-silent, alert, scribbling quick notes on her phone whenever Damian whispered instructions under his breath.
But halfway through the evening, during a conversation with a group of investors, one of the older men turned toward Amara with an amused grin.
"And who's this lovely lady?" the man asked, looking her up and down. "Your new... assistant, Mr. Knight? Or something... more?"
A few people laughed.
Amara's cheeks flushed bright red.
Before she could stammer out a reply, Damian spoke, voice cold as ice:
"She's here for business," he said sharply. "Nothing more."
The man raised his hands in mock surrender. "Of course, of course..."
But Amara didn't miss the way Damian's jaw clenched... or the dark flicker in his eyes.
---
As the night wore on, Damian stayed close to her side... closer than usual.
At one point, as they stepped away from the main crowd toward a quieter corner of the room, he leaned in slightly and said low near her ear:
"You handled that well."
Amara's heart skipped at the unexpected praise.
"Thank you, Mr. Knight," she whispered back.
But as she turned to look up at him, their eyes locked for a second too long...
And in that small, charged moment... surrounded by music, laughter, and glittering lights...
Neither of them breathed.
Amara's POV
Neither of them breathed.
For that small, fragile second, the noise around them faded-the music, the clinking glasses, the low hum of conversations.
All that existed was the intense pull between them...
Amara's heart pounded wildly in her chest. She quickly dropped her gaze, forcing herself to take a step back and regain control of her breathing.
"I-I should check your next appointment on the schedule," she mumbled, clutching her phone like it was a lifeline.
Damian didn't say anything right away. She felt his eyes still on her, sharp and unreadable, as if he was debating whether to say something else... or let her off the hook.
Finally, he adjusted his cufflinks, straightening his posture. "Stay focused, Miss Rivera. This is still business."
"Of course, Mr. Knight," she whispered, barely trusting her voice.
But as she turned and walked away toward the refreshment table, she could still feel the weight of his gaze on her back.
---
Damian's POV
Damian dragged in a deep breath, jaw tightening as he watched her retreat.
What the hell was that?
One look... One stupid, lingering look... and suddenly the air between them had shifted.
Unacceptable.
Completely unprofessional.
He shook it off, forcing his mind back to business.
There were still investors to greet. Partners to reassure. Contracts in negotiation.
And yet, even as he schooled his face into his usual cold, unreadable mask...
His eyes kept drifting back toward her.
Standing near the corner, her fingers nervously tapping against her phone, her soft curls falling around her shoulders...
Damian turned away sharply, gripping the stem of his wine glass harder than necessary.
This could not happen.
Would not happen.
No matter how tempting...
Amara's POV (Later that Night)
After what felt like hours of smiling, nodding, and pretending to know what people were talking about, the gala finally wound down.
Damian gave her a brief nod toward the exit, signaling that it was time to leave.
The car ride back to Knight Tower was filled with silence.
Not the angry, cold silence she feared from him-but something heavier... charged... confusing.
She kept her eyes on the window the entire time, feeling the tension stretch like a rubber band between them.
When they arrived, Damian stepped out first. He didn't wait for her like he sometimes did.
Just a single, short command over his shoulder:
"Be at your desk by 6 AM. No excuses."
And with that... he disappeared into the building.
Amara stood there for a moment, alone in the night air, letting out the breath she'd been holding.
Whatever this strange connection was growing between them...
It was dangerous.
For both of them.