Chapter 2 2

Becky's POV

Damien Lancaster didn't respond immediately. Instead, he swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching it as though the answer lay somewhere in the depths of his whiskey. Becky held her breath, waiting.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken truths. This was what she wanted-the raw, unfiltered glimpse into the man behind the empire.

He finally spoke, voice smooth but laced with something she couldn't quite decipher. "You ask a dangerous question, Miss Lynchburg."

"Good journalism requires a little danger."

One dark brow arched. "That what you think this is? A story?"

Her fingers tightened around her pen. "Isn't it?"

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but there was no amusement in his eyes. "That depends. Do you write fiction?"

The underlying challenge in his tone sent a shiver down her spine. The man was testing her, measuring whether she had the nerve to push past his carefully constructed walls.

Becky leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk between them. "I write the truth."

His gaze darkened, the air between them charged. "Then you should know-truth can be dangerous in the wrong hands."

The weight of his words settled in her chest. She wasn't naïve. Powerful men like Damien Lancaster had skeletons buried so deep they'd never see the light of day. But she had done her research, followed every lead, every whisper.

Damien Lancaster wasn't just powerful. He was untouchable. That didn't mean she wouldn't try.

She cleared her throat, pushing forward. "Your company controls some of the most profitable industries in the world. But no one really knows how you got here."

He took a slow sip of his drink, gaze never wavering from hers. "Hard work."

"That's the PR answer."

His smirk widened. "Maybe because it's the truth."

"People don't build empires like yours on hard work alone," she pressed. "You took over Lancaster Industries at twenty-six. Your father's board didn't want you in charge. Investors doubted you. But within three years, you turned the company into an untouchable force."

His expression didn't change, but something flickered behind his eyes. She had hit a nerve.

"The past is irrelevant," he said, voice clipped.

Becky held his gaze, refusing to back down. "I don't think it is."

The room grew colder, tension thickening between them.

Damien placed his glass on the desk, fingers tapping once against the crystal. "And what exactly are you looking for, Miss Lynchburg?"

"Answers."

A slow exhale escaped him. He leaned back in his chair, studying her with an intensity that made her stomach tighten.

"You're relentless," he mused.

"It's my job."

His lips curled, something unreadable flashing across his face. "Then let's see how far you're willing to go for it."

The cryptic response sent a chill through her.

Whatever game Damien Lancaster was playing, she had just stepped onto the board.

Damien's POV

Becky Lynchburg was fearless. Most people who sat across from him treaded carefully, choosing their words with the precision of a tightrope walker. But this woman? She came swinging, refusing to flinch under the weight of his presence. It was intriguing. Dangerous. Her persistence would get her in trouble if she wasn't careful. He stood, moving toward the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city skyline. The lights stretched endlessly, a reminder of the empire he had built with his own hands. The sacrifices, the ruthless decisions, the bloodstained victories.

He had learned early-kindness didn't build power. Strength did.

"I'll make you a deal," he said, turning back to her.

Her head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What kind of deal?"

"You want the real story? Then work for it."

She blinked. "Work for it?"

"I don't hand out my past like an open book, Miss Lynchburg. If you want answers, you'll have to earn them."

Becky's lips parted slightly, and for the first time since she walked in, she hesitated.

He could see the gears turning in her mind, weighing the risk against the reward.

"Are you saying I should stay?" she asked carefully.

Damien moved closer, stopping just a breath away from her. "I'm saying if you want the truth, you'll have to step into my world."

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, but she didn't back away.

"You want to play a game, Mr. Lancaster?" she murmured.

His smirk was slow, calculated. "I never play, Miss Lynchburg. I win."

Her jaw tightened, resolve flashing in her eyes. "Then I hope you're ready for a challenge."

Something in his chest stirred-something dangerous, something thrilling. Oh, he was more than ready.

The question was... was she?