Elara had always prided herself on discipline. She could juggle deadlines, client calls, and office politics without breaking a sweat. But ever since Damien Kane had started tightening his orbit around her, discipline was… slipping.
It was the little things.
The way her pulse raced when her phone lit up with his name. The way she replayed their brief conversations late at night. The way she caught herself anticipating his footsteps before they even echoed down the marble halls.
It was unbearable. Dangerous. Unprofessional.
So she did what any self-preserving woman would do: she put up a wall.
She ignored his texts unless strictly about work. She kept her tone clipped, her answers short. And most of all—she said yes to a date.
---
It wasn't even someone extraordinary.
Matthew from accounting had been hovering for weeks, shy but persistent. He wasn't tall, brooding, or impossibly magnetic like Damien. He didn't wear tailored suits that whispered of power or smell like clean cedar and danger. He was, in every sense, safe.
And that's exactly what she needed.
So when Matthew invited her to a quiet dinner downtown, she forced a smile and said yes.
---
The restaurant was warm, candlelit, with low music drifting between polished wooden tables. Matthew was sweet, charming in his nervous way. He talked about hiking trails, his dog, and how he once got lost in Paris but found the best croissant of his life.
Elara laughed more than she expected to. Maybe this was good. Maybe this was exactly what she needed.
Her phone buzzed on the table.
Damien.
Where are you?
Her breath hitched. She flipped the screen face-down.
"Everything okay?" Matthew asked.
"Yes," she said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just work. Ignore it."
But she couldn't ignore it. Her heart pounded as the phone buzzed again.
You didn't tell me you had plans tonight.
Her skin prickled. How did he know?
She shoved the phone into her bag. Focus. Focus on Matthew. Focus on normal.
---
Half an hour later, as Matthew was telling her about his grandmother's obsession with bingo, the air shifted.
It was subtle at first — the way the room seemed to fall quiet, the way a few heads turned toward the entrance.
Then she saw him.
Damien Kane.
Black suit, crisp white shirt, eyes locked directly on her. He moved through the restaurant like he owned it, every step deliberate, every gaze yielding to his presence.
Elara's stomach plummeted. "Oh God."
Matthew frowned. "Do you… know him?"
Before she could answer, Damien was at their table.
"Elara," he said smoothly, ignoring Matthew entirely. "You didn't answer my calls."
"I—because I'm busy," she snapped, flustered.
"Busy?" His gaze flicked to Matthew, sharp as a blade. "This is what you call busy?"
Matthew bristled. "Excuse me, who are you?"
Damien finally turned his attention on him, eyes narrowing. "Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is that she has work to do in the morning. And I expect her to be rested."
"Damien," Elara hissed, standing quickly, her cheeks burning. "You cannot be serious right now."
He leaned closer, his voice low but laced with steel. "You don't belong here."
Her chest constricted. "You don't get to decide that."
A pause. Then, softer, dangerously tender: "The hell I don't."
Matthew stood, trying to intervene, but Damien's presence was suffocating, impenetrable. Elara grabbed her bag and stormed toward the exit, needing air, needing space, needing anything that wasn't him.
Damien followed. Of course he followed.
---
Outside, the night was cool, the city buzzing. She spun on him. "What is wrong with you? You don't own me!"
His jaw clenched, his eyes burning with something between fury and desperation. "You think this is about ownership? No, Elara. This is about you."
"Me?" she demanded. "Or your ego?"
"Don't twist this," he growled. "I can't—" He stopped himself, fists tightening at his sides. "I can't stand the thought of you with someone else."
Her breath caught. The admission was raw, unfiltered, almost painful.
"Then that's your problem," she whispered, though her voice trembled. "Not mine."
And with that, she walked away.
But Damien's gaze followed her into the night, dark and unyielding.
And deep down, Elara knew: this wasn't the end of his obsession.
It was only the beginning.