Chapter 2 – Part 4: The Cracks Begin
The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in Damian Blackwood's office.
The city stretched far below his floor-to-ceiling windows — a glittering sea of ambition and noise — but inside, silence pressed against him like a weight. His desk was a fortress of glass and steel, scattered with documents he hadn't read and numbers that had begun to blur hours ago.
He'd dismissed his secretary for the day. Meetings had been cancelled with a single curt message.
He told himself it was because the merger papers needed review. But even he knew that was a lie.
Aria Bennett's voice wouldn't leave his mind.
Every word from that argument replayed on a loop: her defiance, the tremor she'd tried to hide, the way her eyes had flashed with something between fury and hurt. She'd stood her ground when most people wouldn't even meet his gaze.
It irritated him. It intrigued him more than it should have.
Damian leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to focus on the screen.
Numbers. Logic. Control. That was his language — not emotion, not the chaos that came with remembering the scent of her perfume or the way her shoulders had squared when she said she didn't need him.
But control was slipping.
A soft knock broke through his thoughts. His assistant, Rachel, stepped in cautiously. "Sir, the board meeting—"
"Postpone it," he interrupted, not looking up.
"Sir, it's the quarterly review. The directors are already—"
"I said postpone."
There was a flicker of hesitation, then the click of the door shutting again. Damian exhaled slowly. He hated the sound of weakness in his own voice.
He turned toward the window instead. The city lights reminded him of how small everyone looked from up here — tiny lives, insignificant struggles.
That was what he liked about this view: distance. Detachment. Yet somehow, one stubborn woman had broken right through it.
A vibration from his phone drew his attention. A new message.
From Ethan.
For a long moment, Damian just stared at the name. His jaw tightened. He'd blocked his half-brother months ago, after the scandal that nearly tore their family empire apart. But Ethan always found ways around blocks.
> Ethan: "You really think she's different from the rest? Aria's not the saint you imagine, brother."
Damian's thumb hovered over the screen. Another message followed before he could reply.
> Ethan: "You took what was mine once. Don't make the mistake of falling for her. She'll ruin you too."
He set the phone down on the desk with deliberate calm, though the words burned hotter than they should have.
He knew Ethan's game — provoke, manipulate, poison everything he couldn't control. Still, something about the message struck deeper than he wanted to admit.
She'll ruin you too.
His reflection in the window stared back at him — cold eyes, sharp suit, perfect mask. The kind of man who didn't get ruined.
He told himself that. Repeated it like a mantra. Yet beneath the calm surface, something restless coiled tighter.
Hours later, the boardroom filled with executives. Damian stood at the head of the long marble table, listening to numbers being read aloud.
"…projected losses due to the Bennett contract fallout," someone said.
That name again.
His pen snapped between his fingers. The sound was small, but it froze the room.
Every head turned toward him.
"Repeat that," Damian said quietly.
The finance director cleared his throat. "The Bennett family's assets were tied to the merger. Without Ethan's part of the agreement, our side is exposed to—"
"Fix it," Damian cut in. "I don't want excuses."
"We're trying, sir. But the Bennett company is under review by several investors. They're desperate. There's talk of them selling their remaining shares."
Desperate.
The word echoed louder than it should have.
He dismissed the room shortly after. The moment the door closed, he dropped into his chair and pressed his hands against his temples. His pulse pounded behind his eyes — not from the meeting, but from the storm building inside.
Aria's face flashed again in his mind, proud even when cornered. Desperate, yet refusing to beg.
How far would she let her pride take her before she broke?
He didn't want to know.
Or maybe he did.
That evening, Damian returned to his penthouse long after the city had dimmed into quiet gold and silver streaks. He loosened his tie, walked straight to the bar, and poured himself a drink he didn't taste.
The view from his home wasn't much different from his office — floor-to-ceiling glass, endless skyline. But tonight it felt suffocating.
He set the glass down and leaned both hands on the counter.
He'd built his life on detachment. On the belief that emotions were liabilities. He'd learned that from watching his father crumble over a woman who didn't love him back. From watching Ethan destroy everything he touched because of pride and jealousy.
He'd sworn he wouldn't repeat their mistakes.
And yet here he was — haunted by the memory of a woman he'd known for barely a handful of days.
He should have let her walk out of his office without another word.
He should have watched her struggle and called it justice.
Instead, he'd found himself wanting to protect her.
Wanting to see that fire in her eyes again.
His phone buzzed again — this time, Rachel's name lit up the screen.
> Rachel: "Sir, urgent update on the Bennett situation. Their company just filed for liquidation. It'll hit the news by morning."
Damian's hand stilled. The ice in his glass cracked sharply.
Liquidation.
So it was over. Her family was finished.
And she… she'd have no one left to shield her.
He should have felt satisfaction. Vindication, maybe. But all he felt was the faint twist of something dangerously close to guilt.
He crossed to the window and stared at the sleeping city below. For years, he'd believed every connection was a weakness — something to be used, not felt. But now, that belief felt hollow.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.
Because even before the words had left his lips, his mind had already made the next move.
He picked up the phone.
"Get me everything you can on Bennett Holdings," he told Rachel when she answered. "Quietly. No public trail."
"Yes, sir. Are we acquiring?"
"Not yet." His tone hardened. "Just… prepare."
He ended the call before she could question him.
Outside, thunder rolled in the distance, low and distant — a storm brewing over the skyline.
Damian watched the reflection of lightning flash against the glass. For a moment, he thought of Aria again — the way she'd looked that night, standing in the ruins of her wedding, trying so hard to hold herself together.
She'd fallen into his world by accident.
But fate, it seemed, had no intention of letting her out.
And no matter how much he told himself otherwise, neither did he.