Chapter 5 A Dangerous Desire

Damien Hale hadn't felt like this in years.

He had been kissed a thousand times.

Women had fallen for him in boardrooms and bedrooms, on yachts and in candlelit restaurants, whispering promises they thought he wanted to hear.

He didn't remember most of their names. He never needed to- he thought to himself as he sat alone in his penthouse, the lights dimmed, the fire low. The scotch glass rested untouched beside him on the table, its contents long since gone warm. Outside, the city pulsed with light and movement, but none of it reached him here.

Not really.

Not since her.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers laced together tight enough to turn the knuckles white. His jaw ached-he hadn't realized he was clenching it until now.

Emery Blake.

Her name was like a curse and a craving. An ache he didn't ask for. A flame too close to everything he'd spent years burying.

He could still feel her.

The heat of her skin beneath his fingers. The way her breath had caught when he kissed her like she needed air. Her hands-small, soft-threading through his hair like she had every right to touch him that way. And the way she'd looked at him afterward...

God. She'd seen him.

Not Damien Hale the CEO. Not the empire. Not the billions. Not the myth.

Him.

And she hadn't run.

That was the most dangerous part.

He stood, restless, pacing the length of the room. The city's glow lit the sharp lines of his suit, his reflection ghosting across the floor-to-ceiling glass like a stranger.

He should've let her walk out of his office that first day.

She was meant to be a temp-a placeholder. Just another face. Nothing permanent.

But she wasn't forgettable. She was impossible.

The first time he'd seen her, something shifted. Something moved. Her presence had disarmed him, stripped his defenses faster than a bullet ever could. And now, every move he made, every breath, every decision-she was in it.

And he hated it.

Because he couldn't afford to want her.

Not with everything he was hiding.

Not with the past clawing closer.

He picked up the phone, thumb hovering over a contact only three people in the world knew existed. One call, and she'd be transferred. Gone. Out of his reach.

Safe.

But his thumb never pressed.

Instead, his thoughts pulled him backward-farther than he liked to go. Back to the apartment he grew up in. The cold, leaking walls. The nights he came home to silence and a mother too tired to speak. A father who left without a goodbye. A world that made it clear: if you didn't take what you wanted, it would take you instead.

He'd built everything from nothing. With fire. With steel. With blood, when he had to.

He didn't love. He couldn't. Not when love made you weak.

So why the hell did he want to protect her?

He sat again, head in his hands.

Because you already do, a voice whispered. That's the problem, isn't it?

He saw the way men looked at her in the office. Heard the rumors. The whispered jealousy from others who envied her position, her presence. She was smart, quick, gentle-but never naive. And yet she didn't see the predators around her.

But he did.

He always did.

And God help anyone who thought they could get close.

Because Damien didn't share. Not his company. Not his power. Not her.

He ran a hand down his face, exhaling slowly. Control. He needed to get it back. Tonight had been a mistake. A slip.

But her kiss still lingered on his lips. Her scent on his clothes.

Tomorrow, he would pretend again. Be cold. Distant. Controlled.

But tonight?

He closed his eyes.

Tonight, he let himself feel it.

The heat.

The danger.

The truth.

He didn't just want Emery Blake.

He was already obsessed.