Chapter 2 The Devil Wears Blackwell

Black suits. Quiet footsteps. And too many secrets. That's what Monday felt like at Blackwell Innovations.

Ivy Carter sat at her desk just outside Damian Blackwell's office, her fingers still curled around the envelope she'd found that morning. She'd read the message a dozen times. It was handwritten, smooth and elegant, no smudges. Just five chilling words:

Don't trust anyone. Especially him.

She slipped it back into her portfolio, nerves coiling low in her stomach. A prank? A warning? Maybe some disgruntled ex-employee trying to scare the new girl?

But there was something about the phrasing-clean, deliberate, intimate. It wasn't designed to scare. It was meant to prepare her.

Damian arrived at exactly 7:00 a.m., as he did every day, wearing a tailored black suit, no tie, sleeves rolled once at the wrist. His presence sucked the air out of the hallway. He barely acknowledged her as he swept into his office, but Ivy could feel it-that awareness between them. A charged silence.

He was magnetic in the way a thunderstorm was magnetic. Beautiful. Dangerous. Unpredictable.

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By mid-morning, the pace picked up. Damian's schedule was a chaos engine: investment calls, board meeting prep, cybersecurity consultations. Ivy handled it all like a seasoned pro, adjusting travel itineraries, fielding assistant envy from other departments, and rescheduling an international call with a Tokyo investor who kept confusing her with a voicemail bot.

At 11:42 a.m., Damian emerged from his office. "Carter."

Her stomach tightened. "Yes?"

"Walk with me."

She jumped up, heels clicking as she followed him through the executive floor and into the private elevator. No explanation. No context. Just Damian in motion and Ivy in tow.

The elevator ride was silent, the hum of the machinery beneath their feet a constant reminder of the gravity of the world they inhabited. As the doors opened to the R&D level, Ivy felt a shiver of unease. This wasn't the polished, high-end office space she was used to. This was raw. Cold. Clinical.

They stepped into a maze of frosted-glass rooms, humming equipment, and men and women in sleek lab coats moving with precision. The air was thick with the scent of metal and circuitry.

"I don't usually involve assistants in this part of the company," he said as they walked deeper into the lab. "But you're observant. And I want to see how you think."

It wasn't a compliment. It was a test.

A young engineer stepped forward, holding a device in his hands. "Mr. Blackwell, the biometric prototypes you requested..."

Damian gestured for silence. His attention shifted to Ivy. "Explain what's wrong with that model."

Ivy blinked. "I haven't seen it before."

"I'm aware."

The device on the table looked like a watch, but bulkier. Ivy took a step closer. Sleek interface. Embedded AI chip. A biometric scanner likely designed to track vitals. But something felt... off.

She glanced at the datasheet beside it. Her eyes narrowed as she skimmed the specifications.

"The energy usage is disproportionate to its output. Battery drain would make it unreliable in real-time application. It's bleeding data too fast."

The engineer looked stunned. Damian's expression didn't change, but Ivy noticed it-his jaw ticked once.

"Good," he said, his voice cool but tinged with something like approval. Then, to the engineer: "Start over. Integrate passive scanning. Give her access to the specs."

"Yes, sir."

As they left the lab, Ivy dared a question. "What exactly is this device for?"

Damian stopped. He didn't look at her, his eyes fixed on something far away, something distant. "That's classified."

A beat passed.

"But if you figure it out," he added, his voice lowering, "you'll have earned the answer."

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By that afternoon, Ivy's mind was a swirl of half-truths and calculated silences. Damian wasn't just building software-he was building something bigger. Smarter. Something he didn't fully trust anyone with. The research division was hidden in plain sight, but the security clearances, the encryption keys, the proprietary technology-it all hinted at something high-stakes.

And she was in the middle of it.

When Damian's calendar pinged with a lunch meeting across town, Ivy stayed behind to clean up his desk. She didn't snoop. She didn't need to. But the drawer was slightly ajar, papers misaligned, as if someone had rifled through them in a hurry.

She slid it open fully and saw something she wasn't meant to see. A photo.

It was old. A younger Damian, early twenties, smiling-actually smiling-with his arm around a woman who looked vaguely familiar. Petite. Blonde. Stylish.

On the back, someone had scrawled a date. September 12, 2015. No name.

Before Ivy could process it, a soft sound startled her. A paperweight had shifted near the desk edge. She jumped, knocking a box of paperclips to the floor.

Metal scattered like shrapnel.

As she scrambled to pick them up, her eyes landed on a slim file that had fallen behind the desk. Labeled: Redhawk Contract – Sealed.

Redhawk.

The name tickled something at the back of her brain. A tech rival. Damian's most aggressive competitor. Rumors of sabotage, lawsuits, stolen prototypes.

And then she heard it. A voice.

"Touch that file, and you'll wish you hadn't."

She looked up sharply.

Damian stood in the doorway, expression unreadable, his eyes darker than usual. "I-I was just picking up-"

"Leave," he said coldly. "Now."

The room went silent.

Ivy grabbed her tablet and nearly tripped as she rushed out of the office.

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That night, Ivy lay awake in her tiny studio apartment, the sounds of the city buzzing below. She couldn't shake the memory of that photo. Or the file. Or the look in Damian's eyes.

He had secrets. And someone didn't want her getting close to them. Her phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

"They're watching you."

She sat up, heart in her throat. Another text followed.

"Whatever you do, stay out of Redhawk."

She replied.

Who is this?

No answer.

Then her phone buzzed again-this time with an alert from the building's internal messaging system.

URGENT: All employees are required to attend tomorrow's emergency security briefing. 8:00 AM sharp. Attendance is mandatory.

Ivy stared at the message, her mind racing. Something was happening. Something big. And she was already in too deep.

The note in her portfolio burned in her thoughts. Don't trust anyone. Especially him.

________________________________________

The next morning, Ivy arrived early, her pulse thumping in her ears. She couldn't shake the feeling that the walls were closing in. The office, usually so sterile and controlled, felt different today-charged. The hum of the fluorescent lights seemed louder. The air felt heavier. It wasn't just another Monday.

Elaine was already at her desk, her face tense as she looked up at Ivy. "Have you heard?" she asked in a low voice.

"Heard what?"

"There's been a leak. Something's not right. People are talking about Redhawk." Elaine lowered her voice further. "You might want to stay out of this one. Trust me."

Ivy clenched her jaw. She had no intention of stepping back now.

As the clock ticked closer to 8:00, the building seemed to hold its breath. Employees flooded into the security briefing, their eyes flicking nervously around the room. Damian stood at the front, his presence commanding, though his expression was colder than Ivy had ever seen it.

"Listen up," he began, his voice sharp, cutting through the tension. "We've been targeted. This is bigger than you think. Redhawk's making moves, and they won't stop until they have everything we've worked for."

Ivy's stomach twisted. Redhawk. The enemy. But what were they after? Why was it so personal?

Damian's gaze flickered across the room, briefly meeting Ivy's, his eyes unreadable. A fleeting moment of acknowledgment-or warning.

She wasn't sure which.

The briefing continued, but Ivy's mind was elsewhere, piecing together the fragments of what she had uncovered. The photo. The sealed file. The warning.

Whatever was coming next, she was no longer just an observer. She was in the game. And she had no idea how dangerous it was going to get.