Chapter 4 Dangerous Proximity

Vivienne spent the weekend telling herself that Friday night had been a fluke.

A mistake.

A one-time lapse in judgment.

By Monday morning, she had almost convinced herself that Damian Wolfe meant nothing to her but irritation and wasted energy.

Almost.

Until she walked into the elevator.

And found him already inside - leaning casually against the mirrored wall, a cup of coffee in one hand, scrolling lazily through his phone.

Vivienne hesitated for half a second too long.

He looked up, smirked, and held the door open with the toe of his shoe.

"Coming, Hart?" he asked, voice low and amused.

She stepped inside, spine ramrod straight, her entire body tense with effort.

The doors slid shut.

It was a small elevator.

Too small.

She could feel the heat of him - his body, his scent, the magnetic pull that made her skin itch with awareness.

Vivienne kept her eyes fixed firmly on the glowing floor numbers.

"You're unusually quiet," Damian said after a beat, his tone almost teasing. "Recovering from your dramatic exit?"

She didn't look at him.

"You're not worth my energy."

"You spent the whole weekend thinking about me, didn't you?"

Vivienne bit down a sharp retort, nails digging into her palm.

Damian shifted closer - not touching, but near enough that she could feel the whisper of heat from his body.

"You know," he said, voice dipping into that dangerous, velvet-soft register, "you never answered my question."

The air between them thickened instantly.

Vivienne turned her head, slowly, until she met his gaze - molten grey, full of wicked promises.

"You're disgusting," she said, but her voice wasn't nearly as steady as she wanted.

He smiled, slow and devastating.

"And you're intrigued."

The elevator dinged.

Vivienne shoved past him before the doors even finished opening, her heels clicking a furious rhythm down the hallway.

Damian's laughter - low, dark, and far too smug - followed her all the way to her office.

Later that day, Gregory Wolfe summoned them both to his glass-walled corner office.

Vivienne sat stiffly in one leather chair, Damian slouched in the other, an irritating mirror of casual confidence.

"We need a strong public debut for Scarlet Press," Gregory said. "A launch party. Splashy. Exclusive."

Vivienne immediately straightened. "Of course. I'll handle-"

"Both of you will," Gregory interrupted, sharp. "Together. You'll co-host. You'll charm the media, the authors, the investors. Make them believe in this imprint. Make them believe in you."

Vivienne felt her stomach twist.

Public events were her battlefield - but with Damian at her side, unpredictable and maddening? It was like fighting with a grenade without the pin.

Gregory's sharp gaze swept over them.

"Understood?"

"Understood," Vivienne said through clenched teeth.

"Can't wait," Damian added with a lazy smile.

Outside the office, she turned on him, fury flashing.

"If you so much as breathe out of line at this party-"

"What?" Damian interrupted smoothly. "You'll spank me in front of the guests?"

Vivienne flushed so hard she nearly stumbled.

He caught her elbow without thinking - steadying her - the barest brush of his hand against her skin sending a jolt through her entire body.

For a second - just one heartbeat - they froze.

His hand on her arm.

Her body rigid with tension - not entirely from anger.

Their eyes locked - and the world around them disappeared.

Vivienne tore herself away first, stepping back as if burned.

"Stay out of my way," she snapped.

Damian smiled - not his usual cocky smirk, but something slower.

Something hungrier.

"No," he said simply.

And Vivienne, heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird, knew he meant it.

He wasn't going to stay out of her way.

He was going to chase her.

And worse - a dangerous, reckless part of her wanted him to.