The hum of the air conditioner was louder than Elara's own heartbeat. She sat stiff in the HR conference room, a sterile white box of a space with beige chairs and a clock that ticked like it was mocking her.
Across from her, the HR director—a woman with a pinched smile and glasses perched precariously on her nose—was shuffling papers like she was about to hand Elara a death sentence.
"So, Ms. Hart," the woman began, her voice too sugary, too false, "there's been… chatter."
Chatter.
Like her name wasn't about to be plastered across gossip sites. Like she wasn't sitting in the middle of the storm Damien Kane had dragged her into.
Elara forced her face into something neutral. Not defensive. Not broken. Just… blank. "I'm aware," she said, her voice cool.
The HR director studied her like she was some sort of lab specimen. "You understand the perception problem here, don't you? You are Mr. Kane's assistant. His… proximity to you has raised questions."
Elara's jaw clenched. "Questions or accusations?"
The woman gave a practiced smile. "Both."
Of course. Elara had worked hard to build her reputation, to prove she wasn't some starry-eyed intern tripping over her heels for her billionaire boss. But now—one flash of cameras, one stolen moment—and suddenly she was every stereotype she'd sworn she wouldn't be.
And Damien? He'd survive this. He always did. She wasn't sure she would.
The HR director leaned forward. "Ms. Hart, we need you to be very clear. Are you involved in a personal relationship with Mr. Kane?"
Elara opened her mouth—
—and froze as the door swung open.
Damien Kane didn't knock. He didn't ask. He just walked in like the room belonged to him, because it did. His presence sucked the oxygen out of the air, his dark suit and sharper glare making the HR director flinch before he even spoke.
"Meeting's over." His voice was steel, commanding, absolute.
The HR director stammered, "Mr. Kane, we were—"
"You were wasting Ms. Hart's time," he snapped, his gaze like a blade. "If you have questions about my personal life, you direct them to me. Not her."
Elara sat frozen, heat flooding her cheeks. She should've been grateful. He'd come storming in, playing knight in Armani armor. But instead, all she felt was fury boiling under her skin.
Because once again, Damien Kane had taken over her life.
The HR director mumbled something about follow-ups and scurried out, leaving the two of them alone in the too-quiet room.
Silence stretched, heavy, suffocating.
Damien's eyes softened when they finally landed on her. "Elara—"
"Don't." Her voice cracked like a whip, sharp enough to make him stop.
He blinked, just once. "Don't what?"
"Don't swoop in here like you can fix everything." She stood, her hands trembling as she gathered her notebook and pen. "Don't act like you're protecting me when you're the reason I'm in this mess in the first place."
He didn't flinch, but his jaw tightened, the only tell that her words had landed. "You think I wanted this to happen? You think I wanted them to come after you?"
"I think," Elara said, her voice colder now, steadier, "that Damien Kane always gets what he wants. And right now, I feel like I'm just another thing on that list."
His eyes darkened, dangerous. "You're not just another thing."
"Then what am I?" she demanded, her chest heaving. "Because to the world, I'm a joke. I'm your assistant who couldn't keep her legs closed. And to HR, I'm a liability. So tell me, Damien—what am I to you?"
The silence that followed was brutal. He didn't answer right away, and the ache in her chest grew with every second.
Finally, he said quietly, "You're the only thing I can't control."
Her breath caught—but she forced herself not to react. Because that wasn't what she needed. She didn't need his obsession, his addiction, his chaos. She needed safety. Stability. A life that didn't feel like she was constantly balancing on the edge of a cliff.
And Damien Kane was the cliff.
"I can't do this," she whispered, stepping past him.
"Elara—" His hand brushed her wrist, gentle but burning.
She pulled away like his touch was fire. "Don't. Just… don't."
And with that, she walked out of the room, leaving him standing in the wreckage of silence he couldn't fix with money or power.
For the first time since she'd met Damien Kane, Elara Hart chose distance.
And God, it hurt.